by Stacy Henrie
Cleaning out the chicken coop was, by far, the nastiest, smelliest activity she’d ever undertaken. And, rather than be appreciative, the chickens squawked their disapproval at her intrusion and took it in turns to launch full-scale attacks on her legs. This disagreeable experience made the days that she’d spent mucking out her father’s stables seem pleasant by comparison.
On another day, Eliza showed Katie how to use the butter churn. After churning for what seemed like hours, Katie’s arms and shoulders felt as though they were on fire, but she was proud of the large pat of butter she had to show for her efforts.
The pain in her arms paled in comparison to the ache in her back after a morning of digging in Eliza’s garden. Eliza was anxious to prepare the soil for spring planting, but the melting snow had left the soil wet and heavy. Weeds from the previous fall had already started to multiply, and rocks littered the large area, making their progress slow. It took them working together for three days to completely clear the ground, and, when they were done, Katie promised herself that she’d never take a potato for granted again.
Most days, Eliza encouraged Katie to put aside her work by the late afternoon so that she could spend an hour or so exploring the ranch. Katie came to love this time alone. Every afternoon, she’d set off on foot, not knowing exactly where she was headed or what she would see. She wandered the forests, loving the smell of the pine needles and the song of the birds. Sometimes, she’d follow the stream down to the meadow and watch the cattle as they grazed along the river. Wildflowers were already blooming, and she often gathered some, marveling at the variety of colors among the delicate blossoms.
She often saw squirrels and chipmunks, woodpeckers and blue jays. Once, she came upon a small herd of deer. As she approached, their heads popped up, their ears twitching nervously before they bounded off into the forest in unison.
Along with the wildlife, she also kept an eye out for Caleb. She was never sure where he’d be, but, occasionally, she’d spot him off in the distance in one of the meadows. Usually, he was riding his black horse, Mica, through the cattle or along a line of wooden fencing. Sometimes, she’d see him repairing a section of fence or clearing debris left by spring runoff. She never got too close, not wanting to interrupt him or to become an irritant. But, seeing him— even if it were only for a few minutes— made her day better.
Her favorite part of each day, however, was the evening, when Caleb was back, dinner was over, and they would all sit down together around the stove and talk. When Caleb and Eliza asked Katie about her life in New York, it was easy to tell them about her happy growing-up years; it was much harder to share her more difficult, recent past. Eliza obviously sensed her struggle, because she’d taken Katie’s hand and given it a comforting squeeze.
“Whenever you’re ready, dear, not before.”
Katie had drawn courage from this little show of support and had opened up about her father’s misfortunes, the unjustified slander that had been heaped upon him, his rapid decline in health and subsequent death, and the ensuing loss of her home, stables, and so-called friends.
When she finished her story, she was met with silence, and she experienced a pang of fear, wondering if, perhaps, she’d said too much. Would the Walkers not want to be associated with someone whose family reputation was so tainted? She glanced at Caleb and found his eyes upon her.
“Well,” he said, “that explains your love of horses and their love for you.”
Gratitude for his perspective warmed her heart. “I’ve been around horses for as long as I can remember,” Katie said.
“I’ve never seen Titus act so much like a lap dog as he does around you,” Caleb told her. “And, if I’m not careful, Mica will start thinking he’s your horse.”
Katie felt her cheeks color. She’d not known that anyone was aware of her daily visits to the horses in the barn. Titus, Mica, and Echo helped her feel grounded when everything around her was shifting. They gave her unconditional affection, and she reciprocated. The horses were her lifeline.
“I’d be willing to trade collecting the eggs and feeding the chickens and pigs in the morning for taking care of the horses, if you’re interested,” she said.
Surprise filled Caleb’s eyes, quickly followed by something that looked suspiciously like humor. Eliza, however, couldn’t hide her amusement. With a peal of laughter, she patted Katie’s hand.
“Oh my stars,” Eliza said. “The stories I could tell about Caleb and the chicken coop!”
