Mackinnons #02 For All the Right Reasons (17 page)

Only that morning she had awakened earlier than usual and lay staring at the ceiling, thinking of Alex. A cold weight settled in her heart. She wondered if she would ever be able to let go of the love she held for him, or would it continue to control and dominate her life as much as it did her thoughts until she was so old it no longer mattered.
Katherine Simon, spinster
.

She squeezed her eyes together as tight as she could.

How much longer? How long would the feeling torment her? When would it ever end? Tomorrow? Next year? Ten years from now?

It wouldn’t be today. That much was certain. For already thoughts of him had robbed her of an hour of precious sleep and set the somber tone for her day. For a moment she allowed herself to think about her future. What if Karin was right? What if this place never got on its feet? What if it was never possible to do more than eke out a measly existence? One day, Karin would walk through that door and say she had saved enough to leave here. What would she do then? What would happen to her when she was too old to run this place by herself?
Something will work out
, she told herself.
It always has.
But what if it doesn’t?
I’ll worry about that tomorrow. Right now, I have work to be done.

Overcome with the futility of it all, she threw back the covers and removed her gown. She pulled on a worn muslin dress that had faded from amber to a washed-out yellow, deciding to wear only one petticoat because of the heat. She moved to the pitcher and poured water into the basin, washing her face and hands, then drying them, studying her face in the mirror.

What is it about Karin that he prefers over me?

Was it her china doll appearance? The blue eyes? The blonde hair? The way she always looked perfect and pampered, not a hair out of place? Did her conversation delight him? Did the sound of her laughter thrill him? Were her jokes so terribly funny?

Katherine braided her hair, continuing the critical study of herself as she did. Would Alex like her better if her hair was blonde? She didn’t know how to make her hair blonde. What if she dyed it black? Would he like black? But then she looked at the rest of her. Everything seemed wrong—too many things to change, that much was certain. Comparing herself to her sister, everything about her was a complete opposite. The wrong colored hair. Her skin too dark, her hands too rough, her walk too determined. Her face was too exotic, her eyes too green. Her laugh was too genuine and came too easily to be controlled. She was too tall, too filled out, too everything.

She wound the braid on top of her head and fastened it down with pins. Then she looked at herself and said quite frankly, “Katherine Simon, what has gotten into you? You never felt inferior to anyone in your life, especially Karin. She isn’t better than you. She’s just different. And on top of everything else, Alex probably can’t help loving her any more than you can help loving him. Maybe it would be just as hard for him to force his feelings for you as it would be for you to force your feelings about Adrian.”

That was a sobering thought.

She went downstairs, still wishing that she could at least know what Alex thought of her.
Maybe it’s better you don’t know. Maybe you should be glad he’s indifferent.
She carried those thoughts with her to the garden where she picked a mess of turnips and turnip greens, returning to the house to wash them and put them on to simmer. She threw the waste into the slop pail, then carried a bucket of soapy water into the parlor, telling herself as she went that she wanted more from Alex than indifference. She would have dwelled upon that thought a bit longer, but Karin picked that moment to flutter into the room like a leaf swept up before the wind. “It’s too hot to be stuck in this inferno of a house.” She fanned herself furiously. “I’m going to take a walk down by the creek to cool off.”

“A walk?” Katherine asked, dropping the rag she was using to wash the windows into the bucket beside her. She glanced out the window, seeing the dark clouds banking in the distance, then back at Karin. “I don’t think this is a good time to be taking a walk. We’re in for some bad weather. Just look over there,” she said, pointing toward the dark gray shadow that stretched itself like a lazy cat across the horizon. “I’ve been watching it for some time now. It’s getting closer and darker.”

“It could be hours before those clouds reach us, and there’s always the possibility they won’t reach us at all.”

“I think it’ll be here before you know it,” Katherine said.

“And if it is?” Karin said, giving her umbrella a snap. She twirled it over her head. “What’s a little rain? It’s nothing but water. I’ve been wet before.”

“It’s bad luck to open an umbrella in the house.”

