Not the Marrying Kind (7 page)

Why, indeed!

“I had to,” she admitted. “Those were the
terms Pa offered. But I won’t fail, Emily. I guarantee you, I won’t
fail.”

“Pa says he’s going to sabotage you. I’m not
sure what that means, but it sounded awfully serious, and—”

“Sabotage!” Of all the nerve. What sort of
dirty tricks did Pa have up his sleeve? How dare he make such an
outrageous deal, all the while planning to
sabotage
her. It
gave Kat all the incentive she needed. Under no circumstances would
she allow him to best her. No matter what she had to do or how hard
she had to work, she would come through on
her
end.

She sucked in a deep breath, managed to calm
herself, and put on her brightest smile.

“Thanks, Emily,” she said, shooing the
little girl off her bed. “You’d better get back to your own room
before Mama catches you.”

“Yeah, I suppose. And don’t worry, Kat,” the
little girl said, grinning as she stopped at the door. “I won’t
tell anybody I saw you prancing around, checking your titties in
the mirror.”

“Emily Sue!” Kat didn’t know if she should
laugh, cry, paddle her
observant
little sister, or just
throw up her hands and forget it. The latter seemed the best
course.

She turned toward the mirror again.
Titties?

Now where had little Emily ever heard a word
like that?

As Kat stepped inside the little wood-framed
church the next morning, she kept her head bowed, not from any deep
religious feeling coming over her, but as a way of avoiding eye
contact with Virgil Kendrick. He must have been watching for her
family. He swooped down from the pulpit where he’d been preparing
for the morning service and came directly toward Kat.

“You’re looking lovely this morning, as
always,” he said. “As are you, Mrs. Phillips.” He nodded first at
Kat’s mother, then exchanged glances with her father. Kat thought
she caught a quick nod pass between the two men.

But then her father turned away and gestured
toward the pew where they usually sat. “Come on now, ladies,” he
said. “Let’s not dilly-dally around.” He stood at the end, waiting
as first Emily Sue, then Kat, and finally his wife took their
seats. He gave another curt nod toward the minister, but said
nothing more.

Kendrick looked a bit nonplussed, and little
wonder why. Usually Dirk Phillips had a lot to say. His silence
that morning confused Kat, too. When she turned toward him, he
quickly averted his gaze. Was that a look of guilt upon his
face?

As for Reverend Kendrick, his pathetic,
pleading expression left Kat feeling nauseated. No doubt he was
hoping his suit had been accepted and was waiting for her father to
give him the good news. It seemed almost cruel to ignore him.

Kat leaned forward, reached around her
mother, and tapped her father to get his attention.

“You need to tell him.” She mouthed the
words and pointed toward the somber man in his stiff, white
clerical collar.

Her mother pushed Kat’s hand away. “Stop
that. You know how impolite it is to point, Katherine Ann. Now,
settle down. Church is about to start.”

“It’s not going to start as long as he’s
standing there.” She pointed again at Reverend Kendrick. “Pa needs
to tell him that I’m not—”

“Hush, Katherine.” Her father’s voice rose
up, drowning out her quiet words. Red-faced, he turned toward the
other worshipers. “Sorry, folks.” He turned toward his wife and two
daughters with a stern countenance, then settled back against the
hard pew. He clasped his hands in his lap and stared straight
ahead.

Reverend Kendrick cast one last, longing
look in Kat’s direction, then strode toward the lectern.

Throughout the service, the minister
continued to gaze toward Kat, unabashed desire gleaming in his
narrow, beady eyes. He drew his sermon from Paul’s second letter to
the Corinthians, speaking of finding heavenly treasures in earthen
vessels, and all the while Kat fidgeted on the hard pew, aware of
people whispering and looking her way. Mama was right, she
realized. It was awfully rude to point, but that sure didn’t keep a
lot of those very Christian ladies from aiming their gnarled
fingers in her direction.

Gossip sure did get about fast, and somebody
must have caught wind of Kendrick’s proposal. She glared toward her
father. But he couldn’t have been the one spreading rumors. Until
this morning, he hadn’t left the house in weeks.

She doubted Mama would have discussed such a
personal matter with anyone, which left only Reverend Kendrick
himself. Or Emily Sue. She turned toward her sister.

