Kat's Law

by Samantha St. Claire

  Like a hospital chart hanging from the end of her patient's bed, Kat mentally read the symptoms of her town's problems. Violence had increased. People were afraid to confront the one man who declared he was here to protect the town. Robberies were continuing in spite of his growing contingent of 'law keepers.' A guard, with fresh bruises and a gunshot wound only hours old had suddenly reappeared at the sight of the robbery a full day later. The Frenchman's cabin was now occupied in easy striking distance of the wagon road to the mines. Somehow, even with the changing routes, the robbers knew where to strike.

  She'd read the symptoms and had she been in the hospital she would have formulated a diagnosis and a plan. But the results of her observations were inconclusive, making a plan more difficult. Shaking her head with both weariness and frustration, she realized again why she hadn't spoken to Jonathan about her concerns. Everything she knew or suspected was purely circumstantial, and no court of law would use any of it as evidence to convict anyone of wrongdoing. But the suspicions continued to gnaw at her.

  Still gazing out the window toward Snowberry, she saw a horse and rider riding in fast through the dark streets, continuing to the trail leading up to the house. With the illumination of moonlight, the identity of the rider became clear a few feet from the house. Josie's husband, Simon, jumped from his horse and ran up the two steps to the front door. Kat answered before he had a chance to knock twice.

  Riding fast up to the McCurry house on Blue along the moonlit trail gave Kat a chance to focus on something other than her concerns for the town in general and shift her attention to the happier advent of new life. Four hours later, with very little help from Kat, Josie delivered a beautiful girl, healthy and absolutely perfect in every way. It was Kat's first delivery on her own, and Josie's fourth.

  "Well you were certainly right when you said you brought your babies into the world fast. I barely made it here in time. If I'd have delayed an hour, you would've been up making me a cup of tea." Kat laughed as she stood at the sink giving the youngest member of the Simon McCurry family her first bath. She knew that frontier wisdom advised against such things but the community would have to accept that with Dr. Kat Meriwether superstitions and old wives' tales had met their match.

  Josie sat up in bed looking weary but content. Wrapping the infant in the rosebud blanket, Kat carried her back to the bed. Instantly, she was nursing at Josie's breast making her own contented sounds. Kat stroked the infant's downy soft head. "You do make beautiful babies, Josie. Have you decided on a name?"

  "Of course. This one's Kathryn. We'll call her Katie for short so she's not confused with her Auntie Kat." Josie's joy was infectious, pulling Kat into it like she was wrapped in the same quilt of happiness.

  Kat hugged her and the baby in one embrace. "That's sweet, Josie. Are you sure Simon agrees?"

  "Oh, he doesn't care, just as long as he gets to name the next one Samuel." Josie chuckled.

  "He's that sure, is he?" Kat asked.

  "He's a very determined man."

  "Let me make you some tea. Then I prescribe a long day off your feet, my friend," Kat said.

  When Kat left Josie's house, sunrise was still an hour away. Simon protested against her starting for home before daylight, offering to ride with her when she would not be dissuaded. Kat insisted that Josie needed him more than she. So, he saw her off, warning her to be watchful.

  Kat swung into the saddle. With a gentle squeeze of her knees, Blue started on the trail home. The world seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation for the arrival of the new day. How perfect, she thought, to deliver a baby at the start of such a glorious Idaho morning! As she emerged from the trees into a clearing that gave her a vista to the eastern range, she pulled up Blue. The distant snow-capped range stood backlit in a shade of blue-gray. She paused to think how the color matched that of Jonathan Winthrop's eyes.

  Slipping from the saddle, she stepped forward to lay her hand on Blue's neck. The Morgan threw up her head as if questioning her. Kat surmised that she'd rather be back home in her barn with a pile of hay to occupy her morning. She rubbed her chin, crooning to her. "Oh, Blue, breakfast will wait, but this won't."

