A Good Man for Katie (30 page)

She squelched the desire to laugh as the general, big, brawny and full of doubt, shook the dog’s paw then wiped his glove against his coat.

“Run along and play with Walter now.”

Sarge needed no second invitation. He bounded through the snow and jumped at the boy, nearly knocking him down—to Walter’s unbridled delight. Kathryne took her father’s arm as they strolled across the bridge between the schoolhouse and the cottage.

He said nothing as he kicked the snow from his shoes on one of the porch steps then entered the house behind her. He didn’t move from the parlor, his eyes taking in everything as she put several logs on the still-glowing embers in the fireplace. The wood crackled and popped, the only sounds in the silence between them.

“I’ll take your coat.”

The general removed his gloves, stuffed them in the pockets then shrugged out of his coat. He moved closer to the fireplace and the flames just springing to life.

Kathryne folded his coat over her arm. The scent of soap and bayberry and tobacco reached her nose and for a moment, she was a little girl again, sitting beside him at the breakfast table, listening as he read the newspaper aloud.

Not all her memories of him were of them arguing, of his blustering and giving orders, Kathryne admitted to herself as she hung his coat on a hook then filled a kettle with water from the pump and placed it on the stove. He wasn’t always a controlling man. Indeed, when she was young, the general had been quite capable of laughter and showing affection when he wasn’t off training his troops. It wasn’t until she became older and knew her own mind that the affection changed to something different.

The kettle whistled, bringing her back to the here and now. Kathryne removed the kettle and stood at the table. Slowly, she poured steaming water over the tea leaves in the strainer of the little ceramic teapot she’d purchased just last week from Graham’s General Store.

“This is nice, Kathryne,” the general said as he entered the kitchen and stood at the table, his big, blunt hands resting on the back of a chair. “Not as nice as our home in Georgetown, of course, but adequate.”

Kathryne jumped, startled, and almost scalded herself. She hadn’t expected him to join her in the little kitchen—the kitchen was a woman’s place and a man didn’t belong in it, or so he’d always said. His gaze circled the room then came back to her.

“It shouldn’t take you long to pack your belongings.”

She sighed as she put the kettle back on the stove then set cups on the kitchen table, aware his unrelenting, piercing gaze rested on her. She refused to let his attitude rattle her. She’d stood up to Shep Turner, hadn’t she? And the Ladies’ Society?

“I’m happy here, Father.” Kathryne pulled two small plates from the shelf and put them on the table. She added forks, knives and napkins and the last slab of an apple cinnamon cake she’d made herself. “I’ve built a life for myself. It’s a good life. I adore the children I teach and I’ve made friends.” She poured tea into their cups and took a seat. Her gaze rose to his. She didn’t blink.

One bushy white eyebrow rose almost up to his hairline as he took his own seat. “How can you be happy here, Kathryne? For God’s sake, your mother and I were robbed.” He slapped the table with his open palm. The teacups rattled. “You’re coming home with us.” His voice reverberated throughout the small cottage.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly in the face of her father’s anger. “No, Father, I am not. I’m already home.”

He changed the subject and asked, “Do you remember Captain Collier?”

She did indeed remember the young man who worked for him and not very fondly, either. More than anything else, she remembered her efforts to stay away from his grasping, sweating hands and the wet lips he tried to press upon her whenever she was close to him.

“He’s still interested in you. Despite the scandal, he still desires to marry you.”

Kathryne stiffened. “That’s very kind of him, but I’m not interested in marrying Harlan.” She took a sip of tea then gazed out the window above the sink where she could see Walter and Sarge further up the hill, the boy throwing snowballs as fast as the dog could chase them. She couldn’t help smiling at the scene.

“Why not?”

The question snapped her attention back to the general. “I don’t love him.” She almost said
I’m in love with someone else
but stopped herself. He didn’t need to know.

Her father harrumphed, a sound she heard often growing up, especially when her thoughts and comments didn’t coincide with his. “What does love have to do with it?”

“Everything.” She picked at imaginary lint on her skirt, her eyes darting back and forth between the spotless material and his face. “I look at Emy and Terry and I want what they have.”

