Train from Marietta

by Dorothy Garlock

  “I won’t.” Resentment was in the child’s voice.

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t do it on purpose, sweetie. Let your daddy rest for a bit, and later I’ll show you where he’s hurt.”

  “You go. Me and Yelena will take care of Daddy.”

  “Emily,” Tate said firmly. He rose up on one elbow and fixed a stern look on his daughter. “Miss Tyler will be here for a few days. I expect you to treat her nicely.” Sensing that this was a conversation that would be better if she weren’t in the room, Kate glanced at Yelena and slipped out the door.

  “I don’t like her.” Emily’s voice reached every corner of the small house.

  Tate frowned, his patience stretched to the breaking point. “I have never spanked you, but I just might do it if you’re not nice to a guest in our home. She saved me from a bad man.”

  Emily’s face crumbled, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. “I don’t want the present,” she sobbed, and reached into her pocket for the bottle of perfume. “You don’t like me!”

  “Of course, I like you. That’s why I’m telling you this. I want you to be nice so other people will like you too.”

  Yelena, who had heard this conversation several times before, said, “I get dinner ready,” and left father and daughter alone in the room.

  When she reached the kitchen, Kate was standing at the window watching the doctor’s vehicle head back down the lane. She turned when she heard Yelena enter the room and said, “I’m sorry if my being here is a bother. Tate insisted I stay with him until his friend Lyle gets here. Besides, the doctor wanted me to tend to his injuries. He has three deep knife wounds.”

  “You are nurse?” Yelena asked.

  “Yes. I worked in a clinic in New York City.”

  “Who do this, señorita?” Kate’s head turned at the sound of another voice. Jorge stood at the far end of the kitchen. She hadn’t heard him enter the room.

  “A man named Hayden tried to kill him.”

  “Ah, no. That one again. He not give up.”

  “He will now. He’s dead.”

  “Madre de Dios!” Jorge exclaimed. “That good. He bad man.”

  “Hayden and two other men kidnapped me. Even though Hayden is dead, the other men are still out there somewhere.”

  “You safe here.”

  Yelena left the room and came back a minute later with a skirt and blouse thrown over her arm. “Señor say you will want bath. He say your clothes stay on train. I bring you clean ones to wear while I wash others.”

  “Thank you very much.” Simply washing herself with a towel at the doctor’s office had been welcome, but a full bath with clean clothes to wear would be wonderful.

  The Mexican woman handed Kate the clothes, a towel, and a cake of good-smelling soap. “Señor bring this for little one.”

  “Are you sure I should use it?”

  “Use it and smell nice. Go with Jorge. He show you bath.”

  Kate followed the short Mexican man out to the barn. It was built out of the same wood as the main ranch house and painted to match. Jorge proudly showed her to a lean-to built on to the side of it. It was small with a wooden slat floor. A rope hung down from the ceiling. Grinning, Jorge said, “Pull the rope, the water come down.”

  “Is it cold?” Kate asked as she laid her towel and clean clothes down on a small bench to one side of the lean-to.

  “Not cold. Sun warm the water.”

  Bidding her to enjoy her bath, Jorge went out and closed the door behind him. Kate looked to see if there was a bar or latch, but there was none. Oh, well! They take public baths in Europe, don’t they? She giggled at the thought.

  She stripped quickly. Standing under the shower, she pulled the rope and a splash of water came down. It felt wonderful! She soaped her wet head and then the rest of her body. She pulled the rope again to release more water. After several bucketfuls had poured over her, she got out from under the contraption. Kate had taken many a wonderful bath in her day, but none had been as refreshing as this one. She rubbed the towel vigorously over her head before slipping on the skirt Yelena had given her. It was too big in the waist and came only to her knees, but it was clean. The blouse, with a deep scoop neck and puffed sleeves, was plenty large, but too short to tuck into the waistband of her skirt. The neck was so big that she wondered if it should hang off one shoulder. She put on her moccasins and left the lean-to.

