Providence

by Karen Noland

  “Yes, Luke and Jonathan are already up there,” she replied. “Would you like some biscuits and bacon or a cup of coffee?” Kate couldn’t help smiling at the man. She had always liked Mike and Greta Hall and all their children. Theirs was a home filled with love and laughter and boundless energy.

  “Yes, ma’am, a cup of coffee would just about do me right,” he smiled.

  “How about you, Jeffery?” Kate asked the quiet young man riding beside his father.

  “Yes, ma’am, and could I have a splash of cream, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble to ya?” he asked ingenuously.

  “Of course you can,” Kate smiled.

  Kate and Greta entered the kitchen and returned with two steaming tin mugs, one with a splash of cream. The men took their coffee and rode on to the pens, ready for the day’s work.

  “He sure is growing into a fine young man. How old is he now, thirteen?” Kate asked.

  Greta nodded as she watched her husband and their son ride off. “And Aaron is sixteen, and needs to be off to work himself. Where did he get to?”

  “I think he’s in the kitchen eating a bite,” Kate replied. “Will he need a horse to use today?”

  “I don’t think so. I believe they plan to let Jeffery and Aaron switch off on that old brown mare.” Greta said as they walked up the steps into the kitchen.

  Aaron and Ross sat at the table devouring biscuits with jam and thick slices of bacon. The older son was an image of his father with black hair and dark eyes in a clear, open face. The younger boy, Ross, was more like his mother and sister, blond and soft spoken. At only nine, he would be staying with the younger children and women today, though he was pleading earnestly with his older brother to be allowed to help with the branding.

  Overhearing her son, Greta chided, “Now, Ross, you know what your father said, perhaps next year. For now, I’ll need your help down here. It’s just as important a job as any other.”

  “Awww, but Ma!”

  “Ross, I’ll bet Jake could use your help with the roasting today. He thought he’d have to do it all himself, but I’m sure he’d welcome a strong worker like you!” Kate offered.

  “Really?” he asked, eyes shining.

  “Really,” Kate replied. “Why don’t you run out there now. He’s got the fire just started, I’m sure he’ll have plenty to keep you busy.”

  Ross jumped up and ran outside as Greta shot a grateful smile at Kate.

  “Are the Kellys here yet?” Aaron asked.

  “No, you’re the first to arrive, but I expect they’ll be along soon.” Kate said, glancing out the window as a buggy and two more riders appeared on the hill. “There’s Lars and Martha now, and it looks like Bert Hanneman with them.”

  “You just get your hide on up to work. The Kellys will be here soon enough.” Greta prodded her recalcitrant son in the side.

  “Yes’m, I’m going.”

  “What’s that all about?” Kate asked puzzled.

  “Ruth Kelly, “ came the terse reply.

  “Oh,” Kate said with a knowing smile. Ruth was the Kelly’s sixteen-year-old daughter, who as Kate recalled, was blooming into a striking young woman.

  “I’ve already got one grandchild on the way, I’m not needin’ any more right now.”

  “You do? You mean Michael married?” The Hall’s eldest son had left the farm a few years earlier.

  “Yes, and in a hurry, too, that baby’ll be here ‘fore I know it.”

  “Is he still running the store in Kingfisher?”

  “Yes, and doing a right good job with it, too. He bought old man Huckaby out, and Michael is the proprietor now,” Greta said with a note of pride in her voice.

  “You must miss him, being so far away,” Kate said wistfully, wondering how she would respond when the time came for Jo to leave her.

  “Oh, I do, but he’s a grown man now, making his own way. He never did like the farm life much, but he’s found his calling in town.”

  “So, who did he marry? Anyone I know?”

  “Oh, no, she seems a right nice girl, though. She’s from down south of here, little town called Rush Springs. I’ve only met her once. She’s tall, quiet -- stately I guess you’d call it, but she takes real good care of my Michael, and that’s a good thing.” Greta said.

  “Hello, everyone!” Martha breezed in, depositing a crate filled with food on the already laden table. “I’ve sent the men on up to get a job done, and I’m ready to work. Where do I start, Mrs. Insley?”

