Saturday's Child Read online

  Quentin strode across the yard, gesturing for Katie to come down off the steps as he and Angus shook hands. She moved to his side, feeling as shy as a child at a party. Quentin put his arm about her waist, his pride obvious to their visitors, if not to Katie herself.

  "Katie, this is Angus Campbell and his wife, Louise. They're our nearest neighbors, about fifteen miles to the east. This is my wife, Katie."

  "Pleased to meet you," Katie said slowly.

  "Well, I can tell you that Louise is more than pleased to meet you," Angus said, reaching out to take her hand and shaking it with the same enthusiasm he seemed to show for everything.

  "She's been nagging at me ever since we heard Quentin had brought himself home a wife. This is the first chance we've had to get away. I must say, if I'd known how pretty you were, I might have made it a point to get here a little sooner. Pretty as a prairie flower, you are."

  "Leave the girl alone, Angus. Can't you see you're embarrassing her." Louise shifted her stocky husband aside, taking Katie's hand more gently, her faded blue eyes kind. "But he is right that I've been anxious to meet you, my dear. There are few enough womenfolk out here. It will be nice having a woman so close."

  "I'm very pleased to meet you. I was beginning to think no one else lived in Wyoming. We haven't had any visitors."

  "Well, you'll have a few this summer. Once the spring work is over, we manage to get in a bit of visiting. Not as much as you're used to in the city, but a bit. Folks out here tend to be pretty friendly. There's few enough of us that we don't get on one another's nerves."

  "So, what do you think of her, Quentin?" Both women turned as Angus patted the front of the bright car with the same fondness he might have shown for a child. "She's a Pope-Toledo, made just last year. Got her in Denver for hardly more than a song from a fellow who'd just bought himself a brand new Daimler. Wife said two cars was an extravagance so he sold me this one.

  "Had it shipped to Laramie by rail and just picked it up two weeks ago. She's a mighty fine piece of equipment. Mighty fine."

  "A song," Louise snorted. "Cost every penny of two thousand dollars and can't do as much as a four-bit horse. A toy, that's what it is, Angus Campbell. It's a toy."

  Angus was not visibly dashed by her scolding tone. "She won't admit to it but she enjoys it almost as much as I do. I've been trying to talk her into taking a trip in it, maybe all the way across the country. Couple of fellas did it two years ago in a Packard. New York to San Francisco in fifty-two days."

  "It looks like a fine automobile, Angus," Quentin said, circling the vehicle slowly. "But it doesn't seem very practical. If it gets stuck in mud, you've got to have a horse to pull you out. Seems easier just to take a horse to start with."

  "You wait, they'll be the wave of the future. Won't be very long before horses are a thing of the past."

  "Maybe in the cities," Quentin agreed. "But I think there'll always be a use for a horse in the country."

  "Let's leave the two of them to their talk about that silly machine and go into the house and have a comfortable coze," Louise suggested.

  "Will you be staying for supper?" Katie asked as they climbed the steps.

  "We'd take it kindly. It's a long trip back and I'd not like to do it on an empty stomach."

  Later, when she had time to think about it, Katie was surprised to remember the instant kinship she'd felt with Louise Campbell. Maybe it was the similarity of their situations—both women isolated in a land that seemed more suited to the male of the species. Or maybe it was the warmth that Louise seemed to radiate.

  Whatever it was, within a matter of minutes, Katie felt as if she'd known the older woman for years. They worked together comfortably in the kitchen, preparing supper, which was suddenly-a festive meal. Louise had brought pies and some of her special chokecherry jelly.

  There was so much talk and laughter at the table that it didn't seem as if anyone even noticed the food but the men certainly devoured plenty of it. Some of the talk was about what was happening in the world beyond Laramie.

  J. Martin had ridden Agile to victory in the Kentucky Derby. President Roosevelt had visited Colorado only a month before, hunting bear. It was beginning to look as though the Russians had lost their war with Japan. Admiral Togo had destroyed their last hopes in the Strait of Tsushima. Now President Roosevelt was trying to negotiate peace between the two nations.

