Saturday's Child (17 page)

"Cranky?" Angus turned to look at her, his shaggy brows almost meeting his hairline. "That horse darn near took my arm off the one time I tried to ride him. That's why I sold him to Quentin, here. I'm not going to have a vicious animal on the place."

"He's not vicious," Katie said firmly. "He just needs attention."

"The only attention that animal needs is a bullet between the eyes," Angus muttered before taking a deep swallow of his lemonade.

"I don't quite agree with Angus," Quentin said, turning to look at Katie.' 'But don't go getting the idea in your head that Laredo is just misunderstood. Some animals are rogues and there's nothing that can be done to change that. You give him a wide berth, Katie. If you offer him a sugar cube, he's likely to take your hand along with it."

Katie shrugged, turning her attention back to her knitting. It gave her a pleasant feeling to hear Quentin sounding concerned over her safety. She could hardly spoil the moment by telling him that she'd already reached an understanding with the big horse.

There were so many days when she thought she'd surely go mad if she didn't have someone to talk to and the stallion had proved an undemanding audience. She could lean on the top rail of the corral fence and say anything that came to mind.

At first, he'd stayed on the other side of the corral, watching her warily, convinced this was some human trick to get a rope around his neck. But when nothing happened, he'd eventually gone back to his business.

Katie had started setting sugar cubes on top of the rail, feeling that if he had to listen to her rambling, he deserved a reward. It had been nearly a week before he'd come take the sugar while she was still there, but he'd finally decided she wasn't dangerous.

She'd yet to touch him but she didn't doubt that the day would come when he'd let her lay her hand on that beautiful neck of his. Time enough to tell Quentin then. In the meantime she just basked in the concern he was showing. It made her feel almost loved.

❧

Katie folded the letter slowly and slipped it back into the envelope. She was hardly surprised by Edith's news. She'd almost expected it. Each letter had contained some mention of Colin. And even in the one letter her uncommunicative brother had written, he'd mentioned Edith.

As she often did when she had something to think out, she found her footsteps leading her in the direction of the corral. Laredo studied her a moment before walking over to the fence where she stood.

"Hello. You want your sugar, do you?" Katie dug in the pocket of her apron and set the sugar on the fence next to her. She'd not yet ventured to feed him directly from her hand, though she thought it was safe enough to do so. She stroked his neck while he crunched the treat between his teeth, snuffling at the rail to see if he'd missed any tidbits. She laughed softly.

"Greedy." He turned to look at her, eyes wary, but he didn't move away.

Colin married. She was happy for him. And for Edith, but the news made her feel slightly melancholy, too. They'd married for love. With little money, only dreams for prospects, they'd married for the most foolish reason of all. How she envied them that.

She sighed, her hand stilling on the stallion's neck. It wasn't that she regretted her marriage to Quentin. He was all that was good and kind. But she sometimes felt as if there were a wall built around him, a wall he wouldn't let her cross to get any closer.

"Maybe when he lost his Alice, he truly lost his heart. Maybe he'll never love again." Laredo ducked his head as if in agreement and then trotted off.

Katie stared at him without seeing. Could she bear it if Quentin was never more than the slightly affectionate companion he was now? The only place she felt as if he truly belonged to her was in the privacy of their bed. There, she felt no ghosts, no walls. But there had to be more to a marriage than that.

Quentin had said he wanted to build something good and fine. Well, she wanted that, too. But part of what she wanted to build was a strong bond between them, one that would survive any challenge they might face. And she couldn't do that alone. Her palm flattened against her stomach.

Would the child she was now sure she carried provide her with the means to forge that bond? Surely, he couldn't keep her at a distance while she was carrying his child, perhaps a son to carry on his dream.

"You haven't been getting too close to that devil, have you?"

She jumped, spinning around so quickly she had to clutch at the fence to keep her balance. She'd been so absorbed in her thoughts, she hadn't even heard Quentin ride into the yard. He sat on the bay pony just a few feet away, lean and relaxed in the saddle.

"What are you doing here in the middle of the day?" she questioned, surprise making her voice breathless.

"We found a bunch of cattle in one of the canyons. There's some calves among them who managed to avoid the spring branding. I didn't think they needed me." He nodded to where the golden stallion paced at the far side of the corral, eyeing Quentin with deep suspicion. "You haven't been getting too close to that horse, have you?"

Katie glanced over her shoulder as if she didn't know which horse he might be talking about.

"I've kept a safe distance," she said, choosing her words carefully, knowing that his idea of a safe distance and hers might be somewhat different.

"What are you doing down here, anyway?" Quentin swung his leg over the saddle and slid to the ground, leaving the pony ground-hitched as he crossed the short distance between them and leaned on the rail next to her.

"I come down and talk to Laredo, sometimes," she admitted, feeling rather foolish. "He's more interesting than the chickens, and the milk cow is holding a grudge for my clumsy attempts at learning to milk."

Quentin laughed, the lines around his eyes deepening in a way that made her long to kiss them.

