by Karen Noland
Providence
by
Karen Noland
Providence
Published by Karen D. Noland for Amazon Kindle
Copyright © 2011 by Karen D. Noland All Rights Reserved
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EPILOGUE
Chapter One
Taking a deep breath, Kate waited for the contraction to ease before reaching in once more as the cow relaxed. This time she felt it. The small hoof was there in her grasp at last.
“Take it easy, momma,” she whispered soothingly. The woman tugged, gently at first, then with ever increasing force. Just as she was sure that it was lost, the tiny leg popped into place. With one last loud bellow the cow gave a mighty heave and the little calf emerged into the light of day.
Kate sat back on the hard red earth, wiping an arm across her sweaty brow as she sighed deeply. Once again the miracle of new life was before her. The little thing was already struggling feebly to find its legs. The big black cow lowed softly and stood up as the calf gained strength, finally finding a precarious footing. A rough tongue ran over the calf’s back and he was down again.
A smile spread slowly over Kate’s tired features. The freshness of new life never ceased to amaze her. “God, you are so great,” she murmured aloud. “Thank you for allowing this one to live today, thank you.”
This almost constant dialogue with her Creator had become a way of life for Kate over the weeks and months since Will had died. She was alone so often tending to the cattle, the land, the horses, and the myriad other responsibilities left to her when she became a widow that talking aloud like this assured her that someone was always with her, even in this vast land that threatened at times to overwhelm her.
The cow and calf were moving slowly away from her, the calf swaying unsteadily, trying desperately to keep up with his large black momma. “He’s a nice one, going to be big and stout,” Kate thought briefly. “He may make a nice bull someday; after all, old Casey isn’t getting any younger.”
These thoughts ran aimlessly through her mind as she watched the pair approaching the rest of the herd a short distance away. This one made it, but what about the next one? Only last week she watched helplessly while a cow struggled to give birth to a calf that was hopelessly too large. She cried tears of loss and frustration as she put the poor cow out of its misery. She felt every death not only as a personal loss, but the cattle were the lifeblood of this ranch, and every one she lost was lost income as well.
Strands of damp brown hair clung to her temples, while beads of sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades. It was already so hot, and only April. What would the summer bring? She reached down running her hand through the rich new grass covering the prairie. Would the spring rains continue? Would there be enough grass this year? So many of her cows had calved and still more were coming. How would she get them to market this fall?
“God, why? Why did you have to take Will?” the pain was still raw and fresh in her heart though it had been nine months since his death. The red earth over his grave was already hidden beneath the green grass, but the pain in her heart was as fresh as newly turned earth. Tears of frustration and anger welled within her. She turned her face to the clear sky, took a deep ragged breath searching the heavens for answers, but there were no answers forthcoming this day, only the wide expanse of the infinite sky.
Finally, seeing her job here was at an end at least for now, she stood and strode briskly toward the sorrel mare waiting patiently with reins draped over a branch of a nearby tree. Opening the leather pack strapped behind the cantle of the saddle, she took out a rough rag and began to wipe away the blood and the dirt from the recent calving. Replacing the rag, she rolled her sleeves back down over her arms, grimacing slightly. Picking up the reins, she stepped up into the stirrup and swung herself into the old leather saddle.
She looked down and sighed at the worn trousers covering her legs. Yet another reminder of Will’s passing and having to adapt to running a cattle ranch alone. She longed for a hot bath and a fresh pretty dress to wear, but they just weren’t suited to the work she found herself forced into. She almost laughed out loud remembering the first time she had tried to round up a herd of old rangy cows wearing her long skirts and a petticoat, riding the ever so ladylike side saddle that Will had saved for and surprised her with on her birthday. It wasn’t long before she decided Will’s breeches, rough cambric shirts and old worn saddle were far more suited to the job at hand. Besides, who was there to see her out here?
The mare was young and fresh, it wasn’t hard for Kate to urge her into an easy ground-covering lope toward home. They steered around the small herd, careful not to disturb the cows and calves lazing in the warmth of the late-morning sun. A golden glow shone all around them, highlighting every blade of green prairie grass and each new leaf of the early budding trees. The tightly curled pink and white blossoms of redbud and dogwood were beginning to unfurl in a riot of color all around. She relaxed into the saddle; the mare obediently slowed to a trot, and finally to a fast walk.
“How could anyone doubt your existence, Lord, with all this life abounding?” The mare snorted and tossed her head as if in agreement. Kate laughed, the morning’s tension easing, she picked up the reins and set off at a lope.
***
As they climbed a grassy rise, the homestead came into full view. Will had chosen the perfect spot to build their dream, nestled in a small valley protected on the north and west by small knolls rising from the prairie. They knew that God had led them to the place they had dreamed about from the moment they left tragedy behind them in Missouri. A beautiful grove of trees growing along a spring in the small valley provided the backdrop for their new life in Oklahoma Territory.
Kate caught her breath at the sight of her beloved home. She checked the mare, slowing her to a walk, then she sat deeper in the seat. Tossing her head impatiently, the big sorrel mare reluctantly stopped. “I know you’re ready to get home to your oats, but just look there, Gypsy, isn’t it perfect?”