“Oh, posh! I don’t believe in all that poppycock. You’re too superstitious.” Karin untied the apron at her waist and dropped it over the back of the armchair. “Ta, ta,” she said, going out the door.

Katherine watched Karin sashay across the yard and out the gate, then turned back to what she was doing. A few minutes later, she finished washing the windows, thankful she had decided to clean the inside today, because of the rain. She took one last look out the window. It was going to rain, and it would be a good one at that—a real gully-washer. She smiled to herself, remembering that Fanny always called a good rain a “turd-floater”. It sounded perfectly all right coming from Fanny’s mouth, but Katherine couldn’t bring herself to say anything more than gully-washer. She picked up the bucket and carried it into the kitchen. She needed to make a quick inspection of the rain barrels to be sure they were still in position to catch all the runoff from the roof. After she put the bucket away she gave the turnips and greens a quick stir, dipping the spoon in the crock of bacon fat and stirring it into the greens for added flavor.

Clovis began braying. At first Katherine didn’t think that strange, but after he continued much longer than usual, she decided she’d better have a look. She opened the back door and stepped outside, breaking into a run the moment she did, for something was wrong. Clovis was braying and kicking, working himself into a frenzy that he seemed to be taking out on the fence. And well Katherine knew that fence was held together by prayer and precious few nails and wouldn’t withstand too much of his pounding. She reached the corral just in time to see Clovis kick like the mule he was, splintering the already weakened boards, then whirl and break through them with a mighty crash. The cause of the disturbance, a bull snake about three feet long, crawled swiftly between two boards to disappear inside the barn.

Katherine stomped her foot in frustration as she saw the last of Clovis’s tufted tail as he rounded the chicken coop and disappeared from sight. “Go on then, you stupid, stubborn… Oh, what’s the use?” she said, throwing up her hands and giving the dark horizon one last look. She would have to go after him, for Clovis was as necessary to their livelihood as the air they breathed. Without another thought, Katherine hitched up her skirts and hurried into the barn where she scooped up half a bucket of oats and dropped a lead rope inside, then headed in the direction Clovis had taken, her skirts gathered in one hand, the bucket in the other, for Clovis wasn’t a mule to be lured by harsh threats or sweet, soothing words. Only one thing would get him close enough to snap the lead rope on his halter and that was the rattle of oats in the bucket—if she found him, that is.

Once she was in the open field, she spied Clovis heading toward the trees that lined the creek. She prayed Karin would see him. She caught herself, realizing what she’d just thought.

What difference did it make if she did? Karin wouldn’t come within a mile of Clovis if she didn’t have to.

She didn’t think about Karin again as she hurried across the field, feeling the wind picking up and catching the scent of rain in the air. She tripped once, spilling some of the oats and driving a cocklebur under her fingernail when she dropped down to scrape up the spilled oats. She stood again and took off in a slow, steady lope, seeing Clovis disappear behind the heavy green branches of trees just ahead.
Finding him will be like finding a needle in a haystack
, she told herself as she reached the trees and ducked beneath a low branch.

The thicket was dark and cool, the leaves rustling as the wind picked up. She made her way slowly, searching the shadows, hoping to see Clovis looking back at her from beneath his long black ears.
Just before I box them!
She could see him now, his neck stretched out as far as it would go as he tried to reach the more tender leaves that grew higher on the tree. He was standing in a thin strip of a clearing that ran down to the edge of the creek. A sliver of light cut through the tops of the trees to fall across his broad back which was turned toward her. It also fell on the broad back of Alexander Mackinnon standing just a few feet away. She started to call out to him, to ask for his help in catching Clovis. She guessed he didn’t hear Clovis over the sound of the wind blowing through the leaves overhead. But he must have heard something, for at that moment he turned, his eyes going first to Clovis, then to Katherine, who took no notice, for her eyes were immediately drawn to her sister who stood in front of him, her bodice unbuttoned and her naked breasts gleaming pale and creamy against the deep walnut of Alex Mackinnon’s hand.