Sensing an opportunity to learn more about the man in front of her, Katie turned to Eliza. “Please tell me,” she said.
“Well,” Eliza sat back and gave Caleb a mischievous look. “Where do I begin?”
Caleb rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Katie would much rather hear about Jake.”
“I believe we can kill two birds with one stone,” Eliza said. “Remember the raccoon catcher?”
With a groan, Caleb got up to pour himself a cup of coffee. “Fine,” he said. “Just get it over with quickly.”
Eliza chuckled and immediately launched into one of her many stories about the two boys. “When Caleb and Jake were young,” she began, “they traded off weeks being in charge of the chickens— feeding them, collecting the eggs, and cleaning the coop. It was Jake’s week, and he went out one morning to find all the chickens in a dither because some critter had dug a hole under the fence and stolen the eggs. There were eggshells on the ground outside the coop, and he found more by the trees, so he figured it was either a fox or a raccoon, sneaking in from the forest.”
She glanced over at Katie. “I’ve already told you how much Jake likes to try new things. Well, he got to thinking about how he could catch this egg thief red-handed, and he came up with some elaborate trap that would be triggered the moment the wild critter crawled through the hole it’d dug into the coop,” she explained. “He set the wires and showed Caleb how his slick invention worked, then left Caleb in charge because it had rolled over into being Caleb’s week for doing the chickens.
“So, Caleb went out the next morning,” she continued. “And, sure enough, there was some four-legged critter stuck in the chicken coop. Caleb put on his gloves and opened the gate, ready to take care of the thief, only to be hit square in the chest with skunk spray.”
Katie put her hand to her mouth to mask her giggle.
Caleb shook his head. “The chickens went crazy,” he said. “Our old dog howled every time he caught wind of me, and no one let me near the cabin for over twenty-four hours.”
“So, you slept in the barn then too,” Katie said.
“If I’d done that, I likely would’ve killed off the horses and the cow,” he said. “I was stuck outside till Mother scrubbed me down with some awful potion.”
“Hey, now,” Eliza said. “You might still be sleeping outside if it weren’t for that skunk-spray remedy.”
Caleb gave a rueful grin. “I believe it.”
Caleb returned to the barn after another evening spent with his mother and Katie at the cabin. The first few nights had taught him a great deal about Katie Spencer. Not only had she opened up about her background, she’d also revealed much about her character and integrity. Over the following evenings, his mother had shared stories about him and Jake and their father. Katie had listened to all her memories with rapt attention, openly sharing in the laughter and tears. If he hadn’t witnessed it himself, he wouldn’t have believed it. In under three weeks, Katie had become part of the very fabric of his family.
He moved toward Mica’s stall and sniffed. The lingering scent of lavender still clung to the air: a sure sign that Katie had visited the horses recently. He was quite certain that she didn’t realize how aware he was of her movements, how much he now looked forward to her handing him his breakfast each morning, and how he watched for her when she walked the hillsides in the afternoons. No matter how engrossed he was in his work, he somehow sensed when she was close by. Without fail, he’d glance up to catch a glimpse of her i
n the distance and would wish that she were close enough to exchange a few words.
In the stall next to Mica, Echo gave a snort. Caleb reached over and patted the chestnut mare’s neck, studying her carefully as she moved closer.
“Not much longer, girl,” he said, offering the horse a handful of extra oats. “Maybe, for your sake alone, it’s a good thing I’m still not sleeping well at night.”
Chapter Six
Katie had just finished buttoning her dress the next morning when she heard Eliza calling her name. She hurried into the kitchen, but Eliza wasn’t there. Confused, she stood still, wondering if she’d imagined hearing the faint voice. Then she heard it again, and Katie realized it was coming from the other bedroom. Giving a light knock, she pushed open the door and peeked inside. A bed and a chest of drawers filled the tiny room. Eliza was lying in bed, her graying hair braided, her face pale.
“Is something wrong?” Katie asked anxiously.
