Rekindled

by Tamera Alexander

  “Yes, Miss Kathryn. I will. And you’ll always tell me the truth.”

  He said it with such conviction, Kathryn looked back at him. His blue eyes sparkled in the morning sun. “Yes, Gabe, I would. No matter what.”

  “Do you like being here at Casaroja, Miss Kathryn?”

  She smiled. Testing my honesty already, Lord? She set the broom aside and started beating the drapery lightly with a cushioned paddle. “No, Gabe, not really.” Dust plumed from the rich burgundy fabric, and she turned her face away. “I wish I were back at the cabin with my husband, but that’s not possible anymore. My life has changed in ways I wouldn’t have chosen, but I’m trusting that God sees all these changes and that somehow He’ll help me accept them, in time. He’s given me a safe place to live and good friends.” She placed a hand on her midsection. “And He’s given me this precious child.”

  Gabe’s look turned quizzical. “How do you trust so much in someone you’ve never seen, Miss Kathryn?”

  She stilled at the question. “The same way you do. The same way anyone does—by faith. And besides,” she added with a wink, “I have seen Him.” The boyish crinkle of Gabe’s forehead made her chuckle. “I’ve seen Him in you, Gabe. Now you’d better hurry up and eat your lunch and get back to work, or Jacob will come looking for you again.”

  Gabe grinned. “Do you know what Jacob did last night?” He stuffed his mouth with a piece of bread and cheese.

  “No, what did he do this time?” Kathryn played along, turning her face away from the dust. She could easily tell who Gabe’s new hero was.

  “Last night there was a mama cow trying to have a baby, except that baby was comin’ out all wrong. Jacob talked to her, right up in that mama’s ear where she could hear him. Then he reached up inside her and helped that calf come out the right way. You should come down and see it tonight.”

  “I’ll try and do that,” she said, wondering if Jacob would mind her being there. He seemed friendly enough last time, after he’d gotten past her seeing his scars. She wondered again how he’d gotten them. Despite the summer heat, he always wore a long-sleeved shirt and that same knit cap, and she couldn’t help but wonder what lay beneath.

  Jacob took his meals alone, so she didn’t see him unless Miss Maudie asked him to do something at the main house. Kathryn hadn’t been able to come up with a reason to visit the stables again, plus she was being extra careful not to be alone with any of the men. But thanks to Gabe, she had a proper chaperone now and a reason to visit. She looked at the big man sitting beneath the cottonwood tree eating his lunch. Thanks to Gabe, she had a lot of things.

  Physically, he was all man, but he possessed the heart of a child. She remembered when he’d appeared at her cabin door all those months ago. He’d scared her to death at first. But he’d been a good friend to her, and she owed him so much.

  “Gabe,” she said, laying her paddle aside, “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for all the things you did for me back at my ranch. I’m glad Matthew Taylor hired you and that you came to work for me when you did. I thought then that you were a gift straight from God, and I still do.”

  He smiled, shrugging as though he’d done nothing.

  “No, really, Gabe. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, please tell me.”

  He stopped chewing. “Does tomorrow count?”

  “Does tomorrow count for what?”

  “Would you do a favor for me tomorrow?”

  Kathryn picked up the broom and brushed away the lingering dust from the curtain panel. “Why don’t you tell me the favor first?” she said, smiling. She arched her back and rolled her shoulders to loosen the tight muscles.

  Gabe laughed. “I promise it’s something you’ll like, Miss Kathryn.”

  “Mm-hmm . . . I’ve heard that before.” She threw him a wink.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, Mrs. Jennings.”

  Kathryn turned at the high-pitched voice. “Oh . . . hello, Molly.”

  The kitchen maid curtsied and held out an envelope. “Mr. MacGregor asked me to deliver this to you, ma’am. Said for you to read it right away. I’m supposed to wait for your response.”

  As Kathryn took the note, she noticed Molly steal a quick look in Gabe’s direction. Oblivious, Gabe took another bite of cheese and then happened to look up. He smiled at Molly, who immediately dipped her head in response. But Kathryn could see the sudden color rising to her cheeks.

