by Lisa Cooke
The only worry John had had about Ol’ Blue was the possibility he might be dead, but the responding thump of his tail when John also scratched his ear confirmed that the dog was indeed alive.
John followed Katie into the cabin where her grandfather and father sat by the fire, apparently doing nothing more than staring into the flames. A tiny old woman rocked near the hearth, her sharp eyes homing in on John as soon as he stepped into the room.
“Who’s he?” she asked, and John knew immediately he was about to meet the grandmother Katie had talked about.
“This is Dr. Keffer, Grandma. He walked me home.”
“Why?” Pa had stood and was now ambling toward the door, his expression showing disapproval of the situation.
John felt his anger rise. “Because she was attacked by a wolf this morning, and I didn’t want her walking back alone.”
“A wolf?” Grandpa jumped to his feet. Finally someone who was concerned about Katie. “Does that mean you ain’t fixin’ supper?”
“Would you like to know if she was injured?” John knew his tone was sarcastic, but the dragon slayer in him was coming to the surface again.
“I’m fine,” Katie said, pulling off her coat. “I just fell down when I ran away.”
Pa snorted. “I seen you was fine. That’s why I wasn’t worried.”
“I knew you shouldn’t be going in there,” Grandma said, as though to say, I told you so.
“And you ain’t going back tomorrow,” Pa added.
“I’m fine,” Katie repeated, but the limp in her walk made John wonder. “Dr. Keffer killed the wolf, so there’s no reason why I can’t continue to work for him.”
Grandma harrumphed. It was an impressive harrumph for such a tiny woman. “I can think of plenty of reasons why you shouldn’t be working there.” She raised her cane in a gesture John could only describe as threatening. “Randy, for one, wouldn’t want you workin’ there.”
“Who gives a fig about Randy?” Grandpa asked. “Harold’s the one we need to worry about.”
Grandma harrumphed again, but before she had a chance to argue back, Pa stepped in. “She’s going to marry Freddie. He’s a good boy.” He turned and pointed his finger at John. “She ain’t got no reason to be workin’ for you no more. Thank you for killin’ the wolf and walkin’ her home, but you can go now. She’s got supper to fix.”
Enough was enough. John took a deep breath in an attempt calm his temper, but it was too late. “Katie is a fine woman, and she can work for me any time she chooses, for as long as she chooses.” With that, he pointed his finger back at her pa. “If you had any sense of decency at all, you’d realize she’s had a hell of a day and you’d fix your own damn supper!”
He jerked open the door and stormed into the yard, hoping the wolf had a buddy. He had a strong need to strangle something right now.
“Dr. Keffer?” The sound of Katie’s voice stopped his storming. He turned slowly back to face her, preparing for the anger she was sure to throw at him. It wasn’t his place to raise his voice at her family like he had. But instead of anger, she seemed…pleased?
“I’ll be at work tomorrow.”
“If you need to take a day off because of your knee—”
She stopped him. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”
And he knew she would.
Chapter Fifteen
Where on earth John had found such an old mule was anybody’s guess. The wagon it was attached to wasn’t much better. Katie walked down the path from her cabin trying her best not to limp, but her knee had stiffened considerably during the night and hadn’t had a chance to loosen up yet.
Finding John waiting by the creek with a wagon was like finding a shiny new dollar lying on the road. Only it wasn’t new or shiny, just found. “I wasn’t aware you had a wagon, Dr. Keffer.”
“I didn’t until this morning.” He gestured toward the mule. “Meet Lightning.”
Katie giggled. “Lightning?”
“I didn’t name him,” he said with a slow shake of his head. “My purpose just seems to be trying to control the beast.”
Katie studied the mule a little more closely as John climbed from the wagon to help her to the seat. Large floppy ears drooping halfway down its head matched nicely with the eyes, half closed in sleep. Bony legs—at least there were four of them—held up a substantial potbelly, but the same could not be said for its back. The swayed spine of the animal made Katie wonder how it hadn’t folded in two while pulling the wagon.
She climbed into the seat, unable to hide her grin. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
“Don’t thank me yet. We may have to let Lightning ride part of the way while we pull the wagon. At this point, I’m not sure if the mule pulls the wagon or the wagon pushes the mule.”
Watching Lightning amble down the road, Katie had to agree with his assessment. “I hope he didn’t cost too much.”
“Actually, he’s just rented. I’m going to the stables today to see if I can find a more energetic animal.”
As though knowing he was being discussed, Lightning snorted and flipped his tail at the flies hovering over his rump, most choosing to ignore his feeble attempt to dislodge them.
They rode in silence for a few minutes before John finally said, “I’m sorry I yelled at your family last night.”
“They had it coming.”
“Yeah,” he said, flipping the reins against the mule’s back, as though it would make a difference, “but it still wasn’t my place.”
No, it wasn’t, but he was the first person who’d ever come to her defense who wasn’t a member of her family. Odd how it hadn’t made her mad. “They didn’t mean anything by it. They’re just not used to me going off on my own like this.”
