Brides of Kentucky

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Brides of Kentucky Page 34

by Lynn A. Coleman


  “I’ll be right there.” Katherine folded the sewing and left it on the chair. She opened the door.

  Her nephew stood there, a tray of food and drink balancing precariously on his little hands.

  “Thank you.” As she took the tray, the boy sighed with relief.

  “Auntie Katherine, are you all right?”

  “Yes dear,” she said, setting the tray on her nightstand. “I just didn’t eat enough this morning.”

  “Why?” He placed his hands on his hips, imitating her.

  “Because I got busy and forgot.”

  “That’s silly. Everyone knows you have to eat.”

  Katherine ruffled Tucker’s dark curls. “You’re absolutely right.”

  Apparently quite pleased with his astute powers of observation, Tucker puffed up his chest and headed toward the kitchen. He was quite the charmer. Not unlike his uncle.

  Katherine groaned at the thought as she bit off a hunk of her sandwich. She saw Shelton everywhere. Frightened by her growing attraction to him, she prayed she would not give in to carnality.

  Chapter 6

  Every inch of Shelton’s body ached. He’d never worked so hard in all his life. After two days at the mill, he had blisters on his blisters and several had popped. He pulled off his work gloves to see how badly his hands bled today.

  He left every morning before the rest of the family stirred. The trek to the mill took an hour on Kehoe. The stallion loved the exercise. But ten hours a day of back-breaking work forced Shelton to once again wonder whether he could ever make a living suitable enough to support his parents. The idea of running a herd of hogs to Virginia for some quick cash looked better every day.

  On the other hand, going west seemed promising. People came to Creelsboro from all over, heading through on their way to the frontier. Land opportunities abounded, and rumor had it that horses roamed the plains in huge herds, with plenty for the taking.

  His parents would never go that far west. His father wanted to stay in Kentucky, and his mother would want to be near their grandchildren. When he gave them some.

  “Get back to work, Greene,” the foreman hollered over the sound of saws, hammers, and axes.

  Shelton waved and put his gloves back on. Another hour of cutting logs and he’d be able to go home for the night. “Home.” He snickered and rolled the next log to be split. I’m living in a barn.

  Eight months ago he was living in a mansion and didn’t have a care in the world. His food and clothing were prepared for him every day. His only concern was how to acquire and breed more horses. Now look at me. He’d had to sell off almost all his stock, and he had no home to call his own. Lord, I don’t know what to do.

  The sledgehammer seemed to weigh more than it did two days ago. Shelton grabbed the iron wedge and positioned it in the log. The sharp smell of freshly cut wood invigorated him. He raised the mallet and heaved it down on the wedge.

  The clang of the quitting bell rang. Shelton dusted off his work clothes and peeled off his gloves.

  “You ain’t worked much, have ya?” Frank Smith blustered, staring at Shelton’s fingers.

  “Not this kind of work.”

  “Humph. You’d best be putting some teat salve on them hands tonight.”

  “Teat salve? You mean the stuff folks use on cow udders?”

  “Yes sir. Takes the bite out of them blisters like nothing else around. Check a dairy farmer’s hands. They always be soft as a baby’s bottom.”

  Shelton looked at his cracked and bleeding palms. He’d try anything at this point.

  “Greene, come on over here,” Mr. Crockett called.

  “Thanks, Frank.”

  “You’d best get to Mr. Crockett right quick iffen you wants to keep this here job.” Frank set a cap on his head and hiked up his collar.

  Shelton ran to the main building. “What can I do for you, sir?”

  He handed Shelton a brown envelope. “I’m sorry, son, but I’m afraid I have to let you go. Your work was half the amount of the others. I gave you a full day’s pay. I know you tried hard.”

  Shelton’s shoulders sank right along with his spirits. Without a word, he reached out for the envelope. Mr. Crockett didn’t release it.

  “You interested in selling that stallion of yours?”

  “No sir.”

  “It appears to me you need to earn some money quickly. Why won’t you sell?”

