Providence

by Karen Noland

  ***

  Nana was still working in the kitchen when Kate came through the back door. Glancing up, she saw the pained look on Kate’s weary face.

  They worked together in companionable silence for a few minutes before Nana took a good long look at Kate. “That man Johnson ask you to marry him?”

  Kate flushed bright red, “How did you know?”

  “A woman’s been around as long as me knows these things. What’d you tell him?”

  “I didn’t tell him anything,” she cried, “I couldn’t! I was in shock, and now he thinks he can court me.” The tears she had fought all day began to trickle down her cheeks. “Now Jake is mad at me, I feel so lost. Oh, Nana, what am I going to do?” Kate didn’t often call her Nana, it was always Mrs. Insley, until she needed her mother, only then did she break down and call the woman by the childhood endearment.

  The older woman sighed and sat down near the fire. Patting the bench beside her, she whispered, “come here, dear.”

  Kate walked over and sank to her knees, putting her head in Nana’s lap. The feeling was safe and warm. She thought of her own mother, and the comfort she always sought in her wisdom. I miss you, momma. I need you so much. Nana stroked the girl’s soft hair for a moment, letting her find the solace she needed before continuing. “Jake’s not mad, you know. He’s just gonna let you find your way in this.”

  Kate sniffed, staring into the flickering flames, as the sun set and the shadows lengthened in the quiet room.

  “Search your heart, girl, God will place the answers there. Listen for His voice, you’ll hear it.” Saying no more, she bent and placed a tender kiss on Kate’s cheek. Taking the girl’s face in both of her small worn hands she searched her eyes. Seemingly satisfied, she nodded. Rising, she packed her few things away in her basket and headed toward the front door.

  “What in the world?” came the exclamation as Nana opened the living room door to the front porch. Jake, heading over form the barn heard her cry and hurried around to the front, while Kate came from the kitchen.

  There on the front steps was a haunch of venison, smoked and cured, laying on a length of clean muslin. Nearby Kate noticed a small colorful bunch of wild flowers tied with a leather thong and a hawk’s feather. She smiled tenderly picking up the bouquet. “Tochoway,” she whispered, searching the gathering darkness for any trace of the tall dark man.

  “Tochoway? You mean that savage was back here?” Nana sounded mortified. “I don’t like the idea of savages sneakin’ around here when we’re not home!”

  Jake looked at his dear little wife, “Would you rather they were sneakin’ around here while we were home?” he asked, eyes twinkling.

  Nana gave him baleful look.

  ***

  Tochoway sat on his pony watching the family return from Fallis. He saw the stranger on the gray horse. A strong man, that was good. He watched as the women entered the house, and the men went to the barn. Still he waited. His eyes riveted on Kate as she carried a large bundle from the house. He smiled as she paused to watch the horses. Tochoway believed the horse was a special spirit for Kate. The Great Father’s creation was not limited to man. Did not the very rocks and trees echo His existence? How much more so, then the living, breathing animals He gave life to? The Great Father made all creatures, and to some He gave the gift of communion; Kate’s was the horse, just as his was the hawk.

  The evening stretched on, it was nearly dark and he was growing weary when his token was finally discovered. He saw Kate pick up the flowers. Would she know the healing properties of each? He hoped the significance would not be lost on her. As her fingers ran lightly over the hawk’s feather and her eyes scanned the horizon searching for him, he was satisfied. Raising his hand in peace, he turned his pony and rode into the night.

  ***

  Kate sat on the edge of her bed, her Bible clutched tightly in her hands. Emotions raged through her heart. So many changes had occurred in just one day, she couldn’t grasp the significance of any of them fully. Closing her eyes she tried to pray, but the voices in her head would not be stilled. Standing, she drifted to the window, and looked out over the land. She opened the curtains and raised the pane letting the cool night air rush in. The sheer cotton nightgown she wore billowed gracefully about her as the wind filled it like the sails of a great ship. Breathing deeply of the cleansing breeze, she willed her mind to peaceful repose. Turning her eyes upon the Lord, she finally managed to still the fears within her.

