Harlot at the Homestead (5 page)

“Shall we get going?” Kenan’s deep voice broke her reverie and she turned to him and nodded.

“Rosie packed us a picnic.” He tipped his hat forward to shield his eyes. “So we don’t need to hurry back.”

Catherine smiled but the lump in her throat stopped her from replying. It was going to be a long day.

* * * *

An hour later, Kenan led them through some trees and into a clearing alongside the fast flowing river. The recent rains had increased the volume of water and it now lapped crisp and clean against the banks. Kenan dismounted then helped Catherine down from the sturdy leather saddle. He held her against his chest for a moment and buried his face in her hair, savoring her sweet honeysuckle fragrance.

When he reluctantly released her, she sighed and smoothed out her skirts then walked a little way off and disappeared behind a tree. He swallowed the lump of insecurity that caught in his throat as he realized that she’d just gone to relieve herself.

He tethered the horses then gathered the picnic and blanket rolls from his saddle bags. In his haste that morning, he’d packed almost as much as he did to head off on the cattle trail. He just wanted things to be right.

“It’s so beautiful here.” Catherine’s voice caressed him on her return to his side and he realized again how much he’d missed her.

Unable to reply, he laid out the blankets over the grass on the river bank. He straightened up and gazed at the panoramic Madison mountain range. The scenery was breathtaking. The flat grassy banks of the river curved slowly upwards as they spread out into the endless landscape, the green broken at intervals by gray stones and rocky outcrops. Far away in the distance, the jade tones darkened as they led up the mountain slopes and morphed into trees and bushes. The mountains themselves reached up into the sky, piercing the pure blue with their jagged ebony peaks. It made him feel insignificant, as if all that he did and experienced didn’t really matter. It was both comforting and disquieting.

“Kenan?” He lowered his eyes from the vast Montana skies to meet those of the beauty beside him. “Shall we sit?”

“Yes.” He replied. “For a while.”

She lowered herself to the blanket gracefully and tucked her legs to the side then covered them with her skirts. He admired the elegance of her form, the straightness of her back and the way she held herself so ladylike. The churning began again in his belly as his pondered again about how someone could have hurt her and he balled his fists, feeling them trembling with the pressure.

“Are you okay?” She stared at his face, her green eyes full of concern.

He frowned. “Sure.” His reply was cold and gruff. Of course he wasn’t okay. What a ridiculous question! Yet he should be okay, he had been reunited with the woman he loved. If only he could rid himself of the fear that now loomed like a dark cloud on his horizon, threatening to roll in like a thunderstorm and wash away his fragile hold on the joy he felt at her return.

“I need you to tell me everything that happened, Catherine.”

“What do you mean?” Her voice shook and she glanced away, staring across the river.

“You know what I mean,” he replied firmly.

“But today was about us having some time to…” She paused and licked her lips before looking at him. “Time to be alone.”

“Dammit, Catherine! Of course I want time alone with you but the questions I have are eating me up inside. I need to know what happened when you were away…hell, even why you went away and left me grieving. I’d never have put you through that!”

“I didn’t want to, Kenan, I swear it!” Her eyes glistened with tears and he fought the urge to reach out and pull her to him. “I had no choice. Please believe me.”

“Then start explaining.” He pushed his Stetson back on his head then smoothed away the beads of perspiration on his brow. “Prove it.”

She took a deep breath then exhaled shakily. “Okay. But you have to be patient with me and promise not to get angry. Can you do that?”

He scowled. He couldn’t promise not to get angry—he was already like a pot beginning to simmer—but he would try to contain that anger until he’d heard her out. He had to…for both their sakes.

Chapter Five

Catherine arranged her skirts around her modestly and took a deep breath. She had to do this. She knew that she owed it to Kenan but also knew that it would be extremely difficult.

She stared into his cocoa brown eyes and marveled at how they reflected the beauty of the surrounding landscape. It was as if he had absorbed the scenery—from the high ebony peaks of the mountains to the cool rushing depths of the river—and become one with it. He was strong and brave, kind and compassionate and Catherine was afraid that she would destroy him with her confession. She wanted to lean across the blanket to kiss him, to shower his handsome face with a display of her love. It was a battle to deny her basic urges. Not yet, not now.

