None the worse for wear? What a choice of words. It was, she knew, an exercise in futility, but Kate sent her mother a stern stare. "Mamma, stop it!"
Hank slapped his wet hat on the side of his pants. "Morning, Belle."
Mamma was backing toward the door. "I just remembered, I have to help Cody. Would you excuse me, please?"
"Mamma, don't you dare." Before the words were out of Kate's mouth, Belle had slipped through the back door, and pulled it shut behind her.
"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Kate took another cup from the cabinet.
"Black," Hank snapped as he hung his hat on a peg by the door.
"Do you want to sit down?"
The jingle of spurs sounded as he walked cross the floor and pulled out a chair.
Kate poured coffee. "Is it still raining outside?"
"No." Hank's voice snapped with anger.
"Are you sure you don't care for cream or sugar, or maybe both?"
"Yes." He took a tiny sip of hot coffee.
Hank didn't intend to let her off the hook. "Would you like a biscuit? They're still warm."
"I would like you to sit down, and stop beating the devil around the stump."
That was plain enough. Kate sat down across from him. "There is no sugar in the bowl. Mamma used it all. I need sugar."
"Damn it, Kate, sit down." The anger in Hank's voice argued for instant obedience.
"I am sitting." She may as well get this over and done. "I'm sorry I didn't make my ride Sunday. We couldn't get home."
Hank picked his cup up, then sat it down. "We, being you and Taylor. Harriet and Elroy stayed in San Antonio over the weekend. They didn't start back to Rio Medina until early Sunday morning."
"How do you know that?" Understanding came slowly. Hank and Gina must have spent the weekend at the hotel too. Kate was set to tell Hank that she and York were not alone, the housekeeper was present, and that they had slept in separate rooms, when full realization dawned. Hank had spent the weekend with Gina! Who was he to question her behavior? "You and Gina spent the week end in San Antonio?"
"We could hardly start home in a driving rain storm. But that's beside the point. You could have asked Taylor's foreman to call me." Hank's voice was merciless. "Why didn't you?"
"I forgot." Kate hastened to explain, "The telephone lines were down all Saturday night. When we finally got through, all I could think of was how worried Mamma would be if she went to St. Agnes, and I wasn't on the bus." Kate lifted her hands, then let them fall back into her lap. "I was afraid York's foreman wouldn't get here before Mamma and Cody left for St. Agnes. The ride slipped my mind."
Hank finished his coffee in one long drink, then slammed the cup down on the table. "Do you know what I think, Kate? I think you got so wrapped up in that bastard Taylor that you forgot about your job, your mamma, and everything else."
Anger nudged in around Kate's feeling of contrition. "My personal life is not your concern. I said I was sorry."
"Well, sorry is not good enough. We lost a calf while you were off cavorting around with Taylor." Hank slammed his fist down on the table. "This is the second time you've failed to live up to your end of our bargain. If this happens one more time, our deal is off."
Fear shot through Kate, like a bolt of lightening. She couldn't let that happen. For the first time she realized how desperately she needed this job. "I won't fail to make the ride again." She wanted to cry, but she was not about to give Hank that satisfaction.
"See that you don't," came his harsh rejoinder.
How could she have been so stupid? She should have kept her relationship with Hank on a professional basis, and she hadn't. Once again, Kate had let her feelings for this man make a fool of her. "You have a legitimate complaint. But since you won't accept my apology, I see no point in continuing this conversation." It took every ounce of her self control to keep the tears in her heart from finding their way into her eyes. "Good-bye Hank."
Her cool dismissal didn't phase him. Why was she surprised? Hadn't she been warned he was a cold, heartless man?
"You can make the ride twice a week after calving season." He could have been speaking to a complete stranger. "But until further notice, I expect you to make the ride, and to report every day." He stood, towering over her, tall and threatening. "I won't accept any more excuses."
Why did she feel as if her heart might break? "I won't make any." She rushed from the room, leaving Hank to find his own way out.
With tears blinding her eyes, Kate stumbled to her room, and fell across the bed crying as if her heart might break.