“Your sister is unusual.” He gestured to the cake and Kathryne served him a slice. He took a bite and chewed. She waited for a comment, a compliment, anything, but he just picked up the threads of the conversation. “She fell for Terrence the moment she set eyes on him. That doesn’t happen every day.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Kathryne admitted, a little disappointed he said nothing about her cake. “It’s worth waiting for though, don’t you think?”

The general’s face took on that particular reddish hue it always did when he started to become miffed.

Kathryne rambled on despite the warning sign. “What about you and Mama? You were in love when you married. As Mama tells it, you fell in love with her the moment you met at a barbeque.”

Galen cleared his throat and put down the fork then wiped his lips with a napkin. “We’re not here to talk about love, Kathryne. We’re here to talk about you coming back to Washington with your mother and me.”

A scratch at the door made her rise from the chair. She opened the portal, let Sarge into the house and waved at Walter. “Go straight home now, Walter. You can play with Sarge again tomorrow.”

Sarge’s nails clicked on the floorboards as he went directly to his water bowl and took a drink, his tongue lapping up the liquid as if he’d never had a drink before. Chasing snowballs was thirsty work.

“The dog stays in the house with you?”

Kathryne sighed as she took her seat again. “Yes, Father, he does. He’s a good dog, better behaved than most people. I trust him with my life. He’s a good judge of character, too, and unlike people, he never has a cross word for anyone, never criticizes and he loves me unconditionally.”

The subject of their comments finished drinking then shook his head, sending droplets flying out in all directions. His big pink tongue swooped out of his mouth to lick the remains from his nose and lips. Tail wagging, ears perked, he trotted to the table and began a thorough inspection of the general, smelling everything from his trouser leg to the sleeve of his shirt to the hand resting in his lap.

Galen stiffened beneath the scrutiny and the cold nose against his flesh. “What’s he doing?”

Kathryne laughed at the expression on her father’s face. “It’s all right. He’s just getting to know you.”

After a moment, Sarge laid his big head on the General’s lap and gave his little growl-groan.

“He wants you to pet him.”

With great reluctance, the general scratched behind the dog’s ears. After a moment, Kathryne could see some of the tension ease from his body. Sarge had that effect. She herself felt calmer when petting the furry beast.

“That’s enough, Sarge. Leave him alone now.”

The dog flopped to the floor with a sigh and sprawled out, his paw resting on her foot.

Her father raised an eyebrow and a touch of amazement colored his voice. “He listens well.”

“Yes, he does,” she said then took a sip of tea and raised her gaze to his. Her breath stuck in her throat, the words on the tip of her tongue burning, and she swallowed hard. “About Washington—” she started to say then took a deep breath and tried again. “Please listen to me, Father. I—I…”

Dammit! You stood up to Shep. Why can’t you stand up to your father?

Drawing strength from the events she’d experienced since coming to Crystal Springs, Kathryne sat up straight and pinned the general with her stare. “I love you, Father, but I will not be joining you and Mama when you go back to Washington. I will not even consider marrying Harlan Collier. And I certainly will not enter a convent. Nor will I live with Aunt Euphemia.”

She took a deep breath and watched his face. Yes, the color was changing, redness creeping up his features, making his mutton chops and mustache stand out stark white, and once again, his muscles stiffened, but he said not a word. She didn’t flinch as his eyes narrowed. Indeed, she kept meeting his unrelenting stare. “I’m staying right here. In Crystal Springs. And I will continue teaching as long as I am able. I like my life here. I like my independence.”

“That’s enough, Kathryne.”

She’d gone too far and she knew it though he didn’t slap the table this time. Indeed, he sat perfectly still, his broad chest expanding as his breathing deepened. “We’ll discuss it more later. Right now, your mother is waiting at the hotel. Emy and Terrence will be joining us for dinner.” He glanced at her pristine white blouse and burgundy skirt. “You might want to change into something more appropriate.”

“What I’m wearing is perfectly acceptable.”

An eyebrow rose though no words of reprimand were spoken as he stood and grabbed her cape and his coat from the hooks by the door. The dog rose as well, tail wagging, ears perked.

“He’s not coming, is he?”

“Of course. He goes almost everywhere I go, but I suppose he can stay home today.” She turned to the dog and wagged her finger. “You stay, Sarge. Watch the house.”