“Kenan?”

He inclined his head then crossed his legs in front of him, getting comfortable to listen to her story or bracing himself for unpleasant revelations.

“This is very hard… I’m not sure where to…oh, I don’t know where to start.” She wrung her hands in her lap.

“The day you disappeared,” he spoke softly. “Start there.”

“Of course.” She sighed, relief washing over her at his calm tone. “My uncle had packed the wagon with some produce which he aimed to sell in Virginia City. I went along for the ride because he suggested that I could pick out some material for my wedding gown.”

“You know I’d have married you in your regular old housedress, don’t you?”

The dark shadows beneath his eyes made him appear older than his thirty-two years.

“I do, Kenan. But I wanted something pretty. I wanted to look special for you.”

He pulled a blade of grass from the ground and ran it through his fingers. She watched the movement, welcoming the momentary distraction.

“So I went in with him. My aunt stayed on at the farm. She claimed to have a headache. I offered to remain with her but she burst into tears and shut herself up in her room. I was under the impression that it must be her…” Her cheeks flooded with warmth. “Her monthlies, so I left her to it. I now know that she was distressed at what was about to happen.”

Kenan frowned. “So she knew that you wouldn’t return?”

“She was near hysterical. She always had an inclination toward the dramatic.” She gave a wry smile, recalling several times when her aunt had demonstrated mood swings an actor would envy. “But that day, she seemed different.”

“But she still let you go?” He shook his head.

“As we drove away, I spotted her at the bedroom window. She held a hand over her heart and mouthed that she loved me.”

Kenan threw the blade of grass away and rubbed his hands on his trouser legs.

“Love?” he huffed.

“I think she did in her own way. But this was bigger than her…more than she could handle.” Catherine held her hands apart in front of her to illustrate her point.

“So what happened when you got into town?”

“We dropped off the supplies then my uncle said he had business at the saloon.”

“The saloon?”

“Yes.” She picked at a nail. “He had to meet someone there.”

“But he didn’t…” He scowled.

“No, he didn’t take me in. I waited outside in the wagon.”

Catherine’s stomach churned as she recalled waiting outside the noisy, smoky saloon. She’d had a feeling that something wasn’t right, that her uncle was up to something but no idea what. She’d even pitied the whores that had spilled out onto the muddy street, their thin bodies covered only by soiled undergarments and bruises. One had glared at Catherine and eyed her traveling attire as if she’d rip it from her frame out of sheer jealousy and bitterness. If only she’d known that a similar fate had awaited her too.

Kenan adjusted his position then reached out, gently fingering the hem of her gown. He smoothed it down against the blanket and the innocent gesture increased her heartbeat. She still loved him so much and her heart ached for all that he’d been through.

“After a while…I’m not sure how long, but it must have been more than an hour, my uncle emerged, squinting against the midday sun. He’d clearly been drinking and he stumbled as he walked toward the wagon. That was when I started to feel afraid.”

Kenan moved closer to her and he took hold of her right hand in both of his.

“Go on.”

“He told me to get out of the wagon. So I did. I was confused but I hoped that maybe he just needed my help getting in as he had consumed a fair amount of whiskey.”

She looked at Kenan, but he stared off into the distance. A muscle in his cheek twitched, reminding her of an angry cat’s tail.

“He took me by the hand and dragged me toward the saloon. By this time I felt sick. I begged him to stop, told him that he would ruin me by taking me into such a place but he seemed oblivious to my concerns.” Kenan squeezed her hand and she ran her thumb over his fingers. “As we burst through the doors, it seemed that everything went silent. It was so…so dark inside and so smoky. The stench of stale liquor made me nauseous. I could barely see.” She bit her lip as tears threatened to fall.

“Then what?” Kenan uttered through clenched teeth.

“He led me toward the back of the place and into a small room where three men sat around a table playing cards.”

“I cannot believe that he did that to you!” Kenan growled. “He knew that we were to be wed yet he took you into a saloon, in broad daylight…my fiancée!”