“Did you say anything to anybody about him
wanting to marry me?”

Emily’s face turned pale. “Nobody said it
was a secret.”

“But you know I’m not going to do it, Emily.
Telling tales like that’s almost the same as spreading lies. The
devil will get you for that.”

Mama heaved a very audible sigh. “Girls, if
you’re going to argue, go outside.”

“We’re not arguing,” Emily said, closing her
arms across her chest.

“Yes, we are.” Kat jumped to her feet,
jerked Emily Sue up, too, and all but dragged her out from the pew,
down the aisle, and through the front door. As soon as they were
outside, she gave the little brat a well-deserved shake. “How dare
you, Emily! If we weren’t here at church in front of God and
everybody, I swear, I’d turn you over my knee and paddle you so
hard you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week.”

“But I didn’t tell on purpose.” She
sniffled. “Mrs. Wilkes asked me how I felt about it, that’s all.
She wanted to know if I was excited, and I told her there wasn’t
anything to get excited about.”

Kat kept a tight hold on her sister’s arms.
Probably Emily was telling the truth. Mrs. Wilkes kept house for
the reverend and was always getting into his business, as well as
everybody else’s. It would be just like her to try to pin Emily
down and wheedle information from her.

“But you did tell her that I wasn’t going to
marry him, right?” Might even be a good thing if Emily had set the
woman straight.

Emily sniffled again. “I told her you didn’t
want to marry him.”

“Good.”

“But I also told her you had to marry him,
whether you wanted to or not.”

Kat’s mouth dropped open. “You told her
what?” Realizing the implications of her sister’s careless words,
she covered her face with her hands. She very nearly cried. More
and more lately, she’d found herself on the verge of tears, and she
didn’t like it. Not one bit. Silly, lovestruck women cried. She was
not one of
those
.

Too embarrassed to set foot inside the
church again, Kat turned toward home and started walking.

“What are you doing?” Emily cried out,
racing after her older sister.

“What does it look like? I’m salvaging
what’s left of my pride.” She made a
harrumphing
sound
nearly as good as the ones Pa made.

“Mama says it’s a sin to be prideful. A
woman’s supposed to be humble and submissive.”

“You don’t even know what those words mean,
Emily. As for me, I’d rather go to hell than submit to some
self-righteous ass.” Without further ado, she turned on her heel
and began the long walk home.

"But, Kat, what about your class?"

Each week, Kat taught a group of children
after the regular service ended. She sang songs with them about the
Lord and His love, recited simple scriptures, and showed them how
to kneel and pray. But not today.

She spoke not a word...just kept on
marching.

Pa caught up with her an hour later.
Services that morning must have been awful short, Kat guessed. As
the family’s horse-drawn buggy rolled up alongside her, she kept
her eyes on the road ahead, refusing to look at her mother, father,
or sister.

“Don’t suppose it would do much good to ask
you to get in.” Pa’s voice wasn’t as strong as it had once been,
but his words were clear.

“Nope. Wouldn’t do a bit of good,” she
replied.

"Suit yourself."

The buggy passed by. Nobody looked back. Kat
saw her pa flick the reins over the horse’s rump. She sighed and
covered her mouth with her hand to keep from choking on the dust
stirred up. Damn her and her own stubbornness. She’d actually
expected Pa to climb down, find a switch from a sapling tree, and
insist she get back into the buggy where she belonged.

Guess he was tired of fooling with her and
didn’t mean to put up with any more nonsense.

“So be it,” she said aloud, staring after
the buggy as it disappeared around the next bend in the road.

If her pa thought he could wear her down,
maybe even break her, he had another think coming. His own
obstinacy only made her more determined. Maybe he had something up
his sleeve, but his tricks didn’t worry Kat. Nothing could
undermine hard work and honest efforts. Whatever he was up to, it
didn’t matter. She meant to succeed.

* * * *

Monday morning dawned clear and bright, an
obvious good omen for the coming day. Not that Kat believed in
omens—something about that word always made her think of the devil
and his tricks—but she did believe in signs, especially heavenly
ones. When she was a very young girl one of the previous ministers
at the church, long before Virgil Kendrick had come to lead their
little flock, preached about the sin of looking for signs. Mankind
wasn’t supposed to go around asking for verifications for their
decisions. Actions were to come from faith alone.