  “Well, it’s about time somebody was ready to work around here, rather than jest stand around jawing all morning!” Nana replied, handing Martha an apron and a pan of beans to snap.

  “Oh, guess we’ve been caught out,” Greta said with a twinkle in her eye. “What do you want us to do?”

  “I’ll need that big table set in the yard, but you’re in no shape to be totin’ that.”

  “Greta, why don’t you snap these beans? Martha and I can see to the table,” Kate decided, taking the pan and apron and handing them to Greta.

  “Hey! How come I have to do the hard work?” Martha protested laughingly.

  “Well, I could give you the dish rag, but it looks like Kathy has that well under control,” Kate retorted. The pretty blonde girl blushed and ducked her head back to the dishes piled before her. “C’mon, let’s get that done before the real heat sets in.”

  They headed out to the yard, where they were met by the Kelly’s wagon pulling in. Jim Kelly rode to the corrals, while Lila and Ruth pitched in to help prepare the lunch.

  ***

  “Kate, were you expecting anyone else today?” Martha asked setting the heavy clay pitcher down on the table.

  Kate glanced up, following Martha’s gaze to see two riders coming in from the main road. Frowning, she placed the pies she was carrying in the center of the table, and wiped her hands on her apron as she watched their approach. Worry began to gnaw at her as she recognized the bay colt and the man riding him. What was Matt Johnson doing here?

  “I’ll be in the house if you need me, Kate,” Martha said, watching the men.

  “Don’t go far.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Will you tell Jake they’re here before you go in?”

  “Of course.” Martha hurried off in the direction of the roasting pit.

  “Matt,” Kate greeted him as they drew closer.

  “Kate, I heard you were branding today. I’ve come to offer my assistance.” Matt Johnson dismounted smoothly. Dropping the reins, he took Kate’s hand and kissed it warmly.

  “Matt, I think we need to talk.”

  “Of course we do, so many plans to make, so much to do,” he smiled at her. “I fear I have been quite remiss in coming to call over the past weeks, but then neither of us are in our first bloom of love, ours will be a marriage of convenience and maturity, will it not?” His hazel eyes shone with a possessive light as he put an arm about her waist, steering her toward the garden.

  “Matt, I...” Kate began to protest.

  “Dick, you head up to the corrals to lend a hand. I’ll be along shortly.”

  Kate’s heart froze at the mention of the name. She looked at the man now riding away from her. He was small, nondescript, wearing a dark jacket even in this heat, and riding a roan horse.

  “So, my dear, have you considered a date yet? Perhaps September might be a good month for a small wedding.”

  “No!” his question brought her attention abruptly back to him. “I - I mean, no, I haven’t thought about it. Matt, I can’t B“

  “Oh, that’s all right. I fully understand, what with spring planting, calving, and now the branding, of course you haven’t had the time to think about it.” He turned to her, “That’s why I’ve made arrangements with Reverend Watterston in Guthrie. I thought I’d leave the exact date up to you, but do make it in September. I’m having the house there redecorated. You can begin moving your things up there anytime you wish. I’m sure you’ll be rel
ieved to get away from all this drudgery out here.”

  Her heart sank. She dropped her gaze to the ground, searching for the words to make him understand. “Matt, I can’t marry you.”

  “Don’t be silly, of course you can. A woman cannot manage a ranch like this alone.” His voice was hard, his grip tightened about her. “Right now, I’m going out to oversee the branding. When I return, we’ll announce the happy news to all our friends here.” He tilted her head up to meet his eyes, “I really don’t think you have any choice, do you?” The veiled threat sent a chill through her and she shivered in spite of the heat.

  ***

  Luke focused on a small brown and white calf. He could feel the powerful black horse beneath him tense as Raven picked up the calf and began cutting him slowly from the herd. Luke marveled at the natural talent and ability of the horse. The calf ducked back and tried to turn, Luke grabbed the saddle horn and held on as the stallion’s lightning quick moves mirrored the calf, moving him away from the herd and toward the branding fires.