Katherine made no sound, save the thump of the bucket dropping to the ground, the swish of oats as they spilled out. She whirled around as silently as she had come, running blindly, seeking the cover of trees and the relief from humiliation they offered. The moment she ducked out of sight, she broke into a harder run, feeling no pain from the tangled vines that scratched her arms and face, the dead branch that ripped her clothing. Just as she reached the clearing, a blinding flash of light slammed into a hackberry just a few feet from her, splintering the wood and sending it flying. A deafening clap of thunder seemed to split the earth apart and Katherine felt a tremendous jolt that knocked her backward. It took her a moment to come to her feet, and when she did, she was stunned and wobbly legged, her sense of balance confused. When she reached the open fields, she broke into a run, stumbling and falling over the ruts she had hired Eli Whittaker’s boy to plow, getting up again to run and stumble and fall again. By the time she had reached the center of the field, great gray drops of rain were falling and a jagged bolt of lightning ripped at the sky overhead, throwing flashes of light all around her, the splitting crack of thunder coming only seconds later.

“
Katherine…Katherine.
”

The sound of her name being called out to her only hastened feet that were already flying. The sound of her name came again, closer this time, mingled with the thundering sound of hoofbeats drawing up close behind. The sound of her name reached her again, sounding as if it were coming from just behind her as she ran through the open gate. When she reached the porch, she did not slow down but hurled herself against the door, turning the handle as she did, feeling herself falling, then the warm, steadying strength of an arm as it whipped around her pulling her back against a body that suddenly had a name.

Adrian.

She knew it was Adrian the moment he touched her, for if it had been Alex, she would have felt the jolt of his touch as surely as if she had been struck by lightning.

“Katherine, my God! What’s the matter? What’s happened?” He whirled her around, his voice dropping as he cradled her wet body against him. “No,” he said, then louder, as if the agony of it were ripped from his throat. “Oh, Lord, girl. What have you done?”

Katherine looked at his face, the droplets of rain clinging to his lashes, then she looked down at her bodice that was soaked in blood. The sound of her own voice sounded strange, detached and hollow, as if it were coming from far, far away. “It’s all right. I haven’t been shot,” she said, remembering the loud crack of what she had thought to be thunder, the force of it knocking her to the ground. Then she said, “I don’t think I was shot.”

“There’s one way to find out,” he said, ripping the sleeve from her dress and splitting the shoulder seam with his knife. “Don’t,” she screamed, slapping at his hands.

“Katherine, this is not the time to be modest. You’re hurt. I’ve got to see how bad.”

“I don’t want you—”

“I have to,” he said, cutting her off and catching both of her hands in one of his. “I’m the only person here.”

He pulled the dress down, slicing the shoulder of her chemise, baring the wound. A jagged splinter of wood had pierced her flesh, imbedding itself deeply. Looking down and seeing it Katherine felt light-headed. Adrian swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to her room. Once there, he lowered her to her feet. “Do you think you’re going to faint?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m just dizzy,” she said, feeling a stab of pain for the first time. He caught her just as she slumped, feeling her body like a dead weight in his arms.

He carried her to the bed, hearing the door downstairs open just as he laid her down. “Up here!” he shouted. “Quick.” Alex was first in the room, followed by Karin.

“Katherine!” Alex said. Then to Adrian, “What happened?”

“I was too far away to see exactly, but she was deathly close to a tree when it was struck by lightning. Just as it struck I saw her fall. I thought for a moment it struck her. There’s a good-sized splinter imbedded in her shoulder that must have been driven in when the tree was struck.”

Karin was bathing Katherine’s face with a cloth. She turned to Alex. “We need a doctor.”

“I’ll go,” Alex said.

His face drained of all color, his hands trembling, he looked at Katherine one last time, then hurried down to his horse.

Everything seemed vague after that: bringing the doctor to the Simon place, the hours of waiting downstairs, the sound of the doctor’s voice saying, “It was a nasty wound because of all the splinters I had to dig out after I removed the large one. But she’s sleeping quietly now. I’ve left instructions for the opium drops with Karin. What she needs now is rest.”