They left the cottage, their breaths pluming in front of them, bundled against the cold. “I always thought Arizona was hot,” the general mumbled and adjusted his collar closer to his neck.

“It is further south, but up here in the mountains, it can get rather cold.”

As they walked through town, Kathryne waved to acquaintances and introduced her father to several of her students who took a break from their snowball fight to swarm around her.

“They seem to adore you,” he remarked as the children resumed their battle.

“And I adore them.”

The general opened the front door to the Crystal Hotel, and Kathryne strode into the lobby with its hanging crystal chandelier and fleur-de-lis patterned carpet. She nodded to Noelle behind the registration desk then followed her father upstairs to the grand suite.

As he worked the key in the lock, the door flew open and her mother stood in the doorway, looking more beautiful than Kathryne remembered. Except for a few streaks of gray in her hair, Virginia O’Rourke hadn’t changed at all. “Kate!”

“Mama! I’ve missed you!” She flew into her mother’s open arms. Whereas the general had never been a man to show affection after she’d reached a certain age, Virginia O’Rourke had always shown twice as much. Hugs and kisses were frequent and lovingly given.

“And I’ve missed you, my girl.” her mother said once they broke apart. “Let me look at you.”

Kathryne stood back as Virginia gazed deeply into her eyes. A smile tilted the corners of her mother’s mouth. “Ah,” she sighed, “coming here was the right decision.” Her eyes twinkled and her smile widened. “Well, let’s not stand here in the corridor. Come inside. Let me take your cape. It’s quite lovely. I love the fur around the collar. It matches your hair.”

Kathryne unbuttoned the cape, but instead of handing it to her mother, she laid it over a chair by the door.

They glided into the two-room suite and made themselves comfortable on the settee to the side of a roaring fire, the general preceding them and going straight into the bedroom. A silver tea service rested on a low table, one cup of tea already poured and doctored liberally with sweet cream. Through the open door to the bedroom, Kathryne could see their luggage lined up in front of the big, four-poster bed. Her father removed his coat, tossed it on the bed then picked up one of the smaller cases and began to unpack.

“You’re not angry with me?”

“Of course not, Kate. How could I be?” Virginia shrugged. “The minute you boarded the train, I knew you wouldn’t be going to Euphemia’s. Your father can be so bull-headed sometimes, but I knew. I always knew. Who did you always go to when you were in trouble, but Emy?” She poured another cup of tea from the silver server and passed it to Kathryne.

The tableau was so familiar—she and her mother sitting together, sharing gossip and news of the day, solving the world’s problems and if not the world’s, at least Kathryne’s. She looked at the dainty cup in her hand and her heart took a painful lurch in her chest. Out of all the things she missed—indoor plumbing, the opera and museums—these cozy chats with her mother, she missed most of all.

“Oh, Mama, I knew you’d understand.” Tears blurred Kathryne’s vision. “I just couldn’t go to Aunt Euphemia and God knows I’d never survive a convent.” She peeked into the bedroom and noticed the small case on the bed had been closed and joined the others on the floor. Her father stood by the bed, and looked around the room, as if he was searching for something he couldn’t find.

Virginia grinned and called, “They’re on the bureau.”

Kathryne grinned too as her father grabbed a long, thick cigar from the box on top of the bureau and popped it in his mouth. Now that’s how she remembered him best—with a cigar. She brought her attention back to her mother. “How long will you be staying?”

Virginia took a sip of tea and swallowed before she said, “As long as he thinks it will take him to convince you to come back to Washington.”

“But Mama, I’m not going back. I’ve already told him,” she whispered. “My home is here now.”

“I know, Kate.” Virginia smoothed her hand along Kathryne’s cheek then tucked her hair behind her ear. “Let him see how happy you are here. It won’t take him long to realize this is where you belong.” She tilted her head. “You are happy here, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mama, I am.”

“Good. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, dear heart.” The general joined them to pace in front of the fireplace, the thick cigar clamped between his lips, unlit. Virginia glanced at her husband and one eyebrow cocked over a twinkling brown eye. “Galen dear, why don’t you go downstairs and smoke your cigar? I’m certain there is a smoking parlor in this hotel. It seems to have all the amenities. Kate and I will meet you in the dining room after we’ve become reacquainted.”