  Smiling to herself, Kathryn lifted the unsealed flap of the envelope and read the letter. Her face heated.

  Though she was glad to finally get a chance to meet with him about his offer, Donlyn MacGregor certainly wasn’t helping her situation any by asking her this way. She had little doubt the maid had already read the contents of the letter. Kathryn had quickly learned that Molly held a confidence like a sieve. Apparently Mr. MacGregor lacked that knowledge of this particular employee.

  “Molly, please tell Mr. MacGregor that I must decline having dinner with him as he requested, but that I’ll look forward to meeting with him later that evening.”

  The girl nodded, cast one last glance in Gabe’s direction, then turned and hurried back inside the house.

  Kathryn tossed a look back at Gabe and winked. “I see you’ve caught someone’s eye, Gabe.”

  He stood up and brushed the crumbs from his shirt. “The same could be said of you, Miss Kathryn.”

  But for once, he wasn’t smiling.

  Kathryn woke early the next morning to get ready for Gabe’s surprise. He wouldn’t tell her what it was, but thanks to Miss Maudie’s help the night before, she had everything ready. Plus, thanks to the woman’s generosity, she had four more black dresses from which to choose, each sensible enough for every day and with room enough to last her until the baby was born.

  Like she did every morning upon rising, Kathryn gave the music box key three full twists and set it on the side table. She sang along softly, pulling back the curtain from the open bedroom window to gain a view of the stables and eastern prairie. The sun crested the horizon and the last of the stars were quickly fading. Despite being July, a cool morning breeze blew in, carrying with it the scent of prairie grass and cattle.

  Kathryn closed her eyes and, for a moment, was back on their ranch. She could picture the cabin, the barn, the towering blue spruce and quivering aspen; she could hear the creek that ran behind the cabin and could even smell the pungent pine. A gentle wind lifted the hair from her shoulders, and she let herself imagine it was the soft brush of angel’s wings. Angels from on high, like the words of the song.

  She opened her eyes and spotted a rider coming in off the range. In dawn’s pinkish light, the horse’s hooves barely seemed to touch the ground as it flew across the open plains. The rider and mount moved as one. Kathryn remembered that feeling—freedom. Larson had taught her to ride like that, many years ago.

  The rider slowed the buckskin to a canter, then reined in while still a ways out. Dismounting, he stretched and rubbed his right thigh, then stroked the horse’s forehead. He loosely took the reins, and the horse followed. He wasn’t close enough yet for Kathryn to make out his face, but even at this distance she saw Jacob wasn’t wearing his glasses or his cap. His head was completely bald except for darker patches where it looked as if the hair had been shaved.

  Kathryn stepped back from the window as Jacob got closer. The tune from the music box slowed, as though struggling to reach the last few notes. As Jacob passed by, she heard the horse whinny, then Jacob’s soft whisper of a voice as he answered back. Curiosity begged her to take a closer look, but somehow she knew Jacob didn’t want her to see him like this, and respect for him outweighed the temptation.

  Half an hour later, a wagon pulled up outside the cottage. Kathryn laid aside the blanket she was knitting for the baby and looked out to see Gabe climbing down dressed in a crisp white shirt and brown trousers. She’d never seen him look so handsome.

  “Where on earth are we going this early in the morning?” s
he asked minutes later as they pulled onto the main road leading to town. “Miss Maudie and I fixed enough food for a small army, so I hope you’re hungry.”

  Gabe’s grin said he still wasn’t going to tell her their destination. He started to sing a hymn Kathryn knew, so she joined in. She hadn’t sung with anyone in years and found comfort in singing the hymns with Gabe now.

  “Okay, you pick one next,” he said a while later.

  “There’s one I know from my childhood. It’s not as fast paced, but let’s see if I can remember it.” She began singing, but Gabe didn’t join in. Kathryn stopped and elbowed him good-naturedly.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know the words. But I like hearing you sing, Miss Kathryn.”