  Shelton squared his shoulders. “Kehoe is my future. I might be in short supply of capital right now, but if I were to let go of Kehoe, I’d be setting back my plans by five years.”

  “You a breeder?”

  “Yes sir. Kehoe is prime horse flesh.”

  “He’s got good lines. Is he fast?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Want to test his skills against my three-year-old? If your horse wins, I’ll double your pay. If mine wins, you sell Kehoe to me for a fair price.”

  Shelton held back a laugh. Then it dawned on him how easy it would be to fall into gambling, just like his father.

  “Mr. Crockett, with all due respect, that offer is hardly worth considering. I’ve never seen your horse, let alone know how well he runs. If I were to blindly wager my future against yours, what profit would I have? I’d consider a friendly race between men, but I will not gamble my future away.”

  Mr. Crockett scrutinized Shelton with the cunning of a hawk looking over his prey. “Done. A friendly race, nothing more.”

  “That, sir, is acceptable.”

  “William,” Mr. Crockett yelled. “Get Bailey.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll be soaking my hands while we wait for your stallion.”

  A smirk rose from the corners of Mr. Crockett’s mouth. Shelton walked to the pump, filled the bucket, and soaked his hands in the icy water.

  Feeling slightly relieved, but shivering with cold, he crossed to the holding pen, where Kehoe stood munching on some hay. “How are you, boy?”

  Kehoe nuzzled his nose into Shelton’s chest.

  “We’re going to have some fun today.” Shelton cinched the saddle and readied Kehoe with some prancing around the mill yard.

  Mr. Crockett’s three-year-old stallion trotted into the yard. He had a chestnut coat with white boots. His muscles seemed taut and ready for action.

  “Wanna race him, boy?” Shelton whispered in his horse’s ear.

  Kehoe raised his head and pranced in place. Shelton tightened his grasp on the reins. Kehoe loved speed, and today he’d be able to use it.

  Katherine didn’t know what to do with herself. Prudence had prepared the evening meal. Urias and Shelton had been out of the house all day. The children were busy playing. Katherine had spent four hours sewing, but making clothing for strangers gave her little joy.

  All her life, her time had been owned by others. Her own goals and desires had diminished to the point where she felt like nothing more than cattle. But at least I knew where I fit in. Freedom without purpose left her feeling as if there were no solid ground under her feet.

  Katherine strolled to the clearing in the woods, where she’d spent a lot of private time. The circular area contained two comfortable wooden benches. The large, flowering bushes that hedged the alcove gave a person some privacy in the spring and summer, though a person wouldn’t remain hidden for long in the late fall. Grandma Mac had created the little sanctuary when she was a young bride living in this new territory. Grandma and Grandpa Mac moved to Jamestown five years before it was incorporated in 1827. At that time there were only a handful of neighbors. This small area had become a safe haven for all the women of the family. Katherine felt like family to the MacKenneths.

  She sat on one of the benches and glanced at the sky. A pink dusting of clouds in the west made her realize she didn’t have much time to be alone.

  The crack of a falling tree in the distance made her jump. Are the men still cutting down trees for winter? She could have sworn Urias had said they’d cut all the cords of wood needed for the
ir three households last week.

  She listened carefully. No sound of chopping. Perhaps nature had taken its course on a lone tree in the woods. Katherine peeked her head out of the sanctuary and looked for any signs of the men. She saw no one.

  Settling back on the bench, she prayed. It was in this garden she had rediscovered God and become acquainted with the concept of Jesus as her friend. A smile spread across her face as she remembered Grandma Mac telling her how foolish she’d been to blame God for her mother’s actions or for the way she’d been treated by the men who had owned her. She’d never been able to tell Grandma Mac, or anyone else for that matter, the sordid details about her life as a bond servant. Grandma Mac was too godly of a woman to hear such things, she reasoned. Katherine wanted to shield all the family from such horrors.

  Earlier that day, when memories of her horrible past had bubbled to the surface with intense urgency, she’d almost told Shelton the truth about her life. But she couldn’t. No one should know. No one would respect her if they knew.

  “Oh God, why?”