“It’s my darn lumbago,” Eliza said, taking a sharp breath as she tried to alter her position in bed. “It hits me every once in a while just to remind me that I’m not as young as I used to be.” She frowned. “I guess all that yard work has finally got to me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Katie said. “What can I do to help?”
Eliza gave a weak smile. “I won’t be up for much today, I’m afraid. We’ll put off the cleaning I had planned, and I’m quite sure Caleb can make a bowl of oatmeal without me fussing over it. But, if there’s any way you could take care of milking Daisy, I’d be most grateful.”
Katie’s heart sank. Of all the requests Eliza could have made, this one was likely the worst. She’d watched Eliza milk the cow a couple of times, but that was the extent of her milking experience.
“I’ll do my best,” Katie said, hoping she conveyed more confidence than she felt.
“I know you will, dear,” Eliza said.
“Can I get you anything before I go out?”
Eliza shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll try to rest a little longer. Take care of the animals first.”
With a nod, Katie left the tiny bedroom, grabbed her shawl from the peg near the door, and stepped out into the brisk morning air.
She was halfway through gathering the eggs, when Daisy’s plaintive mooing reached her.
“I’m coming, Daisy,” she said, uncovering the last of the eggs hidden in the straw and adding them to her basket. “Sorry, piglets, you’ll have to wait a little longer,” she added as she raced past the pigpen toward the barn.
She entered the barn and made straight for the milking area. Daisy was already there, waiting for her. Katie put the basket of eggs in the corner. Grasping the cow’s rope harness, Katie pulled her close enough that she could tie her securely to the stall.
“You’re going to have to bear with me, Daisy,” Katie said softly. “There’s an awful lot I don’t know.”
She turned and looked around, mentally reviewing all she needed: pail, stool, clean rag, soap, and water. Thankful that she’d watched Eliza prepare for milking more than once, Katie gathered everything, washed out the milking pail, and cleaned Daisy’s udder. Then she positioned the pail beneath Daisy’s udder and took her place on the stool. Taking a deep breath, she grasped one of the teats and squeezed. Nothing happened. She tried again. Daisy turned her head and regarded her with doleful eyes.
“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Katie said. “I’m trying. Really, I am.”
Daisy shuffled her feet, and Katie readjusted her own position, pulling down as she squeezed. After fifteen minutes, Daisy gave a disgruntled moo, and Katie leaned her head against the cow’s warm body.
“I don’t know how to do this, Daisy,” she said, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I have to get you milked.”
“Slowly adjust the pressure on each of your fingers,” someone said.
At the unexpected sound, Katie jumped up, knocking over the stool and the empty milk pail with a clatter.
“Caleb!” she gasped. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I was feeding the horses, when I heard your voice.” He looked around quizzically. “Doesn’t my mother usually take care of the milking?”
Katie nodded. “She’s down in bed with lumbago.”
He groaned.
“Does it happen very often?” Katie asked.
“More often than I’d like,” he said. “She’s been overdoing it again.”
“We’ve been working on the garden for three days,” she explained.
“That would do it.” He reached over and righted the pail and the stool. “Sit down,” he said. “Let’s see if we can’t help Daisy out of her misery, then I’ll go check on Mother.”
Katie took her seat again.
“Now put your hands like this,” Caleb said as he wrapped his fingers around one of Daisy’s teats. He moved back, and Katie tried to follow his example. “That’s right,” he said. “Now, squeeze from the top to the bottom.”
Katie tried, and a single drop of milk appeared. She turned to him with dismay. “I’ll be here all day,” she said. “And Daisy will hate me forever.”
He laughed. “An hour at the most. And Daisy’s a very forgiving cow.”
She shook her head, tears of frustration blurring her vision. Caleb knelt down behind the stool.
“You can do it, Katie,” he said gently.
He reached around her, placing his hands over hers and guiding them back into a milking position. Carefully applying just the right amount of pressure on each of her fingers in turn, he kept this fluid motion going until her hands were moving in unison with his. With a sudden hiss, a stream of milk shot into the metal pail.
