Kat's Law

by Samantha St. Claire

  "And I think you're just too modest, Kat Meriwether! You had the boys here crazy when you were wearing your papa's pants. I can only imagine what they thought when they saw you dressed up."

  Kat laughed at that. Then she lifted her hand and rested it lightly on her cheek, affecting a tragic countenance for her audience of one. "But sadly, I learned that night that. . ." She paused for effect, embellishing the drama by touching her finger to the corner of her eye as if to wipe away a tear.

  Josie leaned further forward, holding her breath.

  "I learned that night that he was an embezzler. He'd made a fortune abroad, working at the Bank of England. He was on the run from the police, and there was a bounty on his head." Kat glanced up at her friend's face, and knew she had hooked her right through the lip. But that wasn't enough for Kat. She wanted to pull her fully on shore and watch her flop there.

  She lowered her voice to a whisper. "And he was wanted dead or alive!"

  Josie gasped, sitting back so suddenly that she spilled her tea. "Oh no!" Her hand flew to her gaping mouth. "Dead or alive?"

  "I had no choice. I had to discourage any further relationship. I knew that I could never marry a thief." Kat shook her head sadly, but the mischief playing at the corner of her mouth betrayed her.

  "Kat! You little devil! You made that up!" Josie huffed with disgust.

  Kat leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her cup in her hands and casually asked, "You wanted a story, didn't you?"

  They laughed together until Josie started to hiccup. Kat poured a cup of water for her to drink, still laughing.

  After she'd regained control of her diaphragm, Josie asked, "Was any part of the story true?"

  Kat's mouth curved upward and she shrugged. "Some of it. He was British, and handsome, and he did take me to the opera. I did like him, quite a lot. But I did not reject him. He rejected me."

  Josie looked at her, mouth slightly open, eyes full of questions.

  "When he knew that I was serious about my medical studies, and that I was unwilling to give them up for anything or anyone, he wished me well, and simply said goodbye. It was rather . . .an abrupt ending."

  "Oh, Kat!" Josie's hand flew to her mouth again.

  Kat waved her hand as if waving away the memory like an annoying fly. "I'm quite over him. You don't have to feel sorry for me. Life is filled with choices. For the most part, I'm satisfied with mine."

  Josie lifted an eyebrow. "Really?"

  "Really!"

  "I can't imagine what that must be like. To have choices, I mean. Getting married to the first man who asked me. Having babies every year since."

  "But you seem happy." Kat wanted it to be true for her friend.

  Josie laughed again, genuine mirth this time. "I am. Truly, I am. I love my Simon. He's a good man and a wonderful father. But, you know, it might have been nice to have a choice. Feel like it all just happened, like life just comes with each new day like the sun and the seasons, one right after the other. Don't really have time to think about doing anything different, really. Even when it comes to what we eat, I make what's in the garden or what's been slaughtered." She smoothed the tablecloth with her fingers wide, but her unlined face reflected no sadness. She seemed to simply be making an honest assessment of her life, as if taking inventory.

  Kat reached across the table and took her friend's hand. "Choices can be hard too. Choices can bring regrets as well."

  Josie squeezed her hand. "Suppose so."

  Josie insisted that Kat stay for lunch and so she did. They filled the morning with much embellished stories of their mischievous days and less-than-ladylike antics.

  Kat washed up the dishes after lunch while Josie sat with her feet propped on a chair, doctor's orders. Soon after she gathered her things and Josie followed her out to where her mare was tied to the railing.

  "I sure like the Morgan." Josie stroked the neck of the little mare. "She's sure pretty. What'd you decide to call her?"

  "Blue. I know it's a bit silly, but I think it suits her." After tying on her medical bag, Kat patted her mare's rump. "Dad always knew how much I admired Mr. Forester's pair of morgans. He talked Mr. Forrester into letting him buy the filly the mare threw last spring."

  Blue cocked her ears to Kat's voice and tossed her head, as if knowing she was the topic of discussion. Her blue gray coat made her unique among her breed and particularly attractive. Her petite stature made her perfectly suited to Kat's small frame.