Catherine felt the sting of tears and her throat tightened. She had known that Kenan would be angry and she had only just begun to explain. She choked out, “I’m so sorry!”

“No, no, sweetheart.” He leaned over and pulled her onto his lap. She relaxed into his strength, allowing him to comfort her though she felt that she did not deserve it. “It wasn’t your fault. Your uncle was in the wrong and I shall have words with him about this.”

“No!” she squeaked. “Please, no. It’s not what I want.”

He pulled her against his chest and kissed her forehead. “It seems that your uncle showed little concern for what
you
wanted, Catherine.”

She sniffed then took the handkerchief that he offered. “I know…but it was so difficult for him.”

“Please don’t try to excuse him any further, Catherine, because I cannot promise to remain calm.” Kenan’s voice was tight with control. “Now, please continue. Who were the men?”

“I’m not sure about two of them but the one that worried me was clearly the wealthiest. I could tell from his clothing—it was of the fashionable New York style. He was a large man, hefty as a bull with hair the color of dirty straw combed across the dome of his head and”—she shuddered as the memories flooded in—“he looked at me as if I were a mare for sale.”

She felt Kenan stiffen at her words but he said nothing.

“My uncle stood me in front of him and removed my shawl then he told me to turn around. I would have started crying but I felt furious that I was being treated in this way. I had no idea what my uncle was doing. I refused.” She lifted her chin in remembered indignation.

“So what did they do?”

She gazed at the cool river bubbling past them. How nice it would be to throw herself into the frothy surge and be cleansed of all that had happened, all that she had done. But no water could wash her sins away.

“They laughed and the wealthy man said that I would do.”

“Do for what?”

Catherine sighed then brought Kenan’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “I would do for what my uncle owed him.”

She felt Kenan’s fingers bite into her upper arms as he pushed her away from his chest to look at her. “William Montgomery sold you?” His eyes were wide.

“Not exactly sold me…” She paused, searching for the right words but there were none.

“Then what? It sounds like he passed you on like a soiled dove to the highest bidder!”

“No!” She reached out and placed a trembling hand upon his chest. “He didn’t sell me. He just… He gave me a choice.”

“Doesn’t sound like that to me, Catherine!” The fury in Kenan’s eyes frightened her. This was why she had gone along with it at the time. She had known that if she had tried to say goodbye that he’d have gone after her uncle, gone after them all.

“My uncle asked to have a quiet word with me and the man agreed. He said we had twenty minutes then he wanted an answer or he’d be claiming his winnings. So we went outside and Uncle William tried to explain.”

“I cannot see what explanation would justify what he did!” Kenan spat. He slid Catherine off his lap and stood up. “I’m sorry. I’m finding this hard to take!”

“Of course,” she whispered. “I knew you would. Why don’t we take a break? Maybe”—she looked at the water—“find a spot where we can swim?”

He turned eyes full of gratitude toward her. “Yes. Let’s take a break. Then you can tell me the rest.”

He took her hand and helped her to her feet then led her past the horses and through the swishing trees and the pale lemon faces of the flowers turned eagerly toward the sun. She followed him gladly, as she had always known that she would.

Kenan stopped at a point where the bank grew flatter and the grass gave way to silt and sand. The water was shallow and crystal clear over the stones and Catherine suddenly realized how hot and uncomfortable she felt. High summer in Montana was usually hot and uncomfortable but this year it seemed hotter than hell. Beads of perspiration trickled down between her bosoms and the backs of her knees were clammy beneath her stockings.

“Let’s go in. It looks wonderful!”

Kenan smiled at her.

“You always loved to swim, Catherine.”

They removed their shoes and outer garments then stood awkwardly.

“What now?” he asked.

“Just like always!” She chuckled.

His fingers trembled as he unhooked the front of her corset. He let it drop to the ground on top of her dress, then moved closer to her and encircled her wrist with his hands.

Her stomach flipped at the passion she saw in his gaze. He wanted her and loved her still but she had not yet revealed all to him. When she did, she feared that he would cast her aside like a broken saddle or a worn out boot.