by Rita Hestand
Wes pulled his gun and shot him, as Kate turned away, putting her head against the stall gate. Moby whined for a few minutes as though he knew he'd killed him.
"It happened so fast Wes. One minute I was just going into the barn, then I heard him at the horses and the sounds they made."
"He couldn't be saved, Kate. I'm sorry." Wes told her.
She raised up and nodded, "I know. We bought that horse when we sold my place. The other one was mine from my old place. But Jim wanted a mule to plow with."
"Mules are good."
He turned away as he started to leave and she called after him, "Wes—Be careful."
"Don't worry," he looked over his shoulder at her, "I'll be back." He promised as he stowed his gear on the back of his horse.
***
But Wes was gone three days without a word. Kate was worried sick about him. She'd seen passers by in wagonloads after the cat, guns raised, and most were sporting kegs of beer with them.
She'd told the Tate's' about the cat pinning her in the barn, and how Wes had gone after the cat himself. Mr. Tate had gone to hunt him too.
"Cat's are bad. They mark their territory and they'll be back, that's for sure." Mrs. Tate was telling her. "You were fortunate that Mr. Dolan got back in time to run him off."
"Yes, I guess I was." Kate agreed. "Hearing the horse in terror, all I could think about was how bloodied Jim had been."
Mrs. Tate offered her some coffee and home-made cookies, while they sat and talked.
"So how did Mr. Dolan happen by your place?"
"Oh, well, when I delivered my first wagon full of corn, I ask Mr. Dickens to send anyone he knew that might help me, and he did. We got the corn picked and delivered, now we have to get the hay gathered. Wes is a drifter, not prone to stay long, so I've got to get as much work done as I can while he is here. I wish I could talk him into staying, but I'm not sure I should. After all, it is his life."
"That gathering hay is a chore, girl, getting all the hay and corn done up and sold. Glad you got some help on that place. It's too big for a woman to handle alone."
"Yeah, I gotta decide if I'm going to try to stay on or sell. I can't get much for it if I sell as we hadn't paid on it very long." Kate glanced around the big house with admiration. "You've got a nice-looking house."
"We've been here a long time." Mrs. Tate smiled.
"Are you planning on leaving?"
"I don't know yet."
"Well, perhaps you can talk Mr. Dolan into staying a while longer, to plow your field before he leaves?"
"He's a drifter Mrs. Tate, I don't look for him to stay after the hay is gathered and sold." Kate told her.
"Call me Annie, and maybe you can convince him to stay on." Annie smiled at her.
"I don't know. I don't know if I have a right to try. He's got his own life to lead."
"Maybe he'll want to stay, I mean, you're a fine-looking young woman." Annie smiled at her.
Kate suddenly realized what Annie was insinuating and blushed.
"Oh, I don't think so. I heard tell that drifters don't stay in one place long." Kate assured her. "And with Jim not being in the grave long, do you think such a thing is fitting?"
"You are in a desperate situation."
"I don't know. You see, that's how I got married the first time, by allowing myself to appear too helpless. If I ever have another husband, I want it to be something he really wants. And Mr. Dolan is nothing more than a hired hand to me." Kate insisted.
"Well why not. Heard tell he's right handsome."
"Oh yeah, he is, but my husband is hardly cold in the ground, Annie"
Annie stared at her a minute. "Honey, you didn't love that man. No woman could love a man like him. I don't mean to talk of the dead, but he was arrogant and bragged all the time. But he wasn't right for you, anyone could tell that."
"What do you mean?" Kate looked shocked that she would suggest something like that.
"He hung out at the saloons on the weekends, I know that much myself. That tells me what kind of man he was, and some of what you put up with. He wasn't no husband to you. Anyone could see that. He treated you… well, like a father treats a daughter. A very bossy father, at that."
"Still, it isn't respectful to start looking the minute he's in the ground. I want to try and stand on my own this time. I want to know that the man loves me. Truly loves me. I want a little romance, or I won't be throwing no rope around him."
"Maybe, but out here you gotta grab what you can out of life honey. Or you miss the boat." Annie chuckled. "Tell me, is it true you quilt?"
"Well, yeah, when I have the time, just don't have much time for it now. Who told you?"
"Dickens showed us the quilt you made him when you first came. It was lovely. We women get together every Thursday evening and quilt a bit. Why don't you join us, it would be a way to get to know some of the town folk? You see, my dear, it isn't that they don't like you. It's that they don't know you."
"It sounds kinda nice, are you sure you want me though?"
"Why shore honey, we women have to stick together here abouts."
"Thursdays?"
"Yeah, you just come on over here next Thursday evening about seven and bring your sewing pieces along." Annie told her.
"Alright, I will, and thank you, Annie, for being so nice."
"Why you don't have to thank me for that. The only reason we were standoffish with you and your husband was because of him, not you!"
"Oh! Well, I guess I can understand that. He wasn't too social."
"I'll say." Annie laughed.
"I am a little worried about Wes." Kate kept fidgeting with her hands. Annie looked up. " I mean he went out alone, and I've not heard from him in days. I got to get the hay stacked and no telling what has happened to him." Kate fretted. "I hope I don't find him in the same position Jim was in."