  In the yard, between the barn and the house, was a clothesline. Kate hung up her towel, stepped up onto the porch, and went into the kitchen. Yelena was at the stove. She turned to smile when Kate entered.

  “That was wonderful. Thank you for the clean clothes. I’ve been wearing those dirty ones for more than a week.”

  “I will wash them, señorita.”

  “I don’t want to be any trouble.” Kate smiled. “I’ll rinse out the blouse.”

  Kate spent the rest of the afternoon working around the kitchen with Yelena. She was hesitant about going into Tate’s room, since Emily was still in there with him. The little girl was very possessive of her father. Children usually liked Kate, but this one didn’t. It would be a challenge to win her over.

  After the evening meal, Yelena showed her to a cot in Emily’s room. Kate’s handbag and newly cleaned clothes sat on the cot. While Yelena washed the little girl and got her ready for bed, Kate went to Tate’s room to change his bandages. She carried with her the supplies that Dr. Duval had sent with them. When she entered, Tate leaned up on one elbow and grinned.

  “That’s quite a contraption you have out there for taking a bath.” She sat down on the edge of his bed. It felt wonderful to be near him again.

  “It serves its purpose.” He lifted his hand to her head and ran his forked fingers through her damp hair. His touch was even better than the bath had been. “It feels nice.”

  “I never enjoyed a bath so much.”

  “I’m looking forward to one of my own.” He slid his hand down from her hair and rubbed the fabric of the blouse between his fingers. “I see that Yelena found you some clean clothes.”

  “She did.” She plucked at the blouse neck, suddenly self-conscious. “I didn’t know what to do with the neck. Do they pull it down over one shoulder?”

  “Only if you’re at a cantina.”

  “What’s that?”

  Tate’s grin widened. “I guess you could call it a poor man’s nightclub.”

  “Then I guess I’ll keep it on both shoulders.”

  “I don’t know.” Tate chuckled. “You’d look pretty nice to me.”

  “I wouldn’t suggest teasing me, Tate Castle.”

  “And why’s that? What’ll you do to me?”

  “There are any number of things that I could do to you as soon as I take those bandages off. I might decide to wash your wounds with whiskey. Or if you make me really mad, I’ll drink the whiskey and pour vinegar on your wounds.”

  “I wouldn’t like that.”

  Both of them laughed at their playful banter. Kate was suddenly struck by the thought that this was one of the few times they’d been able to be completely at ease with each other since they met. It was nice to be able to relax. Then, just as she was about to comment on her thought, Tate frowned.

  “I’m sorry for what Emily said to you today.”

  “About her wanting me to go?”

  “Yes.” Before continuing, Tate took one of Kate’s hands and gave it a gentle squeeze. “She doesn’t want to share me with anyone.”

  “That’s understandable. I felt somewhat the same about my own father.”

  “What did he do about it?”

  Kate thought for a minute. “I think he made me feel that no matter who else was around, I was still his favorite. I was still his little girl and nothing would change that.”

  Tate nodded his head and said, “There haven’t been many women around since Hazel left. Emily knew that those who did come here weren’t going to stay. For some reason, it’s different with you. Even when I tried to
explain that you’d be here for just a few days, she was still upset.”

  “Why is she upset if she knows I’m leaving?”

  “Emily doesn’t understand time. To her, a few days seems like forever.”

  There was a knock at the door, and Yelena entered. “Emily in bed. She want you to see her.”

  “Tell her I can’t come to her tonight,” Tate explained.

  “She want story, señor.”

  “How would she feel about my telling her a story?” Kate asked. “I know a few that could entertain her. It might be a chance for us to get to know each other.”

  Yelena shrugged and left the doorway.

  Tate gave Kate’s hand another squeeze. “She may not be nice to you.”

  “I’ve handled children who weren’t nice. I won’t be hurt by anything she says. Let me give it a try.”

  “You’ll come back?”

  “You want me to?”

  “I do.”

  As Kate got up and left the room, she looked back over her shoulder to see Tate watching her go and felt her heart stumble. Careful, she cautioned herself. You’re out of your element here. You could very well leave with a broken heart.