  Returning to the bed she sat upon it and let her Bible fall open. She smiled. It had been years since she had chosen to read at random like this. She had tried to order her reading like she managed the rest of her life. Strictly reading passages that she knew, or finding the ones she believed applied to a certain situation. She remembered how her mother had once shown her to open the Book, and blindly point to scripture at random. So many times those verses held more meaning than those she would laboriously track down.

  Closing her eyes she placed her hand upon a page, stopping midway down. She opened her eyes and began reading from the Book of Psalms, Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed. Delight thyself also in the Lord; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. She smiled softly. What a beautiful promise. The Bible was filled with God’s promises.

  Trust in the Lord. She stared out the open window, the land stretched as far as she could see. She did trust in the Lord, and the land was provided. Could she be the kind of steward the Lord would have her to be? They continued to be fed and provided for. Trust.

  Delight thyself in the Lord. But what were the desires of her heart? Jo’s smiling face danced before her mind’s eye. She smiled. Suddenly, an image of Luke appeared in her mind, but behind him were dark and soulful eyes shimmering in the distance as though seen through a fog. She frowned. What about Luke?

  A hawk screeched in the night, breaking the spell. The air flowing through the window was turning colder. She rose and closed the window, turned out the lamp, and went to bed secure and peaceful in God’s loving promises.

  ***

  Luke unpacked his few belongings from the saddlebags. He put the farrier tools in the chest at the foot of the bunk he had chosen. There were hooks on the wall above the bed to hang his clothes and his chaps. The straw filled tick already lay soft and inviting on the rough frame, and he covered it with a muslin sheet and dark wool blanket. He threw a couple of books on the bed The other cowboys he had worked with weren’t much for reading, but he still enjoyed good literature, and he continued to carry a book or two, trading them for new ones whenever he could. Not everything his father had tried to instill in him had gone to waste, he thought ruefully.

  Picking up his razor and a few other personal items, he carried them to the washstand. Jonathan had filled the pitcher with fresh water before leaving for the night. Opening the door on the front of the stand he reached in to stash his belongings. As he dropped the things, his hand bumped an object already there. Curious, he pulled out a book. He turned it over and realized that it was a Bible. The word was intricately scrolled across the front in fading gold leaf. The leather cover was worn, and the pages fragile from use.

  In his mind’s eye he saw his father standing in his pulpit reading from just such a Bible every Sunday. The stern commands and fiery words casting fear through Luke’s young mind. Later, when Pa had sent him to seminary, the Bible had taken on different proportions and meanings. He had dutifully studied the Word, finding in it an interesting history, and useful narratives, but he never found the deep, abiding love that others found there.

  Rising, he glanced out the window into the quiet moonlit night. Something caught his eye, looking again, he realized that a light was on in the main house, and a figure stood silhouetted at the window. He watched as she opened the pane and the breeze caught her white gown, blowing it against her. Loose brown hair blew softly across her face obscuring her features. He watched in stunned silence fo
r a moment before averting his eyes and closing the curtains.

  Who was this woman he now worked for? He knew only what Martha had told him. Kate Shaughnessey was widowed a few months back, running the small ranch by herself, she needed steady help, and hadn’t been able to find any. Martha said that Kate was too proud to ask for much, and she had alluded to some trouble brewing with one of the other ranchers in the area, but nothing specific.

  The woman he met in Fallis today was obviously strong and independent, not something he generally preferred in women, but it seemed to suit her. He sensed a strong undercurrent of emotion that was just below the surface, something she kept a tight rein on. After she had returned from her meeting with Johnson, she had grown hard and cold. Was Matt Johnson the man causing trouble?

  Tossing the Bible onto the bed with his other books, he vowed to see this woman and her wonderful family safely through the fall market before he would leave Providence. He heard a hawk calling in the night, a haunting sound as though its heart were breaking.