  She hadn't been out this early in a very long time. Sunrise here had always been special to her, especially up in the high valleys. Sunrise in the city had a magic of its own, where the morning light gleamed against white marble in pink and orange, and rays illuminated lofty arched windows. Here, birds waited silently until the first rays broke behind the mountain before singing their songs of awakening. Before deciding the path it would take that day, the air itself seemed to take a deep breath and hold it. It was in that silent moment Kat thrilled, standing with creation, waiting for the revelation of the day ahead.

  Light gave definition to the distant crags and peaks, just as it had the night before when she'd stood with Jonathan at the edge of the woods. Pale light began to bring the shadows below and around her into solid form. A tail flipped and Kat focused on the movement a little below her, lower on the flank of the mountain. The shadowed form resolved itself into a horse and rider, standing like statues. Both heads turned to the lightening sky.

  Hues of pink and peach made a watercolor wash behind the mountain, projecting a pale glow on this side of the mountain on which they waited. Her eyes shifted from the point of most brilliant glow to the rider and back again. In an instant, light and warmth touched her face. She lifted her hand to her brow to gaze as light slid down the mountain to touch the rider and the horse below. Blue must have sensed the horse then, because she blew, nickering a soft call. Both the man and horse reacted at the same time. The man peered up at her, keeping his eyes upon her for a minute before turning his gaze back to the sunrise.

  Although she could not make out the man's facial features hidden beneath his wide-brimmed hat, the sturdy bay was very recognizable. She took in a sharp intake of breath. He was here sharing this same sacred time in the quiet moments of dawn. She closed her eyes tight, wondering if she were dreaming. Perhaps Josie's baby, the ride here in the wee hours of the morning had been a part of the dream. She might yet awaken in her bed, warm and wrapped in her quilt. When she opened her eyes, the man and horse were gone. She mounted Blue and stood in the stirrups to get a higher perspective, searching the side of the mountain for any sign of them.

  Minutes passed. Convinced that her lack of sleep had caused her to conjure him, she gazed down to the valley floor where thin light now washed it clean. Then he was there on the trail before her as if by some magic of the morning, outlined in the glow of sunrise.

  "Good morning, Miss Meriwether." Jonathan's face shadowed by a night's growth of stubble looked almost sallow. His lips opened in a weary smile. "What brings you to the mountain at this hour?"

  Suddenly aware of her own appearance, Kat felt self-conscious. She knew she must scarcely resemble the same girl he'd danced with the day before. "Josie McCurry gave birth last night to a little girl." She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've not had much sleep. I must look a fright."

  His voice was so soft, that she scarcely heard the words. "Not at all. You look... lovely."

  Kat felt the color rise to her cheeks. She quickly asked, "Do you usually rise so early?"

  "No, ma'am, not quite so early to be here. Some of the steers wandered a bit yesterday while we were in town. We've been chasing them for a while, Adam and I."

  "Oh, is he about?" She lifted herself in the stirrups to search the flank of the mountain.

  "No, he headed back an hour or so ago. I just needed some time to think about things. Out here, the mind clears up."

  She knew exactly what he meant. It's what drew her so often. Mornings were the best cure for a clouded mind.

  "Are you heading back to town now?" he asked.

  She sensed that this wasn't a casual question, considering his concern the last time he'd seen her travel home alone.

  "Yes. I'm looking forward to a bath and a few hours of needed sleep. I think Blu
e is too. Well, maybe without the bath." She laughed nervously.

  Jonathan asked, "Would you allow me to travel with you? I could do with picking up a few things from the mercantile."

  She doubted the honesty of his excuse for traveling with her, but to refuse would be nearly akin to calling him a liar. She answered, "That would be fine."

  The trail grew narrow, forcing them to ride single file with Blue leading the way. The sky turned from pale gray to a blush of pink as they traveled together in silence. Approaching the fork leading to town, the trail opened up. With a gentle pressure of his knee, Jonathan urged Jessie to catch up to the Morgan enabling them to walk side-by-side.

  A few steps later and Kat broke the silence. "Father told me that you were a Texas Ranger before you came to our valley." She wondered at the wisdom of asking him, since he had not offered the information to her on his own. But his answer mattered.