  Angus felt that it was best if the United States kept to herself—"No need to go interfering in the rest of the world's business," he said. "If they want to go to hell in a handbasket, that is certainly their privilege." Quentin argued that, if the United States was going to be a world power as the war with Spain had certainly proven, then certain responsibilities went with it.

  But most of the talk centered around the ranch: how the grass looked this year, whether or not next winter was likely to be a bad one. There was only one uncomfortable moment and that was when the talk turned to the ever-present conflict of sheep versus cattle.

  "I say we ought to lynch the lot of them," Angus declared angrily. "Damn sheep come in and ruin the range so it's not fit for a jackrabbit to live on. And they stink."

  "Cattle are hardly sweetly scented," Quentin said mildly. "And there's a lot of land, enough I suspect for all of us."

  "There ain't never been enough land for cattle and sheep to exist side by side. You mark my words, there ain't never going to be enough land. Damn sheep-herders ought to be run out of the state before they do more damage."

  "Remember what happened a few years ago when Tom Horn tried it, Angus. He got himself hanged for it. Times are changing. The days of cattle ranchers being able to ride roughshod over everyone around them are over. Like it or not, we're going to have to learn to live with the sheepherders."

  "Well, I don't like it. I still say, if we'd just all get together, we could run them out, lock, stock and barrel."

  "You'd have to count me out of anything like that, Angus." Quentin spoke quietly, but there was an undercurrent of steel in his words. "We don't own this land. All of us are grazing on government land. You can't run people off land that doesn't belong to you."

  There was an uncomfortable silence, which Louise broke by standing up and announcing that it was time for dessert. It didn't take long for the earlier atmosphere to be reestablished, but Katie remembered the scene. She'd been proud of Quentin for stating his case so calmly. She didn't understand the details of the conflict but she had utter confidence that her husband was in the right.

  After the meal, the gathering moved outside. Some of the hands started a game of horseshoes and Quentin and Angus were soon pitching the heavy shoes, arguing good-naturedly over the scores. Louise and Katie sat on the porch, Katie with a pair of socks she was knitting for Quentin to occupy her hands and Louise piecing together scraps of fabric to form a quilt square.

  "Around harvest time, we usually have a quiltin' bee or two," Louise said, her eyes on her work. "There's a bunch of us and we usually manage to get quite a bit done in amongst the gossip, which is the real reason we get together."

  "I'm afraid I don't know how to quilt," Katie admitted.

  "Ain't nothing to it. Simplest thing in the world. You just sketch out your design, if you're of a mind to do something fancy. All it takes is a few scraps and an eye for puttin' them together."

  Katie doubted that it was that simple, but she watched the pieces coming together under Louise's fingers and decided it was something she could teach herself, what with her stitching skills. It would be nice to have a quilt she'd made herself for their bed. And for the child she was nearly sure she carried.

  "I tell you, Quentin, that horse is a killer." Angus and Quentin had left the horseshoes to the hands and spent some time down by the corral. Now they settled themselves on the shady steps, accepting big glasses of iced lemonade from their wives.

  "There's nothing can be done with a horse like that," Angus continued. " 'Cept shoot him or geld him, begging your pardon, ladies."
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  "He's too valuable to do either," Quentin said, leaning back against a post. "If I can get his bloodlines into my stock, I'll be able to get top dollar for his foals."

  Katie looked over their heads to the golden stallion who paced the perimeter of his corral, tossing his head in their direction as if he knew they were talking about him. The play of muscles under tawny hide and the sunlight catching in paler mane and tail made him seem like an exquisite statue come to life.

  "He's not so bad," she said without thinking. "He's just a little cranky."

  "Cranky?" Angus turned to look at her, his shaggy brows almost meeting his hairline. "That horse darn near took my arm off the one time I tried to ride him. That's why I sold him to Quentin, here. I'm not going to have a vicious animal on the place."