  Chapter seven

  The sun was already peeking through the lace curtains when Kate’s eyes opened. “Oh no!” she cried jumping out of bed. She could already hear Nana banging pots around in the kitchen. “How did it get so late?” She must have slept half way through morning chores. Pulling on a pair of trousers and a clean cotton shirt, she tucked it in quickly and cinched up the leather belt. She stuffed her feet quickly into wool socks and a pair of old leather boots that had seen far better days, but were oh so comfortable, and dashed out to the kitchen.

  “Oh, Mrs. Insley, I’m so sorry. I didn’t have the fire going or anything,” she apologized.

  “No mind. I’ve done it myself. Hurry off and get those horses tended to before the men have to do it all themselves.”

  “I’ll hurry!” Kate replied slapping the old felt hat down over her loose curls and grabbing her jacket from the peg by the door.

  She reached the barn in time to see Jake beginning to pitch the hay into Raven’s manger. A stab of guilt shot through her. “Jake, I’m sorry I’m late. Give me that. I’ll finish the horses.”

  “You’re taking to sleeping in as late as my Jon!” he grinned. “No need to worry. Between Luke and I we got ‘bout all the chores done already.”

  Luke! In her rush this morning, she had nearly forgotten about the new hand. Looking around the dim barn, she saw him watching one of her mares in the foaling stall. Pitching the hay to Raven and giving him a quick pat, she walked over to the foaling stall.

  Jake was busy hitching his mares to the plow, while Jonathan milked the jersey cows they kept for milk and butter. The rest of the morning’s chores had already been finished, leaving Kate feeling quite guilty and almost useless for a moment.

  ***

  Luke did a double take as Kate entered the barn. It was the first time he had ever seen a woman dressed in men’s clothing. He had to admit, with those curls floating around her face beneath that old dusty hat, she was actually quite charming, but it would sure take some getting used to.

  “She’s due next week, but since she started bagging early, I brought her up last Friday.” Kate offered quietly coming to stand next to him.

  “Has she waxed?”

  “Haven’t checked yet today, but she hadn’t yesterday morning.” Kate answered, opening the stall gate. She ran a hand down the dun mare’s golden side. Feeling the life within moving lazily, she smiled a radiant smile. Luke realized that it was the first time he had seen her smile. It lit up her entire face, giving her a simple childlike glow that he found hard to resist. He found himself wondering if she would ever smile at him in just that way.

  Reaching lower, she felt the mare’s udder. It was full and swollen, dripping a creamy looking milk. “No wax, but she’s milking, should be soon.”

  “Do you want me to keep an eye on her tonight?”

  Kate looked up as though she had forgotten that he was standing there. “You don’t mind?”

  “Naw, I’m right next door,” he laughed.

  “You’ve foaled out a mare?”

  “A few.”

  “Well, it would set my mind to ease some,” she agreed. “I’ve been a little worried about how big she is this time. I can’t afford to lose one.”

  “Has she had any problems in the past?”

  “No, and this is her third foal, but I still worry. Next to Gypsy, this is my favorite mare.” She stroked the horse’s nose as she spoke, and the mare placed her head on Kate’s shoulder. Sighing, she opened the stall door and stepped out, closing it gently behind her.

  Luke watched her appreciatively. She definitely had a way with horses, and spoke as naturally about them as any man. She didn’t blush or use euphemisms when discussing the intimate details of foaling, as most women would.

  “I thought we could saddle up and I’ll take you on a tour of the ranch after breakfast. That way we can discuss your duties, and you’ll have a chance to see some of the operation here.” Kate said as she walked to the tack room.

  “Sounds good.”

  Grabbing a leather halter and lead, Kate headed out to the pasture that served the remuda. Luke noticed about a dozen horses here, bays, duns, sorrels and even a couple of buckskins and one palomino. All were sleek, well-muscled horses. He watched as Kate whistled and a sorrel mare lifted her head from the grass. Seeing her mistress, she trotted over to the pasture fence. Kate slipped through the fence, haltered the mare and led her through the gate, and into the barn.