"So old Bessie holds a grudge, does she? Well, it doesn't surprise me. She always did strike me as a cranky old thing. Does Laredo say much when you talk to him?" He turned to rest his arms on the top rail, eyes on the magnificent horse.

"Not much, but he snorts and acts like he knows exactly what I'm talking about. Though I suspect he has little appreciation for the finer points of keeping a house."

"No, I don't suppose he does." Quentin glanced down at her, seeing the wistful tilt of her mouth.

"Are you very lonely, Katie?"

She glanced up, surprised by the question. The real concern she saw in his eyes put a warm glow in her heart.

"Not usually. Sometimes I wish we weren't quite so far from town or neighbors. I do get tired of hearing myself talk. But then I don't answer myself back, either, so I suppose I must be a reasonably good conversationalist."

He laughed again but his expression remained thoughtful. "I don't think I'd ever realized how isolated this life would be for a woman. I suppose I should have spent more time around the home ranch."

"Although I didn't expect parties every night and people dropping in at all hours of day and night, I hadn't expected quite this," she said, her eyes roving the wide emptiness that lay beyond the bulk of the barn. "But I've come to appreciate the beauty of it. And the privacy. Oh, I've privacy aplenty. If I wanted to run out to get a dress off the line wearing only my petticoats, there'd be no one to know or care."

Quentin saw the twinkle in her eye and his mouth widened in a smile. "And do you run to the line in your petticoats, Katie Sterling?"

"I do not. Or at least, I'm not going to admit to it if I do."

He laughed again, feeling peace drift over him, as it always did in Katie's company. There was something about her that made him forget everything but the simple pleasure of her company.

"You know I've shown you little of your home," he said thoughtfully. "At least, little beyond what you can see from the house."

"You've been busy," she said comfortably, enjoying the sunshine on her back and the quiet strength she always seemed to feel when he was near.

"I'm not busy now. How would you like to take a drive?"

"Don't you have things you need to do?" she asked, feeling a stir of excitement.

"Nothing that can't be put off for a few hours." There was a mischievous look in his eyes that she hadn't seen since the day he'd convinced Louis to let them dine at Henri's. It was boyish and quite irresistible.

"I've some cold chicken left from supper and cold potatoes. It wouldn't take long to put together a small luncheon."

"I'll hitch up the buggy."

Feeling like a schoolgirl playing hooky, Katie lifted her skirts to her ankles as she ran toward the house.

❧

An hour later, Quentin drew the buggy to a stop deep in a canyon, near where a stream ran, bubbling and dancing over the rocks. Willows bordered the streams, and higher up the canyon's sides was the deeper green of pines and the pale shades of quaking aspens, which Quentin told her would turn gold with the frosts in the fall.

Quentin had chosen a level patch of ground, covered with grass. He cleared an area for a small fire to heat some of the coffee, which Katie had learned was considered a necessity at every meal. The simple meal of cold chicken and potato salad couldn't have tasted better if it had been roast pheasant and champagne.

After the meal, Quentin leaned back on one elbow, watching sleepily as Katie settled herself on one corner of the blanket and took out her knitting. He tried and failed to remember a time when he'd seen her with her hands idle.

"What are you making?"

"A jacket," Katie answered calmly, her fingers steady on the pale blue wool.

"Are you happy?" She glanced up, surprised by the question. Quentin was looking at her, his eyes serious. She felt her heart swell with love. He might not love her passionately, but he cared.

"Yes," she answered without hesitation. It was the truth. She might not have everything she wanted but it was given to no one to have everything. And she knew, suddenly and without doubt, that if all she ever had was his affection, she could live with that. It was more than many marriages ever had.

He seemed content with her answer. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the cloudless blue sky. "The ranch isn't much yet, but I have plans, Katie. With Laredo's cooperation, we could have one of the finest lines of blood stock in the West. Cattle may always be the heart of the ranch, but horses are always going to be in demand. Good horses. And ours will be the best."

"I know they will. Quentin?" She hesitated, twisting her fingers restlessly in the fine wool she held. "Do you ever think of passing all this on to your children someday?"

"Someday. But I plan on being around a good long while, yet." He settled his head on his laced fingers, his eyes drifting shut.

"Quentin? You do want children, don't you?"

Something in her voice must have caught his attention. He opened his eyes, raising himself on one elbow to look at her. She didn't lift her eyes from the wool she held and he saw that her fingers were trembling ever so slightly.

"Katie? Is it... Are you..."

She lifted her eyes to his, nervousness and excitement warring in their depths. "You'll be a father come the first of next year."

"A child," he said, wonder in his voice. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Katie." He reached out to gather her into his arms, holding her close. "You have made me so happy."

He didn't say anything more, but he didn't have to. She'd seen the look in his eyes and knew that she couldn't have given him any gift that would make him happier.

Maybe this child would serve to draw them closer, to erase the subtle barriers he seemed to hold between them.