  Another memory floated to the surface. Shelton holding her in his arms, his loving touch on her skin. The sweet caress of his finger on her face when he brushed the strands of her hair away from her eyes.

  “How can this be, Lord? How can I desire a man when …” Tears spilled into her lap. “Forgive me, Lord. I am such a wretch.”

  “Child?” Grandma Mac’s voice cracked.

  Katherine looked up and saw the older woman shuffling toward her. She wiped the tears from her face. “I’m sorry. I’ll let you have your prayer time.” She stood.

  Grandma Mac leaned on her cane, placing a hand on Katherine’s shoulder. “I’ll not hear a single word of you apologizing for praying here.” She urged Katherine to sit back down, then joined her on the bench. “Now tell me, child, why all the tears?”

  Shelton led Kehoe to the trough. Sweating and snorting heavily from the fast run, the horse greedily lapped up the water.

  “Fine horse, Greene.” Mr. Crockett brought his horse to the water. “You sure I can’t interest you in selling him?”

  “Afraid not.”

  “I can see why you’re holding on to him.”

  “He’s sired some good stock. My mare should be foaling next month. Their mating should produce excellent offspring.”

  “Will that one be for sale?”

  “More than likely, when the time is right. Interested?”

  Mr. Crockett extended his hand. “Absolutely. Send word and I’ll examine the foal.”

  Shelton shook the man’s hand.

  Crockett eyed Kehoe. “I’ve got a mare that might produce good stock with your stallion. Would you consider allowing me to hire him to stud?”

  Shelton smiled. “I’m living with Urias O’Leary. When your mare is in season, send word to me through him, and Kehoe and I will come on over.”

  “Wonderful. Have you considered racing him professionally? Could earn you some additional income. And those events can be good exhibitions for getting the word out about the stud service.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Shelton looked at the setting sun. “I’d best be getting home. Good night, Mr. Crockett.”

  “Good night, Mr. Greene.” Mr. Crockett handed him his pay envelope.

  Shelton stuffed it in his pocket. He had earned the man’s respect, but only after he’d been fired. How could he send for his parents if he couldn’t find gainful employment?

  As he turned his horse toward home, his hands stung from the opened blisters. The idea of Katherine’s gentle fingers on these fresh wounds sent a glimmer of emotion through him. But what emotion? The word acceptance came to mind. Was that what he was feeling? His father and mother had accepted his help with the family finances, but only after the bankers told Hiram there was no other alternative. Urias and Prudence showed genuine concern for him, but he didn’t feel exactly at home in their house. The time had come for him to make his own mark in the world. But how?

  Kehoe kept a gentle canter back to the farm. Shelton decided he needed to spend more time in prayer. Then he’d talk with Urias and see if he could come up with some ideas. With the pending stud fee and the sale of the foal, maybe he could convince the bank to give him a loan for his own farm. He had proof back in Hazel Green of the profits he’d made from the breeding of his horses. Would that be enough for the bank to take a risk?

  As he came up to the barn, he saw Urias loading his wagon with Katherine’s belongings. A jolt of concern raced through his heart. “What’s going on?”

  Chapter 7

  Katherine sat on her bed, perplexed at the events that had occurred over the past hour. When Grandma Mac found her in the garden sanctuary, she’d told the dear old woman how foolish she felt for wanting a little privacy, a place of her own. The next thing she knew, they were marching back to Urias’s house and Grandma Mac was informing the family that Katherine was moving in with her. The family agreed it was a wonderful idea since Grandma Mac could use the company now that her husband had passed on.

  “What can I carry out to the wagon?” Shelton appeared in her doorway, looking like an Irish warrior prepared to defend the honor of a maid.

  “The quilt can go, but the rest of the bedding will stay here.”

  He held out his hands for the quilt. “Anything else?”

  “Shelton,” she cried out when she saw the wounds on his wonderful, sensitive hands. She ran to his side and examined the blisters more closely. “What happened?”

  Shelton shuffled back and forth on his feet. “I’ve been working at Crockett’s mill for a couple days. My hands aren’t used to that kind of work.”