The fear that Belle might find her, weeping her heart out, caused Kate to stop her crying, and sit up on the side of the bed. Perhaps this had happened for the best. As things stood before, she and Hank were set on a collision course. He would have kept inviting her to go to bed with him, and as attracted to him as she was to him, eventually, she would have let him make love to her. As sweet and wonderful as that might be, it could only lead to disaster. She had learned a valuable lesson, don't mix business with your personal life. In the future, she would work toward establishing a good working relationship with Hank, but nothing more.
Kate wiped her eyes with the tail of her shirt. This partnership was her lifeline. Without it she had no hope of ever turning Paradise into a profitable ranching enterprise. She couldn't afford to jeopardize her agreement with Hankby not keeping her end of the bargain.
"Kate? Where are you?" Mamma must have been watching for Hank to go. Maybe she had been listening too.
"In here," Kate wiped the last tear away.
"I told you Hank was furious." Belle leaned against the door facing. "So he thinks you've been cavorting. Have you?"
"Mamma, you listened. And I don't care what Hank thinks."
"Is that why you were crying like your heart would break?" Belle sat down on the bed beside her daughter. "Hank didn't mean what he said, Kate. He's jealous."
"It's not jealousy, Mamma." Hindsight brought knowledge. "Hank thinks York succeeded where he failed, and his macho male ego has been damaged."
"And we both know nobody is going to succeed until you get over Jim." Belle carefully avoided her daughter's surprised stare.
"I am over Jim."
"Are you Kate?" Belle's voice softened to a whisper.
"You don't believe me. Why Mamma?"
"Old habits are hard to break, even bad old habits."
"I'm not going back to Jim, Mamma." Why couldn't her mother believe that?
"I know that, Kate." Belle's eyes filled with tears."I'm not talking about going back to him, I'm talking about getting over him."
"I am over him, Mamma." It broke her heart to see her mother cry.
"Is that why you refuse to let another man get close to you?"
Kate couldn't tell anyone why she shunned any close physical relationship with a man. How do you confess, even to your own mother, that you are no good in bed? "Give me a little time, Mamma."
As unusual, Belle went for the jugular. "Are you that afraid of failure?"
And, for once, Kate did not evade the truth. "Yes, Mamma, I am."
Dropping her hand to the bed, Belle smoothed the wrinkles in the spread with the palm of her hand. "Remember, Katie what you told me about starting over being no more than letting go?"
Kate dropped her head. "I remember, Mamma."
"If you ever hope to find out who you are, you have to let go of what you thought you were because Jim told you that's what you were. Jim's image of you has nothing to do with the real Kate."
As convoluted as the statement was, it brought comfort and consolation. It even made some sense. "Thank you, Mamma. You've given me something to think about while I ride today."
The next few days, Kate forced herself to do a great deal of thinking, not only about what Belle had said to her, but about why Hank had been so angry with her. The more she pondered over past events, the more entangled she became in the mesh of her own uncertainty.
"Kate." Cody's voice sounded from outside the barn.
"I'm in here, Cody." Kate tossed the saddle across Ringo's back.
Cody came to stand beside the stall. "Belle and I are going to St. Agnes. Belle says is there anything you want from town?"
Kate gave her saddle cinch one last tug. "No thanks, Cody."
"Kate?" Cody's voice was hesitant.
"Yes?" Kate led Ringo from his stall.
"I know I'm hitting on a sore spot, but I don't think you should ride today."
"And have Hank fire me? No thanks."
Cody shook his head. "I know how hard Hank is to please these days. He's like a bear with a sore head. But I rode this horse less than a week ago. I had a tough time keeping him in line. He's scared to death of thunder and lightening."
"It's not raining, or thundering, or lightening, Cody." Kate patted Ringo's head. "See, he's gentle as a lamb. You sound like Mamma, going around looking for something to worry about."
Cody would not be placated. "There's a big cloud bank in the west, and the forecast says rain. Ask Hank to get one of his boys to make the ride, if it's that important."
Kate hated to be so uncompromising, when she knew Cody was concerned for her well being, but she had no choice. "I can't do that, Cody."