  Before going into Emily’s room, Kate stood in the hall way and took a deep breath. She was confident that she’d be able to get Emily to like her; it would just take some effort. When she entered, the little girl was lying in bed, her eyes fixed on the doorway.

  “Emily,” she said gently, “your daddy can’t get out of bed to come see you. He asked me to tell you a story for him.”

  “But I want my daddy,” she fussed. Looking at her, Kate could see the ways she resembled her father. Their eyes were the same clear blue, with dark brows and lashes. They both had the same wild black hair.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But it would hurt your daddy terribly to get up.”

  “No, it wouldn’t. Daddy never hurts.”

  “He does, but he just doesn’t tell you.” Kate knew she needed to change the subject from Tate. If they kept talking about him, Emily would want to see him more and more. “Have you heard the story of Cinderella?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Well, how about the story of the naughty little girl who wouldn’t stop saying, ‘I don’t like it,’ and refused to eat her supper?”

  “I don’t know that one.” Kate saw a flicker of curiosity in Emily’s face. “Is it in a storybook?”

  “Oh, yes. Where I live, everyone knows this story.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “A place called New York City.”

  Emily stared at her for a moment before saying, “I’ll listen to your story.”

  “May I sit down next to you?”

  “Uh-huh.” Kate sat down on the edge of the bed and folded her hands in her lap. She smiled gently before starting her story. “In a kingdom far, far away, there lived a little girl named Elizabeth, who was six years old.”

  “I’m six,” Emily said.

  “Elizabeth had pretty dark hair, just like yours. She was always saying, ‘I don’t like it. ’ When her father bought her a new dress, she said, ‘I don’t like it. ’ When a friend of her mother painted her a picture, she said, ‘I don’t like it. ’ One day her father brought her a beautiful birthday cake. Without thinking, she said, ‘I don’t like it,’ and her father took the birthday cake away. That night a fairy princess came and asked Elizabeth if she had liked the beautiful dolly that she had put inside the cake. The next morning the little girl ran to find her father. ‘I want my cake! I want my cake!’ Her father frowned as he said, ‘Sorry honey. You said you didn’t like it, so I gave your cake to Sally, the washerwoman’s little girl. She wanted the cake and was very happy’”

  “But the dolly,” Emily said.

  Without answering, Kate continued. “Elizabeth sat under a tree in the garden and cried. She didn’t like Sally because she had the dolly that was meant for her. ‘I want it back! I want it back!’ she cried. Suddenly she opened her eyes, and the fairy princess was standing before her.”

  “What did she say?” Emily asked. She looked anxiously at Kate.

  “She said, ‘You told your father you didn’t like it before you even knew what was inside. You tell people you don’t like them before you get to know them. You say you don’t like food before you taste it or music before you hear it. ’ Elizabeth cried because she knew the fairy was right. ‘I won’t do it anymore. ’ The fairy princess touched her on the head with her wand and said kindly, ‘If you treat people nicely, they will be nice to you. ’ The end.”

  With the story finished, Kate unfolded her hands and looked down at Emily. The little girl’s eyes were wide and fastened to her face. “Was Elizabeth nice after that?”

  “She was so nice that everybody in the entire kingdom loved her. She grew up to be a beautiful princess, married a prince, and lived happily ever after.”

  Emily was quiet, looking at Kate with the same expression on her face that she had seen on Tate’s when they discussed Emily’s behavior. Finally she asked, “Will you tell me a story tomorrow night?”

  “If you’d like me to.”

  “I do.”

  Kate stood, reached over, and tucked the bedcovers around Emily’s shoulders. She leaned down and placed a kiss on the girl’s forehead. “Good night. Sleep tight.”

  “You won’t forget the story?”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  Emily’s eyes followed her out of the room. At the door, Kate turned and waved. Emily lifted a hand off the bed and waved back.

  Chapter 26

  KATE PUSHED THE DOOR OPEN A FEW INCHES and peered into the room. A kerosene lamp gave out a dim light, but it was bright enough for her to see Tate. He lay on the bed, arms crossed over his chest, looking at her. Kate went into the room, leaving the door ajar.