  She smiled, then started again. “ ‘Father and friend, thy light, thy love, beaming through all thy works we see. Thy glory gilds the heavens above, and all the earth is full of thee.’ ”

  When Gabe turned to look at her, his eyes held a sheen. “Are there more words to that one?”

  Touched by his response, Kathryn closed her eyes. “‘Thy voice we hear, thy presence feel, while thou, too pure for mortal sight, enwrapt in clouds, invisible, reignest the Lord of life and light.’ ”

  She sang another verse and then let the silence settle around them. Gabe looked deep in thought, so Kathryn sat back, enjoying the sunshine on her face and the hint of secret on the breeze. Whatever Gabe had planned for her today couldn’t be more special than what he’d already given her. This was the lightest her heart had felt in—

  A spasm of pain gripped her midsection. She doubled over, clutching the buckboard for support. A cold sweat broke out over her body, and she squeezed her eyes tight, gasping.

  Gabe slowed the wagon and put a hand on her back. “Miss Kathryn, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” she finally managed, cautiously drawing in a deep breath. As swiftly as it came, the pain left. She leaned back and spread her hands on her belly, caressing her unborn child. “I think maybe it’s too much singing.” She forced a laugh and saw the seriousness in Gabe’s face.

  “Do you want to go back?”

  She laid a hand to his arm. “No, please, Gabe. Let’s go on, I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She blew her breath out slowly. “As long as you don’t have me running any three-legged races, I think I’ll make it.” But she decided to take it easy that day and not to overdo. It wasn’t worth risking the health of her child.

  When they reached the edge of town, Gabe guided the wagon to the road leading to the white church. “This is your surprise.”

  She looked at the seemingly empty building. “But it’s not even Sunday.”

  He smiled. “We’re early, but they’re having a schoolhouse raising right over there later this morning.” He pointed to a plot of land west of the church building, where stakes already marked the four corners and boards lay neatly stacked. “The women will be making lunch and quilting.” He shrugged. “I thought you might like that. But I figured you might go see Annabelle first.” His voice softened. “Then maybe spend some time with your husband.”

  Kathryn threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.

  Larson stood in the alley looking up at the two-story clapboard building. The flesh on his back prickled. His mind filled with the dazed look on his mother’s face as the man closed the door, then the acrid scent of the cheroot. He shook his head to break the memory’s hold.

  This was not the same place, and he was not that little boy any longer.

  He closed his eyes, trying to gather his nerve.

  Larson climbed the back stairs and knocked on the door. He waited a full minute and then knocked again. It was noon. Someone should be awake by now. Stepping back, he looked up at the row of windows on the second floor. He waited a few minutes, then as he turned to leave, he saw the curtain on the door move.

  The door opened a crack. “You need to come back tonight.” The young girl’s dark eyes quickly took in his face and his cap. She didn’t flinch. “We are not entertaining now.”

  She moved to shut the door, but Larson put a hand out. He guessed her to be about thirteen or fourteen. He’d like to think she was kitchen help, but he knew better. The combination of her youthful beauty and her smooth brown skin and almond eyes would be considered exotic, and some men paid extra if they were young. The thought still sickened him.

  “I’m not here to be entertained, miss. I’m here to find out about one of the girls who used to work here.”

  Suspicion flashed in her wide-set eyes.

  Larson pulled a few dollars from his pocket. “I just want to know if someone worked here before, that’s all,” he tried again, holding out the money. She reached for it, but he pulled it back slightly. “Answer first—then I pay.”

  The girl shook her head and started to close the door.

  He wedged his boot in the threshold. “Half now, the rest after.”

  She nodded and took the offered bills. “What do you call this girl?”

  “Her name is Kathryn, but she might have gone by another name.” Faint recognition registered in the girl’s eyes, and Larson waited for her to answer, but she only stared. Practiced nonchalance— he knew the look well. “Listen, I know she lived here because I saw her coming back here one night. I want to know if she worked here.”

  “I do not know this lady,” she said abruptly, pushing the money back through the crack. She slammed the door, and the lock clicked into place.