“It’s… it’s working,” Katie said, struggling to form a coherent sentence with Caleb’s arms around her and her hands in his. She turned her head to find Caleb’s face just inches from hers. His fingers stilled but did not release their grip. Their eyes met. Then, for a fleeting second, his gaze dropped to her lips. Beside them, Daisy shifted impatiently. Caleb blinked and leaned back, pulling his hands away. Katie felt the loss immediately.
“Try it on your own,” he said, sounding a little out of breath as he got to his feet.
As if in a fog, Katie turned back to Daisy. Replicating the technique Caleb had modeled, she squeezed the teat, and, immediately, milk squirted out.
“That’s it,” he said, already walking toward the door. “Keep it nice and steady, and you’ll be done in no time.”
Katie simply nodded. She was still too shaken by her response to Caleb’s intimate proximity to trust herself to speak.
Caleb headed straight for the water barrel that sat to one side of the cabin. He took off his hat, lifted the lid, filled the pitcher that was hanging inside, and dumped the entire contents on his head. Shuddering against the sudden cold, he shook his head, spraying water droplets everywhere. After running his fingers through his hair, in an attempt to tame the curls, he smashed his hat back on and marched into the cabin. He may have chilled himself to the core, but at least he could think clearly again.
As he entered the quiet cabin, his steps slowed, and he closed the door softly. The kitchen felt empty without his mother and Katie bustling around to make breakfast. The thought brought him up short. How had he gotten so accustomed to having Katie around in such a brief period of time? Perhaps because she belonged here? Caleb gave an exasperated sigh. He’d felt that way for days. But what he still needed to come to terms with was that she belonged here with his brother.
A drip of cold water ran down his neck, and he shivered. Gathering some wood from the basket in the corner, Caleb added fuel to the stove then walked over to his mother’s room and tapped lightly on the door. No one answered, so he peered inside. His mother was sleeping peacefully. Closing the door again, he retreated to the kitchen and filled a pot with water. Breakfast would have to be oatmeal today.
When Katie arrived back at the cabin, carrying a full pail of milk a
nd a basket of eggs, Caleb was gone. A short note lay next to a pan of warm oatmeal on the table. She put down the milk and eggs and picked up the small piece of paper.
Gone to meet up with a neighbor to move cattle. Mother still asleep.
Katie dropped onto the nearest chair. Perhaps she’d only imagined the connection she’d shared with Caleb that morning. She glanced at the note again. It appeared that he was going to ignore whatever had occurred between them. Surely, she could do that too. She put a shaky hand to her forehead. For the sake of her future at the ranch, she would have to.
Chapter Seven
When Eliza awoke, Katie took her a bowl of oatmeal in bed. Once she’d finished eating, however, the older lady insisted on getting up. Her movements were slow and obviously painful, but she shuffled her way to the rocking chair and stayed there, seeming content to talk while Katie dusted and swept.
“It was so much harder to keep this place clean before the boys put in the wood floor,” Eliza said.
Katie paused over her pan full of dirt. “When did they do that?”
“Last winter,” she said. “Before that, it was a dirt floor.”
Even now, the Walkers’ cabin was the most primitive home Katie had ever seen. She could hardly imagine what it would have been like to live here without flooring.
Eliza pointed to the pans hanging from the ceiling. “Jake attached the leftover wood to the rafters then put in the hooks, so I could keep my pots and pans out of the way.” She gave a small smile. “That boy’s always thinkin’ of something new.”
Katie stilled the broom that she was wielding. Today, more than ever, she needed to focus on Jake. “When do you think we’ll hear from him?” she asked.
Eliza looked thoughtful. “He should’ve gotten my letter by now,” she said. “If the news that you’re here brings him right home, he could be here any day. But, if he doesn’t show up soon, Caleb should go into town to see if there’s a letter waiting.”