  "He's not vicious," Katie said firmly. "He just needs attention."

  "The only attention that animal needs is a bullet between the eyes," Angus muttered before taking a deep swallow of his lemonade.

  "I don't quite agree with Angus," Quentin said, turning to look at Katie.' 'But don't go getting the idea in your head that Laredo is just misunderstood. Some animals are rogues and there's nothing that can be done to change that. You give him a wide berth, Katie. If you offer him a sugar cube, he's likely to take your hand along with it."

  Katie shrugged, turning her attention back to her knitting. It gave her a pleasant feeling to hear Quentin sounding concerned over her safety. She could hardly spoil the moment by telling him that she'd already reached an understanding with the big horse.

  There were so many days when she thought she'd surely go mad if she didn't have someone to talk to and the stallion had proved an undemanding audience. She could lean on the top rail of the corral fence and say anything that came to mind.

  At first, he'd stayed on the other side of the corral, watching her warily, convinced this was some human trick to get a rope around his neck. But when nothing happened, he'd eventually gone back to his business.

  Katie had started setting sugar cubes on top of the rail, feeling that if he had to listen to her rambling, he deserved a reward. It had been nearly a week before he'd come take the sugar while she was still there, but he'd finally decided she wasn't dangerous.

  She'd yet to touch him but she didn't doubt that the day would come when he'd let her lay her hand on that beautiful neck of his. Time enough to tell Quentin then. In the meantime she just basked in the concern he was showing. It made her feel almost loved.

  Chapter 10

  June 1905

  Dear Katie,

  I know I should have written before now for I have important news for you. But before I get to that, I want to tell you how much I've enjoyed your letters.

  I graduated from Mrs. Lutmiller's Academy of Typewriting and Essential Office Skills only last month and have been able to put my diploma to use. I am employed in a secretarial capacity by the manager of Stevenson's Emporium. I find I enjoy the work very much, certainly a great deal more than working at the Sterlings'.

  They, by the way, had a terrible fight with old Mr. MacNamara. I'm not quite sure of the details but it seems that Mr. Sterling had suggested that he might forbid your Quentin to enter the house again.

  Mr. MacNamara, on hearing this, hit the dinner table with his fist and said that, as long as his money was supporting the household, he would be the one to decide who would be welcome and who would not be.

  I had this information from Mary, who was serving dinner that night, for I had already left their employ for reasons I shall tell you presently.

  Anyway, Mr. MacNamara said that he felt Quentin had made a fine choice in marrying you and that you were both welcome in his house any time you cared to visit. Mrs. Sterling fainted and had to be carried up to her room, though Mary told me privately that she believes Mrs. Sterling to have softened her attitude and thinks she would welcome the two of you.

  With that out of the way, perhaps I should tell you my news, which involves my reason for leaving the Sterling household even before I had received my diploma.

  I know you will be surprised to hear that I have wed. You will recall that I had on several occasions spoken slightingly of the institution of marriage and hinted that it was not for me. How the mighty are fallen, I confess.

  But perhaps the biggest surprise of all will be when I tell you whom I have married. I know I had mentioned to you previously that I have seen your brother on several occasions.

  Only a few weeks ago, he took me to the Chutes, where we saw Mr. Charles Rigney perform his high dive, saw a reenactment of the Johnstown Flood and rode in the Circle Swing. It was quite an exciting night for me, though perhaps not as thrilling to you, since you are more familiar with things theatrical than I.

  What all this is leading up to, as you can perhaps guess, is that Colin and I are wed. Only a week past, we went to Oakland, which some are saying is the Gretna Green of California and were married. My parents had forbid the match, not approving of Colin's employment at the Rearing Stallion.

  Once the deed was done and they saw how happy I am, they forgave us and welcomed him into the family. The next day, Colin found employment at the Grand Opera House on Mission Street. He said that he would not be dictated to, but he, naturally, did not wish to cause his new inlaws any concern. I believe it amused my father greatly.