  Larson knocked again, already knowing the opportunity was lost. After picking up the loose bills, he made a trip to the mercantile for supplies before heading out of town. Still turning over in his mind what the girl had told him, he passed by the church and reined in.

  Wagons clustered in front of and behind the building. Beyond the cemetery, farther below in the clearing, a group of men worked together to set the skeleton of a wall into place. One group shouldered the wall higher while another group hoisted it by ropes. Blankets were spread on patches of prairie grass while children ran over and around them. A hive of women hovered around a makeshift table covered with so much food he couldn’t see the table top.

  As their high-pitched chatter rose to him, one woman in particular caught his eye.

  Sunlight shone off of Kathryn’s long blond hair as she walked toward the gathering. He retraced her steps and guessed she’d come from the cemetery. Did he dare think she’d been visiting his grave? The possibility touched him. Her form was getting fuller by the day it seemed, and she was more beautiful to him now than in all the years he’d known her. His mind suddenly flashed back to the last time he’d made love to her, and the experience was so clear in his memory that he ached with the wanting of it. With wanting her.

  Then he remembered their wedding night, the first time he’d ever known Kathryn in an intimate sense. She’d come to him pure and untainted, shy and unsure. And as he’d held her tenderly, loving her with experience, he had looked into her eyes and wished he’d shared her innocence. He would have liked to have given her that same gift, but his upbringing had left little chance of that.

  Kathryn hung back from the crowd of women gathered around the table, and Larson could almost feel her tension, her desire to be part of them. A dark-haired woman finally noticed her and walked up to take her hand. Larson felt a smile tug his mouth.

  “I do not know this lady,” the girl at the brothel had told him moments ago. “This lady.”

  The women in his mother’s brothel had always referred to each other as girls. The term lady was reserved for . . . well, just that. A lady. Could it be that—

  “We sure could use another pair of hands down there,” a man said beside him.

  Jerked back from his thoughts, Larson turned in the saddle.

  A youthful-looking man resembling Abraham Lincoln sat astride a piebald mare. Larson quickly placed him and tried to remember his daughter’s name. The little girl with violet eyes— Lilly.

  “I
’m Patrick Carlson.”

  Larson shook the preacher’s outstretched hand. “My name’s Jacob,” he said, hoping Carlson wouldn’t ask for a last name.

  “Well, Jacob, as I see it, you and I could head on down there, pound a few nails, maybe help raise a wall or two and then get fed like kings, all in a few hours time. Whadd’ya say?”

  Carlson smiled, and the first word that came to Larson’s mind was genuine. But still he hesitated. He glanced back to the gathering, running a hand along his freshly trimmed, if patchy, beard. He’d love to see Kathryn today, if only from afar. But was he up to being around all those other people?

  “One thing I like about this church is the people.” Carlson continued as though he’d never paused. “They’re fine folks. Friendly, generous, a bit sinful at times, but God hasn’t run out of forgiveness yet, so I guess we’re okay.”

  Larson detected the gleam in the man’s eyes and smiled. “Maybe there’s a job that needs doing on the side somewhere, a ways from the crowd?”

  “Sawing boards sounds good to me, and that’s a two-man job. You up for it?” At Larson’s nod, he pointed to a pile of boards off to the right of where the men were working.

  “Thank you,” Larson said quietly.

  “Don’t thank me yet. Save that for when you taste Lilly’s blackberry pie. She’s been asking about you. Our Lilly never forgets a fa—” Carlson stopped suddenly and his chest fell. “Jacob, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that . . .”

  Eying the younger man beside him, Larson slowly removed his glasses, hoping Carlson would see his sincerity. “Any chance your wife has some of her coffee made? That tasted mighty good that morning.”

  Carlson held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. He leaned over and gripped Larson by the shoulder. “Hannah’s coffee is like God’s grace. It’s always good and it never runs out. I’ll grab us some and meet you over there in a minute.”

  Kathryn spooned a piece of blackberry pie onto the boy’s plate and laughed at the grin splitting his face.