  Jim Kelly sat on his sorrel gelding with his lariat loosely coiled, ready to rope the calf as he ran past. Once roped and down, one of the boys quickly tied his legs while a second brought the hot iron to sear the Providence brand onto the left hip. Bert Hanneman worked deftly with a sharp knife to castrate the bull calf.

  Luke’s ears rang with the bawling of calves, snorting irate cows, and the shouts of men at the fires and on horseback. The acrid stench of burnt hair and hide mixed with the coppery scent of blood permeated the air, and the dust boiled, settling in thick layers on man and beast alike.

  Luke rode over to the corral fence where Jonathan waited with a canteen of fresh spring water. Taking off his hat, he wiped a dusty arm across his brow.

  “Give me that, will you?” Luke asked shortly.

  “Sure thing,” Jon replied. “It’s not too cold, but it’s wet enough.”

  “Right now, that’s all that counts,” Luke said, taking a long drink. He felt the water slide down his parched throat and was thankful for the cooling refreshment it provided.

  “Someone’s coming,” Jon said, indicating a lone figure approaching the far corral.

  Luke watched for a moment unconcerned, until a flash of memory pictured a roan horse through a thicket of green shrubbery. Taking a closer look, he recognized the dark coat and the rifle holstered on the saddle.

  “Mike, take over the cutting here for a minute, would you?” Luke called. At a wave from Mike, he handed his reins to Jonathan, “Stay here.”

  Luke approached the stranger, eyeing him warily. “Can I help you?”

  The man sat stiffly in the saddle, returning Luke’s gaze with lazy, indolent eyes. “Just here to lend a hand,” came the drawled reply, though he made no move to work.

  “Roping or branding?” Luke asked, keeping his voice steady.

  “Believe I’ll wait till the boss gets here. See where he wants me working.”

  “The boss?”

  “You know, Matt Johnson, man who’s marryin’ old lady Shaughnessey. He’ll be takin’ over here and callin’ the shots ‘fore too long,” the man said obviously baiting and watching for Luke’s reaction as he began to dismount.

  The bald-faced statement hit Luke like a gut punch. Marrying Kate? Why hadn’t she said anything? A blind rage overcame him as he grabbed the man by the shoulder, jerking him roughly from the saddle. “What are you talking about?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  The stranger winced in pain as Luke’s hand clamped down. Realization swept through him. He pulled the jacket and shirt back roughly, exposing a crudely bandaged shoulder. “Do you want to explain that,” Luke asked harshly.

  A small knot of men had gathered, watching the confrontation from a short distance. “And while you’re at it, you might try explaining what you were doing on this ranch shooting at the owner and me a few days ago,” Luke raised his voice. A murmur ran through the gathered men.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man countered, trying in vain to escape Luke’s iron grasp.

  “What’s going on here,” a sharp voice commanded their attention.

  Luke turned to meet hazel eyes glowing with hatred beneath the low brim of a dark hat.

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” Luke answered, undaunted. “This man took a few shots at us earlier this week. Trouble is, I shot back, and there’s the evidence.”

  “Dick, what’s the meaning of this?” Matt turned to the cowering man.

  “But, boss, you know...” he began feebly, faltering under the baleful gaze.

  “If you’re back to your rustling, Dick, I have no further use for you.” Matt said, his eyes never leaving the man still held firmly in Luke’s unyielding grip.

  “But, Mr. Johnson...” Dick started to protest.

  “Get on your horse and get out of here. If I ever set eyes on you again, I’ll have the law out so fast you won’t know what happened.” Matt spoke harshly, but something in his demeanor caught Luke’s attention, making him wonder at the validity of the words.

  Dick West grabbed the reins of his horse and mounted, glaring at Luke, and casting a questioning glance at his erstwhile employer. At a subtle nod from Johnson, West turned the horse, spurring him harshly, he disappeared quickly over the rise.

  Luke could hear the men muttering among themselves.

  “...not enough law in this territory.”

  “Only the federal marshals... too few and far between.”

  “That's why we need statehood, we need organized government to run this country right.”

  “Well, it ain't likely to happen any time soon, and you know it.”

  Luke caught snippets of the conversation, but his attention was focused on Matt Johnson.

  “You must be Josey,” Matt said, his eyes narrowed.