  You are perhaps shocked that I should still be employed, now that I am a married lady like yourself. I will be honest and admit that Colin would rather I did not work, but I have talked him 'round by pointing out that my income will help us to put aside money for a little house, such as we both long to have.

  I must use my maiden name, of course, and remove my wedding ring before arriving at the office, for I am certain they would never employ a married woman, feeling it unseemly for a female in such a position to hold employment outside the house.

  I am very happy to be your sister in marriage, Katie dear. And I hope you will forgive us our unseemly haste. I'm sure you know that, once your brother's mind is decided, he sees no reason to hesitate before taking action.

  He asks me to send you his affection and best wishes and the hope that we will all be together again soon.

  Yours,

  Edith

  ❧

  Katie folded the letter slowly and slipped it back into the envelope. She was hardly surprised by Edith's news. She'd almost expected it. Each letter had contained some mention of Colin. And even in the one letter her uncommunicative brother had written, he'd mentioned Edith.

  As she often did when she had something to think out, she found her footsteps leading her in the direction of the corral. Laredo studied her a moment before walking over to the fence where she stood.

  "Hello. You want your sugar, do you?" Katie dug in the pocket of her apron and set the sugar on the fence next to her. She'd not yet ventured to feed him directly from her hand, though she thought it was safe enough to do so. She stroked his neck while he crunched the treat between his teeth, snuffling at the rail to see if he'd missed any tidbits. She laughed softly.

  "Greedy." He turned to look at her, eyes wary, but he didn't move away.

  Colin married. She was happy for him. And for Edith, but the news made her feel slightly melancholy, too. They'd married for love. With little money, only dreams for prospects, they'd married for the most foolish reason of all. How she envied them that.

  She sighed, her hand stilling on the stallion's neck. It wasn't that she regretted her marriage to Quentin. He was all that was good and kind. But she sometimes felt as if there were a wall built around him, a wall he wouldn't let her cross to get any closer.

  "Maybe when he lost his Alice, he truly lost his heart. Maybe he'll never love again." Laredo ducked his head as if in agreement and then trotted off.

  Katie stared at him without seeing. Could she bear it if Quentin was never more than the slightly affectionate companion he was now? The only place she felt as if he truly belonged to her was in the privacy of their bed. There,
she felt no ghosts, no walls. But there had to be more to a marriage than that.

  Quentin had said he wanted to build something good and fine. Well, she wanted that, too. But part of what she wanted to build was a strong bond between them, one that would survive any challenge they might face. And she couldn't do that alone. Her palm flattened against her stomach.

  Would the child she was now sure she carried provide her with the means to forge that bond? Surely, he couldn't keep her at a distance while she was carrying his child, perhaps a son to carry on his dream.

  "You haven't been getting too close to that devil, have you?"

  She jumped, spinning around so quickly she had to clutch at the fence to keep her balance. She'd been so absorbed in her thoughts, she hadn't even heard Quentin ride into the yard. He sat on the bay pony just a few feet away, lean and relaxed in the saddle.

  "What are you doing here in the middle of the day?" she questioned, surprise making her voice breathless.

  "We found a bunch of cattle in one of the canyons. There's some calves among them who managed to avoid the spring branding. I didn't think they needed me." He nodded to where the golden stallion paced at the far side of the corral, eyeing Quentin with deep suspicion. "You haven't been getting too close to that horse, have you?"

  Katie glanced over her shoulder as if she didn't know which horse he might be talking about.

  "I've kept a safe distance," she said, choosing her words carefully, knowing that his idea of a safe distance and hers might be somewhat different.

  "What are you doing down here, anyway?" Quentin swung his leg over the saddle and slid to the ground, leaving the pony ground-hitched as he crossed the short distance between them and leaned on the rail next to her.

  "I come down and talk to Laredo, sometimes," she admitted, feeling rather foolish. "He's more interesting than the chickens, and the milk cow is holding a grudge for my clumsy attempts at learning to milk."

  Quentin laughed, the lines around his eyes deepening in a way that made her long to kiss them.