  "That's so."

  Kat bit her lip as she considered whether she should push him for more explanation or respect his silence.

  "I left the service," he volunteered.

  "I see." She didn't, not really. His reply was far from an explanation. She regretted having brought up the subject.

  "There was an incident, a kidnapping," he said. Kat glanced at him from the corner of her eye, watching his struggle to put words to the pain. She waited, holding her questions as she held her breath.

  "There was a girl, a hapless, innocent pawn, but fate or Providence placed her directly in harm's way. I . . . underestimated the man who took her. Over-confidence in my abilities to measure the threat of a man led me to think I had the situation under control." He stopped. It was an uncharacteristically long speech for him, as though a rehearsed confession he might have once made. There was something about the way he said the word underestimated that sent an icy shiver down her spine.

  He continued, each word carefully chosen. "Her survival depended on my playing the game better than the man who took her captive." His voice came flat from tight lips, eerily devoid of emotion. Kat pulled her coat close to her neck, suddenly chilled, listening to both the spoken and the unspoken explanation.

  "I didn't."

  Kat pulled up Blue's reins, tears suddenly welling up in her eyes.

  Jonathan stopped as well. His face which had seemed sallow before, now looked ashen. She surmised that he hadn't told his story many times. Perhaps the pain it inflicted on him to confess it, reliving it, was too intense.

  "I'm so very sorry, Jonathan. So sorry. . ." Her words came out hoarse, her throat tight. The sympathetic pangs of grief that pierced her were as much for Jonathan as for the unfortunate girl.

  Now she knew. This was the wound he carried, a wound that had festered, refusing to heal, turning septic as years had left it untreated. But what could she do? With all her training to be a healer, what could she offer him? She doubted that her sympathy would do little for him. In fact, she surmised that he'd probably resent it. What she knew with certainty was that he desperately needed surgery to remove the cancer of self-condemnation.

  "And you blame yourself for all of it." Kat did not say it as a question but a statement of fact.

  "Of course." There was no bitterness in the statement. For him it was a statement of fact.

  Kat reached across the space between them, stretching to touch his hand. Her fingers brushed his tight knuckles. "Doctors lose patients all the time. They miss things in their diagnosis. They fail to treat a wound effectively. They make mistakes and people die. If doctors walked away from what they'd been trained to do every time they lost a patient, there wouldn't be very many of us left."

  "Have you?"

  "Have I what?" she asked.

  "Have you lost a patient?"

  Kat closed her eyes, shaking her head. "No, not yet. But I dread the day it happens. I know it will come."

  "Maybe we can have this discussion then, and it will mean something." Jonathan pulled his hand away from hers, touching his mare's flanks with his heels.

  She sat unmoving, watching him ride on, his back stiff. "Jonathan! That's not fair. Why did you tell me?"

  He pulled up Jessie, but didn't turn back. "I don't know."

  Kat urged Blue forward until she was beside Jonathan again. "Please."

  He looked at her with tortured eyes. "Please what?"

  Taking a slow breath, she searched her mind for words to give him. The pain she read in his eyes was so intense, she felt the need to look away, but she didn't. She sorted through platitudes and rejected them all. At last she said, "In school, we had discussions with experienced physicians who had dealt with failure on even greater scales. One doctor told us of a child he'd thought had a simple tummy ache from eating too many sweets. But she had contracted cholera from a polluted creek. Before it could be contained, more than two dozen people died. It's a risky business, whether you are a doctor or a lawman. When people trust you and you let them down. . .It happens, Jonathan."

  "I let my pride get in the way. I was good at reading criminal minds. But he read me better."

  She could hear the candor in his confession, admiring him all the more for it. "You lost confidence in what made you good at your job." Kat wanted to touch him again, to comfort him, but she feared his reaction.