It didn’t make much sense to her then. It
still didn’t make much sense. A loving God would surely provide a
few signposts along the way, wouldn’t He? If one of his daughters
felt unsure of which direction to turn, wouldn’t any loving father
provide help?

Kat frowned as she threw the saddle over
Sadie’s back, her mood irrevocably spoiled by thoughts of her
pa.

Sabotage
.

An ugly word if she’d ever heard one, and in
her time hanging around with the hands at the Rocking P, she’d
heard plenty of words—good, bad, and ugly, indeed.

“I’m not letting him get away with it,” she
said in a quiet voice. Silly though it might sound, talking to
Sadie always soothed her. Maybe it was because the pretty palomino
never talked back, never disagreed, never tried to change Kat’s way
of thinking. The horse whinnied softly, and nuzzled her soft, warm
nose against her owner’s shoulder. “All right, girl,” Kat said,
tightening the cinch strap then patting Sadie’s neck. “Let’s get to
work. We’ve got a tough job ahead of us.”

When she saw Joshua riding toward her, she
straightened in the saddle, waved her hat in the air, and called
out to him.

“Nice morning,” he said, tipping his own hat
in greeting.

“We don’t have time to talk about the
weather, Mr. Barron, and if you’d ever worked a cattle ranch
before, you’d know that.”

“Sorry, missy, but—”

“That’s another thing,” she snapped, her
eyes narrowing on him as though she were bringing him into the
sights of a shotgun. “Either call me Kat, or keep your mouth
shut.”

“Fine. Call me Joshua.”

He left off any admonitions about keeping
her
mouth shut, Kat noticed. Maybe she had been a touch
rude.

“Sorry. I’ve got a lot of things on my mind,
running this ranch being only one of them.” How much should she
tell him? Did he need to know about Reverend Kendrick, about Pa’s
desires to marry her off to the lackluster minister, about Emily
Sue’s claims of
sabotage?

“Yes, Miss Kat, I imagine you do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She
bristled, taken aback by his unexpected friendliness and his
willingness to agree with her. She was accustomed to men who took
charge, stated their own opinions, and rarely paid any mind to what
a woman said.

“With your father feeling poorly and all,
I’d say you’ve got a heap of responsibility placed upon your
shoulders.”

“Right, I do.” She lifted the reins,
grateful for the familiar feel of the worn leather against her
fingers. “I figured we’d spend the morning getting you acquainted
with the ranch.”

“Sounds like a good place to start.”

She eyed his long legs, remembering his
awkward, limping gait.

“You’re able to ride without that leg
bothering you, I hope,” she said with a slight nod of her head.

“I’ll manage, don’t you worry about
that.”

If nothing else, she liked the man’s
confidence. “All right, let’s head out. Just stay close to me
today.”

For the next hour, they rode side-by-side.
Now and then Kat pointed out a feature of the land, and
occasionally Joshua raised a question. He seemed interested in
learning all he could about the ranch. Another sign, Kat thought. A
good sign, in her opinion. She could trust this man, could count on
him to fulfill his responsibilities.

“You need to understand exactly what we’re
doing here,” she told him, “and why we’re doing it.”

“You’ve got a beef contract to fulfill,
correct?”

“That’s right. I suppose my pa told you all
about it.”

“He gave me a little information, yes, but I
don’t know all the particulars.”

“We’ve got fifty beeves due for delivery to
the reservation at month end. They’re scattered about the land
right now,” she explained with a sweeping gesture. “Over the next
week, our job will be to locate the fattest steers, round them into
a holding pen, and then when the time comes, we’ll drive the herd
to the corral, check them over, and move them on to the
reservation.”

“Won’t be easy.”

“No, it won’t, but we’ll get the job
done.”

“Just the two of us?” He appeared skeptical.
His brows knitted together, and he cocked his head slightly.

Kat laughed, amused as much by his
expression as by his words. “No, I’ll hire a few extra hands for
the drive, but, until then,” she added, “yes, it’s just the two of
us.”