  "She's a beauty, isn't she? I think we might become the best of friends. She's a bit of a scamp."

  "Like you!" Josie hugged her as best she could with her round belly. They laughed at that and Kat swung up into the saddle. The Morgan pranced to the side as she took up the reins.

  "I'll be back as soon as you send word," Kat promised.

  With a gentle nudge of her knees, the Morgan leaped forward. Kat reined her into a trot and started off down the trail back to town.

  With the sun on her back and the Morgan anxious for a run, she made a decision to change direction. One place more than any other in all of Snowberry had called her home. She realized how much she needed to see it again. At the fork in the road she turned Blue's head to the trail leading into the little valley bordered by foothills.

  As the path widened, she gave Blue her head. The trees grew closer together at the higher elevation, the air more fragrant. Kat leaned into the run, thrilling at the speed and the joy she sensed in the Morgan as she flew down the trail. This little mare was most happy running full out, and seemed to do it effortlessly.

  The path led down to a low bank across a stream, then followed the base of the foothills before spilling out into the valley floor. Kat pulled up to a slow walk before leaving the tree line.

  The narrow valley opened before her familiar and inviting, her private sanctuary. This was the place that she'd fled to when her mother had died. She'd found healing here, surrounded by the beauty of the mountains, the meandering stream, marshy edges of the meadow, and gentle foothills. She'd named it Lost Eden. No one else referred to it that way. It was known to the town's folk as Schmidt's Valley, named after the man who'd first claimed it and built a cabin for himself near the west side. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun, straining to see if the little cabin was still standing. The last time she'd seen it, it appeared to be ready to collapse on itself.

  On the low bench above the river she could make out the roof and chimney. Odd, she thought, there appeared to be fencing behind the house and another structure that had not been there before. She spoke to the blue roan, and she stepped up into a trot. Farther from the tree line she began to make out the rounded backs of grazing cattle scattered about the valley. At that same moment, she heard a voice call out to someone, and an answer returned. They must be up the hill, out of sight in the trees, collecting strays perhaps.

  For some reason, she could not explain even to herself, she didn't want to be seen. Turning Blue's head, she kneed her into a run back the way they'd come, only pulling her up when they were within the cover of trees again. At that point, she turned in the saddle and looked back. Two men emerged from the trees several yards from where she'd heard their voices. Four steers preceded them into the valley as the men herded them back toward the homestead.

  Things had changed. Her secret place of solitude was no longer hers alone. She turned and urged the mare back down the trail, a sense of loss enveloping her as she moved deeper into the sunless woods.

  Chapter 9

  Deferred Decisions

  Papa? Who bought the old homestead in Schmidt's Valley?" Kat set the table while her father ladled stew into their bowls.

  "Hmm. Let's see. I think I did hear that someone moved in up there last fall. Think it was a father and son," Nathaniel said as he carried two bowls to the table. "Why do you ask?" He licked his finger.

  Kat shrugged. "I was up there yesterday after visiting with Josie. I could see that some work had been done on the place
. Looks like he's running cattle in the valley." Taking a seat, she leaned over to take a sniff of the steaming stew.

  "Nice place for it, year-round water, good grassland, pretty too." Nathaniel took a biscuit from a platter and handed it to his daughter.

  Kat ate in silence. Nathaniel studying her face, noted the change in her countenance. It wasn't like Kat not to have something to flavor the conversation.

  "I'm not sure I like the idea of you going up there on your own. This isn't the quiet place you left. We still don't know who's behind these robberies or where they're holed up. Could be anyone. Gold and silver seem to bring out the worst in folks." Nathaniel dipped his biscuit into the stew and contemplated it before saying anything more.

  He changed the subject. "So how does Josie look? I warned her that she needed to be prepared to catch this one herself since she seems to deliver each baby quicker than the last." He chuckled.

  Kat realized her father had asked her a question, and she hadn't heard it. "I'm sorry, Papa. What did you ask?"