Smoke drifted lazily from the chimney of the stone fireplace she and Will had built together, stone by heavy stone. He had insisted on a proper hearth for their home, and it was the first thing they built after settling on their claim. A snug frame home soon took shape around it, surrounded by a wide porch, and real glass windows with wooden shutters. That first spring, she had transplanted a number of Redbud and Dogwood saplings to the front of the house. Over the eight years that marked their short life together there, the trees had matured and other buildings added. There was a large barn with a small bunkhouse attached for the cowboys they employed off and on over the years. Corrals and ketch pens held the ranch’s horses, milch cows, a sow and her piglets. Will had built the smokehouse, spring house, a few small storage sheds and the blacksmith shop, now sadly neglected. Towering above all, a windmill turning lazily in the morning breeze completed the idyllic scene.
As they sat watching, Kate began to run a critical eye over the place. Fences needed mending; a new hole appeared in the smokehouse roof, probably the result of the hail storm a few weeks ago. She sighed and said a small prayer for strength to face the challenges ahead. Suddenly, the front door of the main house flew open and a small red-haired figure darted out across the yard and into the poultry yard sending feathers flying as the hens scurried out of her way and the large
white geese honked in protest. Kate’s heart filled immediately with love for her small irrepressible daughter. Jolene was so like her father, full of life and filled with mischief. Jo was followed shortly by a small graying woman carrying a basket and brandishing a bonnet. Though Kate was too far away to hear the woman’s words, she knew Mrs. Insley was berating the little girl for being out in the hot sun without it.
Forgetting for now the chores that lay ahead and the cows behind, Kate and Gypsy set off down the hill for home.
***
“Momma’s coming, momma’s coming!” shrieked Jo. Mrs. Insley looked up to see a red mare and a very tired, dirty woman heading down the slope from the west. Shaking her head, she went to fetch water and towels for Kate.
“What has my little Irish rose been doing this morning?” Kate called to the small spitfire running toward her. She swung her leg over the back of the saddle, stepping easily to the ground. Looping the reins over the corral fence, she turned just in time to avoid being tackled and swooped the girl up into her arms.
“Where have you been, momma? We’ve got breakfast waiting for you. I found six whole eggs this morning and Nana let me knead the biscuits. Later we’re going to churn butter, and if I’m good Nana said that I can help her dip candles.” Kate placed a finger over her daughter’s mouth to stem the endless flow of words.
“It sounds like you’ve a busy day planned then! I’ve been out checking the herd in the west pastures. Would you like to hear about it?”
“Oh, yes, momma! Nana said that Jonathan should be home today with Papa Insley. I’ve missed them. Do you really think they’ll be home today? Maybe Jon will play with me.” Jo paused for a breath, and Kate set her down as Mrs. Insley appeared on the back porch with a basin of water and a clean towel.
“Thought you looked as though you be needin’ these.” She set the basin on a bench near the kitchen door, draping the towel over a rail above the bench.
“Thank you, I do, Mrs. Insley.” She gave the older woman a grateful look and a quick peck on the cheek as she climbed the porch steps, followed by her constant red-haired shadow. “Jo tells me you expect the men back today.”
“Humph, that I do, two days to city, a day to load the provisions, and two days back. They best be rollin’ in here by this afternoon, no less!” She stated, standing at the open kitchen door wiping her hand on her apron.
“Well, that’s one thing to look forward to. I’ve sorely missed them these last few days.”
“Humph.”
Kate took off the soiled hat she wore handing it to Jo, and pulled loose the ribbon that held her hair up. A mass of dusty brown curls cascaded over her shoulders. Dipping both hands into the warm water, she let it fall down over her wrists and arms, splashing it up over her tired dirty face. The feeling of being somewhat clean again was exquisite. Kate lingered briefly hoping the water would wash away more than just the dust -- wash away the scars, the fear and anger, the loneliness and the frustration of the last few months. She breathed in deeply and let the relaxing feeling flow through her entire body.
“Look at me, momma, I’m a cowgirl!” The little girl’s voice cut through her reverie, bringing her back to a full realization of time and place. Jo was wearing the old beat up felt hat and riding the porch rail, one hand holding on, the other flung high in the air.
“Jo, stop that! Get down from there this instant!” Kate snapped at the girl.
“But, Momma, I just....”
“I don’t care what you just! Get down now! Do you hear me?” Kate’s voice was sharp.
“Yes, ma’am.” Jo answered meekly. Giving her mother a wide-eyed stare, she slipped past her and ran into the kitchen, seeking refuge in the arms of her Nana.
Trembling, Kate closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “Oh, God, forgive me, but I am so scared.” She finished washing quickly, hung the towel to dry on the rail and walked slowly into the kitchen. The smell of fresh baked biscuits and strong coffee enveloped her. In spite of her fear, her stomach growled and reminded her just how hungry she was. Jo was sitting at the table watching her warily with tears streaming down her rosy cheeks.