  “This is Gypsy, the one I use most. She’s a good old girl.” Grabbing a saddle and blanket from the tack room, Kate swung them up over the horse’s back in a fluid motion, settling the blanket first and cinching the saddle up quickly. “Most of the older horses in the remuda are broke to ride. We use the mares as well as the geldings. A mare has to prove their worth around here before we use them as breeding stock. Mares with foals or about to foal are out in the far pasture. The two year olds in there aren’t broke yet, but you can ride any of the older ones that you want.”

  “Think I’ll stick with Rio for now until I’ve had a chance to look them over.”

  “Suit yourself,” she said busy with her own horse. Finding a pick from the wooden box hung on the wall, she bent to lift the mare’s front hoof.

  “Here, let me do that for you.”

  “Thank you, no! I’m perfectly capable of doing this for myself.” Kate snapped.

  “Sorry.” Luke scowled at the rebuff and strode off to find Rio and ready him for the day’s work.

  ***

  Kate set the mare’s hoof down. Why had she been so rude? He was only offering to help. She watched him leave the barn. Sighing, she finished her chores, and joined the men on the way to the house for breakfast.

  Jo and Mrs. Insley had a grand breakfast laid out for the hungry men and Kate. The plank table groaned beneath the weight of platters heaped with scrambled eggs, sausage links, biscuits, butter, jams and even pancakes. Jake let out a low whistle, and Jon’s lower jaw dropped in surprise. Nana didn’t usually set out such a fare every morning. Jo was dressed and sitting at the table waiting when they entered.

  “Good morning, Mr. Luke, look what we made for you!” Jo glowed.

  “My, my, it does look delicious!” Luke’s eyes twinkled merrily at the little girl.

  “Yes, doesn’t it?” Kate asked raising her eyebrows at Nana.

  “Man should have a good start here, and he looks a might thin to me,” was the acerbic response.

  “Well, what are we waiting for?” asked Jon as he took his seat.

  “You sit here by me, Mr. Luke,” Jo bubbled indicating the seat next to her on the bench.

  They all took their places, and joined hands for the blessing. Jo reached for Luke’s hand, and he took it, slowly reaching for Kate’s across the table. She reached out, and gave him an apologetic smile as she began the blessing. “Dear Lord, we thank you for what we are about to receive, and Lord we offer our thanks for Your bringing this
good man into our lives. We ask that you bless and protect each and every one of us as we face the day ahead, and ask that You will bring us together again safely this evening. Lord, forgive us of our sins, and keep us in the center of Your will. Lead us to do those things that you would have us to do. It is in the name of Jesus we pray, Amen.”

  “Amen,” was murmured around the table, though Kate noticed that Luke did not join in. Perhaps he was shy.

  Plates were passed and piled with food, steaming mugs of coffee were poured. Smokey and Candy dashed in the open door looking for any scraps that may have fallen, and the conversation was bright and lively. Kate surveyed the scene with a sense of calm assurance that she hadn’t felt in months.

  “How many head are you running out here?” Luke asked amid the commotion, startling Kate from her reverie.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “How many head are you running? I figure now’s as good a time as any to figure out where I’m going to be needed.”

  “Well, It’s a pretty small operation. I’ve got about eighty-five head of momma cows and about seventy of those have calves at their side now and another eight or so should calve here any time.” She creased her brow, for a moment with a distant look on her face. “I think there’s about fifty head of three year old steers coming ready for market this fall, and another eighty yearlings and two year olds.”

  “Have you branded the calves yet?”

  “No,” Kate sighed. Branding was a time she was dreading. “I’m waiting for the rest to calve, and I’m just not sure that I’m up to it alone. Will and the hands always saw to the largest part of that. I suppose I’ve just been putting off the inevitable.”

  “Well, I can see one of the first things will be an accurate count, branding and castrating the calves.” Luke said in a very matter of fact tone.

  “That takes an entire crew!” Kate cried.

  “It has to be done. You know that as well as I do.” Luke took a sip of the coffee, and thought for a minute. “What about Lars Jansen and some of the men from Fallis?”