As Kate went to the door to leave Annie followed. "Don't you fret. He's young and looks very capable of handling anything. He'll be back. If he said so"
"I hope your right." She turned to look Annie in the eye. Annie was a very handsome woman of about forty, with brown hair she wore up in a bun and she stared into her blue eyes. "I sure need him. Don't know what I'll do when he decides to leave."
"Don't you fret about that. I got a feeling he won't be leaving at all."
Kate went home and seeing no signs of Wes returning walked out into the hay field. She began raking the hay into stacks. It was a hot summer day, and a mockingbird sang his pretty tune in the big oak tree out in front of the house. She was doing a fair job when Wes came up behind her. "Need some help?" Came his deep voice.
She grabbed her chest. She whirled around and saw him and on instinct she ran into his arms. Still, the minute she did, her hands came in contact with his chest as his shirt was unbuttoned some. The feel of his skin against hers made her too aware of the man. Embarrassed by her own actions, she pulled away and stared.
Moby came up between them and licked Wes' hand.
He broke out in a boyish grin, "Told you I'd be back."
"I was worried. You been gone three days… " She said rather breathlessly as she took him all in.
"I know." His voice was a bit husky now, as he seemed to be looking her over too.
"Did you get him?" She smiled up at him now.
"No," He almost laughed. "I stalked him, cornered him and almost had him when a damn skunk walked by."
"A skunk?" She asked then laughed. "Then what happened." She was glad he'd broken the tension between them.
"Not much, as the skunk stood there watching us, about that time the cat took off, and the skunk almost sprayed me until I got very still. I stood there must have been an hour or so, and he finally got disinterested and scurried away."
She laughed again.
"So you were worried huh?" He studied her a minute.
She blushed, "Well, I kept thinking he might get you like he did Jim."
He grinned. "Got any of that lem
onade you make all the time?" he asked with a grin.
She smiled and nodded.
"Where do you get lemons, out here?" he asked her.
She turned to look at his smiling face. "Well, I happened on them by accident. A fellow on one of those Mississippi boats stopped off selling them, came from Louisiana with a wagon full of them. I bought as many as I could."
"You really do like those boats, don't you?" He mused with a grin.
"I guess I do. It looks so exciting to be on one and see all the country from it. The women, they are dressed so nice, and the men too, and they look so happy, riding down the river like that. It must be grand."
There was a sparkle in her eyes as she talked of it, and he couldn't help but stare at her.
They walked back to the house together with Moby between them and he told her all about the cat and skunk and how hard it was to pin him into a spot so he could shoot him.
She wanted to loop her arm in his and skip all the way to the house, but that would have been childish. Still, it was the first time in a long time she felt really happy. After all, he was back!
Chapter Eight
They worked together every day in the field raking the hay into stacks, then loading the wagon full. It was much harder work and he encouraged her to rest off and on.
It wasn't long before they had a big wagonload of it, and Wes told her about some people.
"Do you know this rancher?" she asked.
"Dickens told me about him the other day. He said he has a good size spread the other side of his place that could use some, and that he might know some others."
"That's a start, huh?" She smiled. "I honestly don't know what I'd do without you and Mr. Dickens." She sighed.
"Well, it's a matter of putting yourself out there and asking questions of the right people. Dickens has lived here all his life, he knows everyone. So he's a good place to start about anything." He smiled.
"You think a lot of him, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do." He said a bit solemnly.
"Me to!" she smiled at him
He glanced at her and smiled back.
They rode together in the wagon. Moby climbed up in the back and laid down.
Wes was glad she was going with him. He thought she should get to know the people she could do business with, so he took her along. That was one reason, the other reason was to keep her safe from the Smith brothers. He didn't know how often they stopped off at her place but leaving her alone wasn't a good idea, especially since now they knew her husband was dead.
"Did you and Jim have picnics together, or go to dances?" He asked out of the blue.
She glanced at him a bit startled that he'd ask. "N-no, we didn't. I guess that's a bit hard to understand, isn't it? But our relationship was different in the first place. He didn’t court me if that's what you mean. It was just… well, he'd come over, make sure everything was alright and talk with me a bit, and then leave."
"Then how on earth did the two of you get married?"
He chuckled.
"I don't remember exactly." She chuckled too. But when he shot her a strange look, she tried to explain it. "I mean, one day he seemed to notice I'd grown up. He asked if I had a beau. I told him no. Then a couple of weeks later, he asked me to wed him. We'd known each other for some time so I said yes. I guess it's not how most people get hooked up together."
"The two of you didn't love each other, did you?" His smiled disappeared.
She seemed to study that question before answering. "Well, no, I guess we didn't." She saw how he reacted to that and she went on. "Jim wasn't romantic. Far from it. He worked a lot, and that's where his mind was most of the time. He was a very serious kind of man."
"You were that lonely?" he asked staring now.