Kate knelt down and opened her arms. “Honey, come here.” Jo ran into her open arms and Kate hugged her tight. They were both crying. Tears of grief streamed down Kate’s face, mingling with the tears of pain from Jo. “I am so sorry, Honey, I didn’t mean to frighten you, but when I saw you like that...”
“I know, Momma. Nana told me, I didn’t mean it; honest I didn’t.”
“I know you didn’t. I love you.”
“Love you, too, momma.”
“Why don’t you hop up to the table and we’ll all eat a nice hot breakfast together. How’s that sound?” Kate stood the girl up and gave her a tap on the bottom sending her to the big plank table that took up the entire west end of the kitchen.
In the instant that Kate had turned to see Jo riding that rail, the little girl had looked so much like Will, wearing the same beat up felt hat with red curls peeking out, a hand thrown up in the air as Will had always done when breaking the colts. As he had done breaking the last colt. His last ride. In that one instant, Kate had relived the entire horrifying moment. She saw Will riding the colt to the ground, the horse falling, falling, Will crushed beneath the thousand pound animal, his neck snapped in an instant. One minute so full of life and dreams, the next no more than a shell; a limp, lifeless body that lay crushed and broken on the ground. Her world had changed forever in that moment.
Kate joined her daughter at the big table, already set with a heaping platter of warm biscuits, a crock of freshly churned butter and a smaller crock containing the last of the honey from the bee tree they had found last fall. Mrs. Insley carried over three plates with fried eggs and slices of cured ham, which were shortly joined by two mugs of strong hot coffee and a cup of milk for Jo. As Mrs. Insley took her place on the far side of the table the three joined hands while Kate asked a blessing on the meal and the safe return of the men.
For a moment nothing could be heard but the sounds of a meal being enjoyed and the everyday sounds of farm life drifting in through the open door, the bellowing of a bull, an answering neigh from a grazing mare, the clucking and cooing of scratching hens, and the ever present drone of flies and honey bees.
“Momma, how are the cows doing today? Are there any new calves? I want to feed one like last year. Are there any that don’t have mommies?” Jo asked between bites of biscuit, honey dripping down her small round chin.
Kate reached over and caught the golden drop of honey from Jo’s chin just as it threatened to mar her clean white collar. “I had to help one this morning, Jo, but I’m happy to report that cow and calf are both doing quite well. No orphans so far this spring, thank God.” Kate took a bite of ham, and savored the rich smoky-sweet taste. “I counted forty-two cows in the west pastures with our brand. At least twenty had healthy calves and I’m certain that a dozen more should calve in a week or two. And there were over thirty steers in the far valley on that side. If the herd on the east side does as well, we should be able to send a fair lot to market.”
They had separated the herds some years earlier when Will was determined to improve on their native longhorn cattle by introducing a new strain he had read about. The bull he brought back from Kansas with him, Casey, was big and black and had no horns at all. He said it was called an Angus, and should serve to produce superior calves with better weaning weights and earlier maturation. Along with Casey had come ten mixed blood cows, mostly black and only a few with horns. To Kate it had all seemed Greek at the time, but she grew to like the look of the bull, and his calves certainly were larger and more prepared for market than the others.
“T’would be a welcome thing here.” Mrs. Insley added.
“Yes, that’s the truth. Since we only sent the forty steers last year, well...” Kate was stopped abruptly by a commotion in the yard.
“The men are here! Jonathan’s home!” Before Kate could even react,
Jo was out the door and barreling toward the wagon approaching from the north.
***
Kate stood and walked to the open door. The men were indeed home. A deep sigh of relief escaped her before she even realized how tense she had been anticipating their arrival. Jake Insley’s buckboard drawn by his two large blonde draft mares approached the main yard of the ranch. Her mare, still standing patiently at the corral gate whinnied a greeting, answered by the lead mare of the team. Jo had climbed the garden fence to gain a better view of the proceedings. Jonathan’s faithful cow dog, Smokey, followed the wagon at a brisk trot with his tongue lolling to the side and a happy grin on his face.
“Whoa, easy there Rosey; hold up there now, Ginny.” The wagon rolled to a stop between the house and the barn under the competent hands and gentle voice of Jake Insley. Jonathan jumped down from the high rough seat, as his grandfather set the hand brake. He held his jacket close to his side and a bit awkwardly, but Kate didn’t notice that. She was busy going over the stores and provisions visible in the wagon with a quick and calculating eye. Jake noticed her inventory, but remained quiet as he tended to the team.
“What did you see, Jon? What did you do? Was it fun? What’s Guthrie like? Did you bring me any candy this time?” Jo was relentless as she approached her only playmate. Though Jon was ten years her senior, he was patient and caring with her, and always had time for the little girl he thought of as his baby sister.
“Well, I s’pose you could call her Candy if you like,” he said slowly. “Hadn’t rightly thought of a name for her yet.” Jon shyly held out his faded gray coat to the little girl who looked at him curiously. Just then the coat wiggled, nearly jumping from the boy’s hands.
With a delighted squeal, Jo grabbed for the now squirming bundle and discovered a small fawn colored pup with four white feet. “Oh, Jonathan!” Jo gasped. Then she and the pup were sprawled together on the new spring grass, a jumble of flying paws and petticoats.