“Do they expect you to stay there forever?”
Katie hadn’t thought about it before. Did they? Or maybe more importantly, did she? “I don’t know.” Which coincidently was the correct answer to both questions.
“Do you mind if I ask what you want?” John asked, with another flip of the reins.
“From what?”
“Life.”
What did she want from life? “I want what everyone wants, I suppose.”
“And what would that be?”
The answer seemed too obvious to state. “I want to be happy.”
He mulled over her answer for several moments before he asked, “And what would make you happy?”
“A healthy family, a warm home, and food on the table.”
The wagon wobbled over a rough place in the road, making noises that caused Katie to hold her breath for fear it would fall apart. She clutched the side of the seat to stay upright as he encouraged Lightning to keep going, her answer to his question still hanging.
But he’d opened the discussion, and it seemed only right he participate. “What would make you happy, Dr. Keffer?”
“What makes you think I’m not?”
The empty eyes, the distant stares, the reluctant smiles…“Nothing.”
Her tone must have said more than her response because he replied, “I’m not being fair, am I?”
“Not too.”
“Happiness would be simple for me, Miss Napier. All I need to be happy is to forget.”
She turned to face him. He kept his eyes forward, though she knew he had to be aware she was looking at him. Dare she ask? “What do you need to forget?”
“How to be sad.”
He’d intended his answer to be a joke, but it hit too close to the mark for any real humor to seep in. It came out, instead, ambiguous, perhaps cryptic, and even though part of him wanted to tell her everything, a bigger part didn’t want her to know. He was here to start a new life. If she knew about his failure, the past would always be his present. And the respect in Katie’s eyes would fade.
“Why are you sad?” she asked.
Now he’d done it. He couldn’t blame her for asking, having all but teased her with his answer. “I’m a widower. My daughter ha
s no mother, and sometimes it gets very lonely.” With a shrug and a forced smile, he added, “But then, I’m no different than many others, and this conversation has gotten maudlin. How are things going with your fiancés?”
Instead of immediately grabbing the segue, as he’d hoped, Katie remained silent for a few plop-plops of the mule’s hooves against the dirt road before finally answering his question. She entertained him with stories of her suitors, which led to stories of her family, which led to even more stories of some of the locals he’d met. By the time they’d arrived at his home, he realized that most of the time he was with Katie he forgot how to be sad.
“If you don’t mind going on up to the library,” he said, helping Katie from the wagon, “I have some errands to run.”
After waiting until Katie was inside, he bounded into the wagon to rush off for his tasks. Unfortunately, Lightning had other plans, so John settled for a plop-plop to the stables, where he learned that Lightning was the most energetic animal they had.
Another plop-plop had him at the telegraph office, where he sent a message to his shoemaker in New York. He’d made a point to notice the length of Katie’s foot against the floorboards in his office. He’d measured the distance as soon as she’d left, and he hoped that would be enough information for a new pair of boots. Next stop was Frank’s store.
“Mornin’, Doc,” Frank said as soon as the door quit jingling.
“Good morning, Frank.” John walked up to the wooden counter. “I need a pair of woolen stockings.”
Frank nodded and pulled a box of stockings from the shelf to place on the counter. “These ought to fit,” he said, lifting a pair of men’s stockings from the box.
“Actually, I need women’s stockings.”
Frank raised his brows. “How big is she?”
John held his hand out to indicate Katie’s height.
Frank nodded and returned the men’s socks to the shelf. “Is she portly?” he asked, his back to John as he read the boxes.
“Slender as a reed.”
“Is she pretty?”
“Beautiful.” John tried to bite back the word as soon as he realized it’d slipped out. Frank turned to face him with a knowing grin and a box of stockings.
“These should fit Katie just fine.”
There was no sense in trying to deny it. “She fell and tore hers and winter’s coming.”
“Yep,” Frank said, wrapping the stockings in paper.
“It was my fault.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Not that she fell, I mean, I didn’t trip her, but she was coming to work for me when she fell.” The more he talked, the more Frank’s grin spread across his face and the more ridiculous John felt. Clamping his mouth shut, he paid Frank and left the store with his stockings and a few chuckles from the men around the stove. Luckily, none of them were Katie’s fiancés. Yet.
If it weren’t for the need of flour, buttons, and such, Katie would gladly work for John without any more payment than the permission to borrow his books. Here she sat in the middle of hundreds of leatherbound, embossed volumes, none of which she’d read before. With the exception of the one currently clutched to her breasts.
Romeo and Juliet. With golden lettering on a tooled-leather cover, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it were autographed by Shakespeare himself. Fighting the guilt of taking a short break, she looked around the room with satisfaction. She’d accomplished quite a bit in John’s absence, though it would hurt his feelings if she pointed it out to him. Sometimes, it was almost as if he got in her way on purpose.
A little break wouldn’t hurt anything. Flipping open the book, she rushed immediately to her favorite scene. The first kiss of Romeo and Juliet always made her head swim and her heart patter.