  “Let me cleanse them.”

  “They’ll be fine.” He tried to stuff them in his pockets, but quickly pulled them out again. “Why are you moving?”

  “It was Grandma Mac’s idea.”

  Prudence walked in. “And when Grandma Mac gets her mind bent on something …” She started folding up the quilt. “Well, let’s just say folks respect their elders here.”

  Katherine returned her attention to the wounds on Shelton’s hands. “Did you wear gloves?” She took a cool compress and drizzled water over the wounds. Dirt and grit had worked their way into some of the open sores.

  Urias appeared in the doorway. “He’s a sensitive boy,” he said with a smirk. Prudence giggled.

  “I am not a boy,” Shelton seethed. “And yes, I was wearing gloves.”

  “Just teasing. I know you’ve been working hard. Mr. Crockett makes a man do an hour and a half’s work in an hour.”

  Shelton’s shoulders relaxed. Katherine fought off the desire to rub the tension from his back. “He needs some udder salve. His hands are raw.”

  Urias stepped into the room and peered at Shelton’s fingers. “You said you had blisters. You didn’t tell me they looked like ground meat. Prudence, take care of Shelton. Katherine and I can finish packing. Grandma Mac will have my hide if I don’t get Katherine’s bed over there in the next fifteen minutes.”

  By the time Katherine arrived at Grandma Mac’s house, the rest of the MacKenneth family had set up one of the rooms for her. She couldn’t imagine a more supportive family, or one that feared the matriarch so much.

  Over the years Grandma Mac had spent a lot of time with Katherine, teaching her to read and schooling her in much of the education she’d missed growing up. Would rooming with her solve her desire to have her own place? She didn’t think so. But a break from the late-night awakenings of baby Elizabeth would be a welcome relief.

  After the rest of the family left for home, Katherine found herself sitting on her bed in a strange room. She loved Grandma Mac and looked forward to helping her. It was becoming increasingly difficult for the dear woman to get around these days. Besides, for the first five years of Prudence and Urias’s marriage, Katherine had been a part of their household. It would be nice for them to have time alone as a family. At least, that was what she kept telling herself. />
  A light tap on the door drew her out of her musings. “Yes?”

  “May I come in, dear?”

  “Of course.”

  Grandma Mac sat in the rocking chair beside the bed. “I suppose I acted a bit rash to have you move in with me this very evening. But there was a reason for my insistence.”

  Katherine clamped her mouth tight.

  “The barn is not a fit place for Shelton to live. And adding a room on to Urias’s house right now would not be wise because of the new baby. I proposed that you move in with me so Shelton can move into your old room.”

  “I see.” She felt a bit embarrassed at not having thought of that herself. It made perfect sense.

  “Also, Urias is quite concerned about your fear of Shelton. Although I haven’t seen it myself for the past week or more.”

  “No, I’m not afraid of Shelton.”

  “Good. Because I’m hiring him to work for me while Mac takes his family fur trapping.”

  Katherine nodded. She wasn’t frightened by Shelton any longer. At least not in the same way as before. Now she was just afraid of the emotions she felt toward him.

  “Do you love him?”

  Katherine’s head shot up. “No.”

  “Hmm. That’s an awfully quick reply for a woman who was crying out to God about her feelings for a man just a few hours ago.”

  “I can’t love him.” Katherine glided her hands over the quilt. “I’m not fit.”

  “Nonsense. You are a redeemed child of the King. You’re as fit as any woman to marry a man.”

  “I can’t. Besides, Shelton doesn’t think of me in those terms. He knows who I am, who I was. After all, I was his servant.”

  “Tell me this, Katherine. Does Prudence treat you like a servant?”

  She shook her head.

  “Does Shelton?”

  Did he really? “No, I suppose not.”

  Grandma Mac leaned back in the rocker and swung back and forth for a moment. “Then perhaps you should trust God and pray for His guidance. You’ve healed tremendously since you arrived five years ago. You no longer blame God. You’ve trusted Him with your soul. Why not trust Him regarding your future, too?”

 

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