  Luke remained silent barely acknowledging the statement.

  “I believe the show's over men. You'd best get back to work. Those cattle aren't going to brand themselves.” Matt Johnson spoke in a commanding tone, yet the men remained, looking to Luke for direction.

  Luke's gaze locked on Johnson, unwavering. “He's right, men, Kate needs a job done. Let's get it finished.”

  ***

  Kate stood silently, her heart filled with loathing as she watched Matt Johnson ride away. Fear crept through her stealthily. What had he meant by saying she had no choice? Her mind raced, searching for answers. Overcome by the shock, she turned and fled up the path to the lone willow grove, collapsing in tears at the secluded cemetery.

  “Lord, oh Lord, what am I going to do?” she prayed. “I can't marry him, I can't, I won't!” she grew desperate, fear building within her until she felt as though it was pouring forth from her soul in great waves of anguish. Her heart raced, her breathing became labored.

  “I will love thee, O Lord, my strength. The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust,” she repeated the familiar Psalm again and again until the words brought a peace to her heart.

  Sighing, she sat up and wiped the tear stains from her face. Kate knew that the strength to face Johnson would come only through her faith.

  “Help, momma, somebody please help me!” Jo's plaintive wail reached Kate's ears borne on the breeze beginning to stir the still heat of the day.

  “Oh, Lord, what now?” Kate cried, racing toward the yard.

  ***

  “Kate, there you are!” Martha called. “Come quickly, it’s Jo.”

  “What is it? What’s happened? Is she all right?” Kate scanned the yard looking for her daughter.

  “She’s up there, ma’am,” came a timid voice.

  Kate glanced down into the terrified face of Jeremy Hall. He was pointing to the windmill. Shading her eyes with one hand, Kate could just make out the small form of her daughter clinging desperately to the wooden framing, her blue dress billowing in the light breeze.

  “Jake’s gone to fetch Luke.” Martha s
aid.

  Kate picked up her skirts and ran to the base of the windmill tower, followed closely by Martha and Jeremy. Several women and children were already gathered there, some calling encouragements to the stranded girl, others wringing their hands.

  Nana stood apart, hands firmly planted on her hips, “What were you thinking, Jolene Rose Shaughnessey?” she scolded. “How could you have done such a thing?”

  “I’m so sorry, Nana, I’ll never do it again,” Jo cried. “Just please get me down, I’m so scared!”

  “Jolene, hold on, don’t move, Momma’s here now. Luke’s coming.” Kate called.

  “I’m sorry, Miz Shaughnessey, it’s all my fault,” Jeremy cried, tugging at her skirt.

  “Jeremy, what happened?” Kate asked, her gaze fastened on Jo.

  “We was just playin’, but I beat her racing, and she said she could climb a tree faster’n me, so I said bet I could climb all the way to the top of the windmill, but she said she could go higher and faster. Then before I knew it she was above me, but now she can’t get down. Every time she tried, her skirts went all gollywampus and she kept getting her foot caught, and she got scared,” he paused for a breath, tears streaming down his ruddy cheeks. “Ah, gee, I’m so sorry!”

  “Jeremy, it’s going to be all right, Luke’s coming, he’ll get her down, I know he will.” She knelt before the trembling boy and gathered him in her arms. “It’s not your fault, Jeremy, do you hear me?”

  He nodded, sniffing, his blue eyes swimming with tears.

  Kate’s heart went out to him, even as she turned her gaze back to her stranded daughter. Lord, protect these children. They are wholly Yours, take them in Your hand right now, and protect them with Your love and grace, she prayed silently.

  ***

  “Kate, what’s going on?” Luke’s angry tone rose above the hum of voices. He strode into the yard followed closely by Matt Johnson, Mike Hall and Jonathan.

  “Oh, Luke, thank God you’re here,” she cried, her eyes pleading with him. “You’ve got to get her down. I don’t know how much longer she can hold on.”

  The look on Kate’s face tore at his heart. Wresting his eyes from hers, he glanced up to where Jo clung to the tower. Fear tried to overwhelm him, but he fought it down, knowing that he would need to stay calm in order to get her down.