  “Well?” he said. “How did it go?”

  “Fine,” Kate said with an easy smile. “She’s a bright little girl.”

  “She didn’t give you any sass?”

  “Just a little bit.” Kate crossed the room until she stood next to Tate’s bed. He looked tired, haggard.

  He reached out, grasped hold of her hand, and pulled until she was sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Emily must have liked it because she asked me to tell her a story tomorrow night. I think she’s reconciled to the idea that I’ll be here for another day.”

  “I wish it would be longer.”

  His words made Kate a little breathless, but she managed to say, “I told the doctor I’d stay a few days in case you developed an infection and came down with a fever. It will take that long for your friend to come for me.” Kate paused. There was so much she wanted to say, so many things she wanted to tell him. “I hope you know how much I appreciate your coming to get me. If not for you, I’d be dead.”

  “Don’t talk like that. Sometimes a man is given a gift in the most unexpected way.” His eyes held hers.

  “What do you mean?” she whispered.

  “By doing a favor for my friend, I met a most unusual woman, who could come to mean a great deal to me.” While Tate was talking, he slowly raised his hand toward her face, touched her, then began to caress her cheek with his knuckles. “Beautiful Katherine,” he said softly. “I know that nothing can come of this, but it makes me happy to dream that you’re mine. Are you shocked to hear that?”

  “Why do you think I’d be shocked?”

  “We live in different worlds, you and me.”

  “And that makes me unfit to live in yours? Not all of the women who come from the city are like your wife.”

  “My ex-wife,” Tate interjected. He looked at her steadily before adding, “I suppose you’re right. It’s just that we’re used to different things. What I have here wouldn’t make you happy.”

  “Tate …” She said his name softly.

  “I wish I could get up.” His voice was raspy with frustration. “I’d hate to think I’ll spend the whole time you’re in
my home trapped in this bed.”

  Kate brought her finger to Tate’s mouth and pressed gently against his lips. At that moment, sitting on the edge of his bed, all she wanted was to be with him.

  A flood of tenderness overwhelmed her as she turned his face to hers. She kissed him with a lingering softness. As their lips touched, she found his mouth sweet, his breath warm, and his cheeks pleasantly rough against her face. At first, the kiss was hesitant, but then became more demanding.

  As the kiss lengthened, her fingers began to move, slowly at first. They roamed over the firm muscles on his shoulders and into the silky down on his chest. She wanted to touch him, instinctively knowing that it was what he wanted too. He drew his lips away and buried his face in her throat. His body answered the movement with a violent trembling.

  He groaned against her neck. “Is this all there is for us?”

  “Is this all you want?”

  “Someday I’ll show you what I want,” he said, his lips pressed to her cheek. His arms pulled her tightly against him, until her head rested on the pillow next to his. Their mouths touched, their breaths coming as one. He captured one of her hands and pressed its palm against his bare chest. Her fingertips slid across his chest and then up and over his smooth shoulders to his neck. Rough stubble scratched against her skin before she plunged her hand into his thick black hair.

  “Your hair smells like spice,” he said as he took a deep breath, drawing in the scent of her. “I’ve dreamt of being with you like this every night. Now at last, you’re here in my arms.”

  He pulled her closer, their bodies pressing together. Kate’s arm moved over his body, but as she ran her fingers down his side, Tate’s face winced in pain.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “This is worth a lot of hurt,” he whispered reassuringly.

  She wanted to tell him how she was feeling, to open up and pour out these new thoughts, but she couldn’t find the words. Her heart hammered in her chest, and there was a fluttering in the pit of her stomach.

  In the stillness that enclosed them, she could see his face in the faint light from the lamp. His eyes searched hers. He swallowed the tightness in his throat. Never had he wanted anything as much as he wanted to hold this wondrous sweet woman. He wanted to gather her up and carry her away where there would be just the two of them. He’d work, he’d slave, sweat, and fight to provide for her. You fool, he groaned inwardly. If you jump the gun, she’ll shy away.