"Then get someone to ride with you. The weather report predicts rain. I don't think you should ride around this big spread alone in weather like this."
"Are you joking? Hank would have my head, and my job if I even suggested such a thing." Kate laughed, but she didn't feel at all humorous. "I've made that ride at least fifty times."
"I don't think it's a good idea, Kate."
"I have to go, Cody." Kate began to lead Ringo toward the door.
Cody followed after her, muttering as he went. "You're a stubborn woman, Kate McClure."
Kate mounted Ringo, and with a wave of her hand, rode north. Facing a coming storm was preferable to facing an angry Hank if she failed to make her ride, and her report. She might even spend the day riding the range. Mamma and Cody would be gone until late afternoon.
Giving Ringo a nudge in his flanks, she rode north, in the direction of the line shack.
The dark bank of clouds broke, and floated toward the southern horizon, spreading cobweb wisps across the sky. Kate patted Ringo's neck, hoping to reassure him, and herself. "The clouds are breaking away, that means the weather is clearing."
The countryside was a wonderland of soggy splendor. Mexican doves swooped from the underbrush, crying into the morning air their sorrowful message of, "No hope, no hope."
Reveling in their languishing lament, Kate veered toward the north pasture.
From nowhere, and without the slightest warning, a loud clap of thunder boomed into the silent air. Seconds later a jagged bolt of lightening darted from the sky and skipped across the ground not two hundred feet in front of Kate.
Ringo's nostrils flared. His head went up, and he reared on his hind legs.
Kate yanked the reins toward her, as the frightened animal shied to one side, and whinnied, like a frightened child.
Momentary panic caused Kate to grab for control as she patted Ringo's neck. "Whoa, Boy, Whoa." Frantically, she sought to calm the spooked animal.
Black clouds began to churn and boil across the sky. A whining wind rose up to protest in bursts and gusts that shook the soggy underbrush. The sun was swallowed up in the unexpected darkness that fell, like a final curtain, over the country side. Huge drops of rain began to slap into the soaked ground.
She couldn't be more than a half mile to the line shack. Kate fought the panic that spiraled inside her, as she dug her heels into Ringo's sides, and urged him to a trot.
A mighty clap of thunder rolled across the heavens, booming and echoing like the beat of a massive drum. Jagged fists of lightening reached from the angry clouds, and danced fingers of pointed light across the wet ground. The wind exploded! Sheets of rain began to descend from the heavens as if the explosion had ripped a seam in the universe.
The spooked horse galloped wildly across the open countryside. Kate hung on for dear life as rain pelted her back, and beat at her face, A frenzy of fear knotted in her stomach. Holding on, she fought to stay in the saddle. Ringo was a runaway. Stopping him now was an impossibility. All she could do was try to stay on his back.
Then, in one suspended moment, Ringo stopped, raised his front feet, and pawed the air, as another flash of lightening leaped from the sky, and jumped across the horizon before vaulting back into the rolling clouds.
Kate spilled backward over the horse's rump, and, with a bone shaking blow, struck the muddy ground. A searing pain split her head. Dazed and shaken, she scrambled to a sitting position in time to see Ringo dash madly away.
The pain in her head knifed behind her eyes, and exploded inside her brain as blackness descended, blotting out consciousness.
Stirring from the darkness, Kate sat up, and ran her hands across her throbbing head. The rain had stopped. A weak sun shot rays from behind billowy clouds. The earth around her was a quagmire of muck and mud that clung tenaciously to her boots, her jeans, even her hands and her hair.
She tried to rise, and found that was a mistake. A hammer was beating behind her temples, and her head felt as if it might split like an overripe melon. How long she had been unconscious? The sun had begun its westerly descent. Belle and Cody would be home by now.
From behind, Kate heard the clip-clop of horses hooves beating into the muddy earth. She turned to stare in the direction of the sound. "Oh, damn." She dropped her aching head into her muddy hands.
Riding toward her, mounted on Diablo, leading Ringo, and scowling furiously, was Hank Sinclair. "Oh, Lord," Kate moaned, "now there will be hell to pay." She would never hear the last of this. Maybe she should roll over and play dead.