  Nathaniel shook his head and sat back in his chair. "How was the mare? Is she too much to handle? Since you haven't been riding for some time, I was concerned she might be needing a bit more training before you start to take her out on rounds."

  Kat lifted her napkin to her mouth, a smirk peeking out of the corner. "Do you really think I'd turn down the challenge of a horse that was too fast?"

  Nathaniel chuckled at that. "No. My little girl never backed down from any challenge, not those presented on four legs nor two."

  With the letter firmly in her grip, Kat stepped determinedly into the post office. It had taken her hours to compose, and half a day more to decide to post it. She'd resolved to take the hospital position but had asked that they give her another month to settle her affairs at home. She did not elaborate on what those affairs might be. Knowing they had a real need, she felt quite certain they would grant her the extra time.

  And she found it easy to justify the delay. Procrastination was something she'd a talent for. Her study habits had proved that, finding her mind worked better when the pressure was greatest. It was an odd quirk and she recognized it and used it to her advantage. She hoped that in that time, she might find a way to gently break the news to her father.

  "Kat!" The postmaster who greeted her was also the owner of the general store, Mr. Forester. His office was adjacent to the store, a recent addition, not much larger than a generous privy. He liked the formality of a separate office for, as he called it, government business. He'd even had his wife sew him an American flag to hang at the door.

  "Mr. Forester, nice to see you." Kat stepped into the room, and moved to the side, holding her skirt to make room to close the door. Less than five feet from the door was the counter.

  Mr. Forester struck his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Sorry, I forgot! It's Dr. Kat now."

  "I think I'd feel a little odd if you called me that, Mr. Forester. You've been a family friend far too long. Kat is just fine."

  "Well then, what can the U.S. government do for you, Kat?" He leaned forward, his large hands spread wide on the counter.

  "I need to post a letter to San Francisco."

  He seemed impressed. "San Francisco is it?" Well, let's see. He pulled out a tattered book from beneath the counter.

  "Well, that'll be a 10-cent Thomas Jefferson. That's the new brown one, you know. That shouldn't take much longer than a couple of weeks. The bag goes up to the VanWyck Station this afternoon. Good thing you brought it in today!"

  "Kat! I thought that was your voice." Mrs. Forester squeezed through the door connecting the store and post office, forcing Mr. Forester into the corner where he stood wedged between two piles of boxes.

  Kat felt more than a little uncomfortable in such close quarters. She'd have happily joined Mrs. Forester in the store if she'd asked.

  "I wanted to ask you if you might lend a hand organizing the church picnic. It's a fund-raiser for the missionary society, you know. All for a good cause. I was telling the ladies that you must have all kinds of ideas you learned back east."

  "Oh, I don't know about that." To Kat's way of thinking, organizing social gatherings seemed about as unpleasant a task as dissecting a bloated cadaver. No, that was at least interesting! "I'm sure you know far better what the town people would like."

  Mrs. Forester took another step into the office, forcing her husband to grab the edge of the counter to keep from falling backward into the pile of boxes. "Nonsense! We need your help. Mrs. Townsend, Mrs. Schuster and I are meeting tomorrow afternoon right here. Now, I look forward to your ideas." Without waiting for a response, Mrs. Forester squeezed out of the room.

  Kat, looking stunned, gave Mr. Forester a pained expression.

  "Oh, Kat, there's nothing much you can do about it. I can tell you that from experience. When Mrs. Forester decides a thing, there ain't no way undeciding it."

  Kat left the post office befuddled and not a little out of sorts. She seemed to be losing the tight control she'd held on her life up until returning to Snowberry. Two steps into the street and she realized she still held the letter in her hand.

  "Oh bother!" Turning on her heel, she nearly collided with Ethan Hall.

  "Excuse me," Kat said in a tone laced with irritation.

  Smiling, Ethan tipped his hat. "No, Dr. Meriwether, excuse me."