  Jonathan sat back in his saddle, taking off his hat. With his other hand he ran his fingers through his hair in one long pass. Then he turned to her again, but his eyes were cast down to his hat still in his hand. "I know you want me to take on Gilford Hall. You don't have to dance around it."

  Kat shook her head, her eyes wide. "That's not what I'm doing! I'm not trying to convince you of anything other than trying to help you see what happened in a different way. You did your best. I'm certain of it."

  Jonathan chuckled mirthlessly. "You can't be sure of any such thing. The point is this. I'm not a lawman anymore. I handed in my star. I'm done." He drove his hat back onto his head, then lifted the reins.

  "Jonathan, please."

  He kept his eyes ahead of him, focused on the trail, closing out any argument against his own self-condemnation. She could see, plain as day, how he'd lashed misery to himself as a form of penance.

  He was right. She had hoped he'd confront Hall. Of everyone she knew, he was the man to do it. She was equally certain that if he did not step forward, the violence would escalate, changing her peaceful Snowberry forever. It would become like every other town that bordered nearly every gold and silver field. But it hurt her to think of the burden this decent man was carrying alone. How could she ask him to get involved in a battle for a town he hadn't claimed as his own?

  "Need to see you home," he said, starting off at a trot, not waiting for her to say more. But she would not have said more, because she was fighting her own war where she was caught in the middle. Two sides warred a terrible battle, the good of the town versus the good of Jonathan Winthrop.

  Jonathan slid from his saddle and walked the bay to the barn, following a few paces back from Kat and the blue roan.

  Kat turned back at the door. "That's interesting. Dad must have gone out early this morning. The sorrel is gone and the buggy is still here. Must have been somewhere up in the hills where he'd have had trouble with the buggy. Maybe he left a note."

  She led Blue inside and took off his tack. Jonathan stayed in the shadowed door frame his back to her while his eyes scanned the road leading to town. Kat could sense the tension in him from both his silence and his body. She gave the roan a quick brush down, then a generous breakfast of hay before crossing to the doorway to stand beside him.

  With his gaze directed to the hills, he asked, "Did your father tell you about his conversation with Gilford Hall yesterday?"

  Kat frowned as she tried to recall what he'd said. "I know that he said the man spoke with him, but nothing specific. Why?"

  Jonathan rubbed his chin, blowing out a long breath. "He made a threat, against you and your father." He paused, then swung his head back to face her. "You can't tru
st him or his son."

  She looked up, mouth slightly open, lost for words even though questions were bubbling within.

  Jonathan put his hands on her shoulders, his grip as firm as his voice. "You've got to watch your back. Be alert. Come to me if you feel in danger." There was a fierceness in his eyes that frightened her.

  "But I thought you wouldn't go up against Gilford Hall." She shook her head, confused and feeling a simmering burn of anger. She watched him slowly close his eyes, his jaw tightening. "I won't fight him for his job, but if I can keep him from hurting innocent people, I will."

  His grip on her shoulders was painful now, and she pulled back, but he didn't let go. His lips parted, a look of something akin to surprise replaced the fierceness that had burned there a second before. In the next moment, his hands slid from her shoulders to her back and he pulled her tight to his chest. It was the most natural thing to do as she wrapped her arms around him. She yielded to his embrace and all the voices she'd trained to warn her away from such a situation were drowned out by the pounding of her heart, her pulse throbbing in her ears.

  Slowly, as though he was afraid of breaking her, he brought his lips to hers. From such a man as he, she could scarcely imagine him capable of such a kiss, unhurried and tender. She slid her hands up his back, feeling the firm detail of his muscles with every nerve in her fingers. There was no anatomical dissection in her mind now. She was lost and found in the same moment.

  That moment was far too brief. She felt the sudden chill as he pulled his warmth from her. He had placed his hands on her arms again, the confusion once more washing over his face. He shook his head once. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

  Stepping quickly away, he lifted himself effortlessly into the saddle. His eyes were focused on the hills for a long heartbeat before he looked down at her, his voice pleading. "Please, be watchful. Don't go anywhere without that rifle." Then he was riding away.