"Well," she began a bit frustrated at the way he said that. "You don’t understand, there wasn't anyone there but me, Moby my dog, and my horse. No people. I lived out in the sticks, alone for over five years. I knew a few girls, but they lived way on the other side of my place and I only saw them every now and then. After my parents died, Jim got my supplies for me, so I didn't even have to go to town. I felt a bit indebted to him, as he checked on me, made sure everything was alright. I had very little money for pretty dresses or anything else. I felt indebted to him because when I ran low on money, he'd pay for the supplies I needed. I didn't want him to, but he did it anyway But, we never even kissed until we married, and that was a bit short lived too."
"Well you know, I've been thinking, if you found yourself a man, that you liked this time, maybe you would be alright."
"You're worried, aren't you?" she asked seeing the frown on his face as he said that.
"You don't think I can keep my place up. You're worried when you leave that I won't make it. You can't worry about me. Jim worried too, that's why I was beholdin' to him. I guess, if the truth were known, that's why I married him. But I realize now, it's not the right reason to marry. I did a lot of growing up the year we were married. I won't make that mistake again. Except for the occasional conversation, marriage didn't hold much for me. So I won't be looking for a husband."
"Look," he stopped the wagon to look at her. "That's not what a real marriage is about, Kate. You married for all the wrong reasons." He shrugged.
Her face flushed again.
He drove the wagon back on the road once more.
"I know I did. I see it all now. So what makes you think I want to jump back into that again?"
"It's just that there aren't a lot of places a woman can go to work and make an honest living, Kate. And no, I don't think unless you get some help out here, that you can make it, alone."
"Well, maybe I'll get a job at the saloon, and you can come visit me." She teased.
He stopped the wagon suddenly this time, "Come visit you? Do you know what they do?"
"Of course I do. I'm not that dumb." She felt her cheeks grow red. "I was just teasing."
"You'll never be that kind of woman!" he insisted.
In a way his words flattered her, but again, maybe he didn't think she was good enough to be one of those girls.
Suddenly, she moved toward him, leaning into him and on tiptoes to kiss him for all she was worth. She meant to prove something to him, but at that moment everything changed. The air became thicker, the sun became hotter. She couldn't think, she couldn't breathe, and the funny thing was, she didn't want to. His lips were pillow soft, encouraging her to take her fill of him. The kiss was mesmerizing because the minute her lips touched his, he seemed to melt into her and take complete control of her. Her breathing was erratic, her heart pounded, and the kiss went on forever. She didn't want it to end, it was unlike anything she ever experienced. Maybe he was right, she'd never make a saloon girl, she didn't know enough. And yet she knew instinctively that this man could teach her everything she needed to know.
When she finally pulled away, he looked stunned. HE got very quiet, almost as though he was ignoring her completely.
"Well, do you still think I’m not good enough to be one of them?" she asked boldly, her face scarlet now.
How had she been so bold?
"You've certainly got all the right instincts," he murmured softly, "but could you kiss a man like that when he's taking your clothes off and wanting to take you like your husband did?"
"My husband raped me," she protested.
"Well, what do you think those drunken cowboys do? Most of them don't care how rough they are, how dirty either."
"Are you telling me what my husband did was normal?" she almost shouted.
His eyes bore into her and his expression softened on her. "No," he smiled gently at her. "I'm telling you that you don't deserve that kind of treatment."
"Is there any difference in one man and another?" she asked her voice softening from his sweet remark.
"I guess you'll have to find that out for yourself." He said lowly.
"Do you always kiss a girl that way?" she asked after a long silence.
"So-o gentle like… "
"I guess it depends on the girl." He grinned.
"So you don't think I'd make it, even as a saloon girl?" she asked to break the tension between them.
He was silent a moment.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He reached a finger to close it and smiled. "You're not that hard, Kate. You surely aren't."
"Well, what you are suggesting is to marry to keep a roof over my head. And basically, that's what I did with Jim. And I know now, that was a mistake."
"You could meet some young man and fall in love and marry for all the right reasons, since you already know the wrong reasons to marry."
"That would take a lot of time, and I don't have that kind of time. I've got to get this crop in and then either try to put in a new crop or sell." She stared at him, "And what makes you such an expert on marriage?"
"I suppose my folks. They loved each other. They were good, God fearing people. You're right, I'm not an expert, but at least I've seen it before."
"Seen what?" She chuckled.
"Real love."
"I gave up on that, my wedding night."
"Not all men are like that." He murmured. "So how did I rank against your husband's kissing?"
"Well, I wouldn't know. He only pecked me on the cheek at the wedding."
"I mean on your wedding night."
"He didn't kiss me on my wedding night. He just took me."
Wes stared now, and something in his expression changed.
"I guess you might say you were quite sensational. Must have had a lot of practice."
"It isn't practice that makes it good, it's feelings." He told her, his eyes sparkling into hers.
"Well, just so you know, that's how some of those cowboys would take you as a whore.
"Are you trying to shock me?"
"Yes, I am."
"I'm not going to become a saloon girl, Wes." She sighed with frustration.
"No?"
"No." she gave him a shy smile.
"Well, just so you know, you don't need any practice in kissing." He sent her a raking smile.