  Kat stepped to the side, eager to be on her way, away to where she might regain a little sense of her old self-confidence.

  "Dr. Meriwether, I've been meaning to come see you and your father." Ethan's previous smile, replaced now with a solemn expression.

  Kat hesitated. "Oh? Do you have a medical need?" She doubted it, but she knew that professional demeanor makes a great defense.

  "Oh no! It's on official business, in my capacity as a lawman."

  "I see." She waited, managing to keep her expression flat.

  "It's part of my job to investigate all the circumstances of these recent robberies. I understand that you and your father may have information concerning the unfortunate death of the guard found recently."

  She had an odd thought that the man was more attractive serious than when he was attempting to be charming. "Well, I'm not sure there's any more that we can tell you than the two men who found him have already probably stated. But I'm sure that my father would be happy to share any information that he has if you would care to speak with him." She was not about to tell him her own observations. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a patient to see." Leaving him open mouthed, she walked away.

  By the time she realized that the letter to the hospital was still in her hand, she was half-way up the hill to home. With a frown, she folded it and placed it in her pocket beside the hospital's offer of employment. She assured herself that she could mail it later.

  Chapter 10

  Buried Secrets

  Kat cut through the tough stem and threw it behind her onto a growing pile of fruit tree suckers. She sat back on her heels and looked up at the crabapple tree already arrayed with magenta buds ready to burst open. The tree looked like it could breathe again. She rose to her feet and stepped back brushing dirt from the knees of her pants as she did.

  "Much better! What do you think, Mama?" she said aloud. She hoped her mother would have been pleased to see that her hedge of crabapple trees, once so lovingly tended, was still thriving.

  On either side of the trees, red peony stalks poked from the damp leaf-covered ground with a promise of pink and peach blooms yet to come. She lifted her dirt covered hands to her face and breathed in the pungent fragrance of moist, awakening soil, and closed her eyes with pleasure.

  A voice, deep and sonorous, called across the yard. "Dr. Meriwether?"

  She stepped from behind the row of trees and saw the man standing at the corner of the house. He seemed hesitant to walk farther into the garden, and waited for her to cross to him.

  Kat recognized him as she drew closer. It was the man who'd gone to the trouble
of driving her the few yards to the boarding house.

  Jonathan tipped his hat as she approached him. "Dr. Meriwether, I was hoping to find your father home."

  She brushed her hair from her face with a dirty hand. "He's not here at the moment. He had some house calls to make this afternoon. May I be of service?"

  He shifted his weight and brought a hand to the back of his neck. "Well, it's my friend, you see. He needs a bit of doctoring."

  Kat started for the office. "Oh, is he in the office now? I can help him."

  "No. He's still at the cabin. He couldn't ride here, because of the injury, you see."

  Kat turned back, waiting. He dropped his gaze to the dirt, apparently unwillingly to elaborate.

  "Well then, let me get my bag and we'll ride there." She started for the door again. "I'll just be a minute."

  "Are you sure your father won't be home soon?"

  There it was again. She swung on him, ready to defend herself, but stopped when she saw his face. The look of discomfort made it clear to her that he was embarrassed, but why?

  "What is the nature of his injury? Can we afford to wait for my father to return?" She had regained her composure and the question came levelly.

  Jonathan blew out a breath of resignation. "He got into an argument with a mule."

  Kat waited, resisting the urge to smile.

  He pulled his hand across his face, and then seemed to have come to a decision. "The mule bit him."

  "I think I can handle such an injury, even if he requires stitches."

  Jonathan rubbed his chin. "You see, I think he'd be awful embarrassed if a woman treated him. It isn't...it's a problem of where he was bit."

  Kat arched an eyebrow, even though she'd only wanted to maintain an expressionless professional demeanor. "So where is the bite?"

  He cast his eyes to his boots and mumbled, "The mule got him in the caboose." Jonathan looked up when she did not respond, and searched her face for comprehension. "The derrière." His Texas drawl made the word sound more like three words - dare e air. The air portion hung there awkwardly.