“What’re you reading?” John stepped into the room, carrying a package and surprising Katie with his sudden question.
“Oh! I, um…” She gestured to the pile of books she’d already sorted. “I found this when going through the stack by the window and I—”
John interrupted her. “It’s all right, Miss Napier. You’re welcome to read anything in my library.” Glancing nervously at the package in his hand, he handed it toward her. “I hope these will fit.”
She set the book on his desk and reached for the parcel. Tugging at the string, she unwrapped the paper feeling foolish for the flutters in her stomach. A fine pair of woolen stockings, beautifully white and softer than anything she’d ever owned, lay inside the paper.
“I—I can’t accept these.” Though she wanted to so badly.
“I know it’s not proper, but I feel it’s my fault yours were ruined.”
Folding the paper back over the hose, she reached them toward him. “I fell running from a wolf. A wolf you killed, I might add. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Please, Miss Napier. No one need know I gave these to you, and it would make me feel much better about your injury. If you hadn’t been coming to work for me, you wouldn’t have been attacked.”
“I walk to town all the time—”
“What’s the harm?”
She didn’t know. She dropped her gaze to the package still clutched in her hands, convinced something had to be wrong with accepting them.
He must have sensed her hesitation. “Keep them for now, and if later you decide you don’t want them…I’ll do my best to convince you otherwise.”
She hadn’t expected him to add that, but before she could respond, he reached behind her to the book she’d been reading.
“Romeo and Juliet?”
She immediately regretted not closing the book. She regretted it even more when he began reading. “‘If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.’”
Katie’s face heated. John stood so closely to her, her skirts brushed against his pants leg. And he was talking about kisses. Not just any kisses. Romeo’s kisses.
“Come now, Miss Napier. Something tells me you know Juliet’s next line.” He sounded playful, teasing her about her knowledge of the scene.
She swallowed, determined not to make more of this than what it was. A challenge. That’s all. Little did he know this was her favorite scene, and she knew it by heart. “‘Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this: For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.’” She raised her open hand, palm toward him in a manner she’d imagined the actors doing onstage.
She was expecting his surprise with her knowledge of the scene. She wasn’t expecting him to place his palm against hers, and the warmth of his hand threatened to upstage Shakespeare when he said, “‘Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?’”
Heart pounding in her ears, she fought to ignore his touch and focus on her lines. “‘Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.’”
Still holding the book in one hand, he lifted his eyes to recite the rest without taking his gaze from hers. “‘O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.’” Slowly, he moved his fingers until they threaded between hers, and her mouth went dry. “‘They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.’”
“‘Saints do not move,’” she said, her voice now barely above a whisper, “‘though grant for prayers’ sake.’”
“‘Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.’” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “‘Thus from my lips,’” he whispered, leaning to within an inch of her mouth, “‘by yours, my sin is purged.’”
She felt his last words as he brushed them across her lips as softly as a butterfly’s wings.
“Daddy?” Julia said, twirling into the room. “Mrs. Adkins said it’s time for you to come to lunch.” She twirled back out, unaware of what she had interrupted.
But Katie was aware and based on the look on John’s face, not only was he aware, but he was as surprised as she was. “We’
ll be right there,” he answered, stepping back so quickly he bumped into the desk.
They both stood in silence, staring at the door, unable to speak until John finally said, “You’re quite an actress,” then smiled as though what had happened hadn’t happened. “Maybe you’ve missed your calling.”
Attempting a smile of her own, Katie replied, “You’re not bad yourself,” before she hurried from the room and to their awaiting lunch, which John ate with blazing speed before he excused himself to do a “little weeding” in the garden.
Grateful, though not fooled, Katie allowed herself to relax as soon as the door closed behind him.
“Katie?” Julia asked, poking at her potatoes as though to make sure they were dead. “Did you know my mommy?”
So much for relaxing. “No, sweetheart, I didn’t.”
Julia twisted her mouth in deep thought, her mind obviously trying to figure out how to approach her next statement. “Mommy went to heaven.”
“I know.”
Large blue eyes rolled up to Katie, a touch of fear in their depths. “Are you going to go to heaven too?”
“I hope to someday, but not for a good, good long time yet.”
Julia smiled, then directed her attention back to her lunch. It didn’t last long, though, before she laid down her fork and folded her hands on her lap. “I don’t remember my mommy very much,” she said, as though confessing a great sin.
Katie scooted her chair closer to Julia and wrapped her arm around her tiny shoulders.
“I was little when she went to heaven.” As if she weren’t little now.
“That’s all right,” Katie said, rubbing her shoulder. “I’m sure your mommy knows you love her.”
Julia nodded, though not with great conviction. “My nanny told me she got run over by a carriage. I wasn’t there, but Daddy was, and he held her while she went to sleep.”
“I’m sure he helped your mommy feel better.” Katie hoped her voice didn’t choke with tears. The image of John holding his wife in his arms while she died burned into her brain. It explained his sadness, but not his feelings of guilt.