"Kate, Are you all right?" Hank slid from his horse, and sloshed through the mud toward the wet, bedraggled, figure huddled on the soaked ground.
Pain drummed through Kate's neck, as she slowly raised her aching head. "Do I look all right?"
Hank knelt beside her, and began to explore her head with shaking fingers. "God, I was scared. When I saw Ringo standing by the gate, I knew something had happened to you."
"Your powers of deduction are amazing. I'm soaked to the skin, my head feels like it might burst open, my backside is one big bruise, I sat on a cactus. How observant of you to suspect something had happened to me."
Sheer relief sounded in Hank's laughter. His lips brushed across her forehead, as he lifted her into his arms, and began to walk toward his horse. "I see your mouth and your temper are still intact."
Each step he took sent a little pain shooting through Kate's head. "Put me down, you middle-aged Lothario. Do you want to get a hernia?"
"You do know how to make a man feel virile." Hank sat Kate in Diablo's saddle, then put his foot in the stirrup.
"I can ride Ringo," Kate protested, as Hank settled behind her.
"Shut up and sit still, Kate." Hank hooked Ringo's reins over one wrist. "You're in no condition to ride. Do you know you could have been killed?"
Kate shivered. "You Simon Legree. You're the one who told me to make this ride in the first place."
"Be quiet, Kate, I have to get you to the line shack, and out of these wet clothes. Maybe you can think of a few more names to call me once we get there, but for now kindly shut up." Hank pointed Diablo in the direction of the line shack. Ringo trotted along behind.
Kate rubbed her hands along her arms. "I'm freezing. I want to go home. I need a bath."
Hank dismounted, tied the horses, and lifted Kate from Diablo's back. With one swing off his leg, he kicked the shack door open. "What you need is a wallop on your backside. You knew better than to ride a horse
in an electrical storm."
"Put me down! Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like I was a juvenile delinquent?" Kate could feel her temper slipping away.
Hank walked toward the bed, his spurs jingling. "You are heavy enough to give me a hernia." He tossed her on the bed. "Get those wet clothes off before you catch pneumonia, and I lose a good cow hand."
"With you standing there staring at me?" Kate folded her grubby hands across her mud-streaked shirt. "Not on your life, cowboy."
Coming down on the bed beside her, Hank began to unbutton Kate's shirt. "You are one stubborn woman."
Furiously, she slapped his hands away. "What the hell do you think you are doing, you, you..."
"Running out of names, Kate? Try boss." Hank's stony glance was calculated to stare her into submission. "Get out of those wet clothes."
Kate stood and felt water squeeze from her boots, and seep into her soaked socks. "Get out of my way. I'm going home."
A strong arm shot out and grabbed her. "You are going to do exactly as I say. Get those clothes off."
Kate's wicked temper ignited. "You can't tell me what to do. Get out of my way!" Doubling her hand into a hard little fist, she swung at Hank's chin.
He caught her hand, just in time. "Damn you Kate, no woman takes a swing at me, and gets away with it. Get those wet clothes off, or so help me, I'll take them off for you!"
Anger lifted Kate's chin, flew banners of color in her cheeks. "You wouldn't dare."
A mocking smile creased Hank's weather-beaten face. "Take off the wet clothes, and use the water in that can to wash up, or I'll strip you myself, and scrub you down with a corn cob. I feel responsible for you. It's my fault you went out to ride in the rain."
A niggling voice in the back of Kate's head sent out little warning signals. Hank was feeling more than a little guilty. Maybe she should do as he asked. "You have to go outside. I can't undress in front of you." A cold chill ran through her body, making her realize the wisdom of Hank's request, no Hank's order. "Go on, get out of here."
His mocking smile degenerated into a belly laugh. "Why? You are not exactly the picture of feminine allure. There's mud in your hair, dirt on your face, and your clothes are filthy. It's raining again. I know enough to come in out of the rain even if you don't."
Barri Bryan - Return to Paradise.html Page 22
