Providence (2 page)

“Yes, ma’am.” Jo answered meekly.
Giving her mother a wide-eyed stare, she slipped past her and ran into the
kitchen, seeking refuge in the arms of her Nana.

Trembling, Kate closed her eyes
and took a deep breath, “Oh, God, forgive me, but I am so scared.” She finished
washing quickly, hung the towel to dry on the rail and walked slowly into the
kitchen. The smell of fresh baked biscuits and strong coffee enveloped her. In
spite of her fear, her stomach growled and reminded her just how hungry she
was. Jo was sitting at the table watching her warily with tears streaming down
her rosy cheeks.

Kate knelt down and opened her
arms. “Honey, come here.” Jo ran into her open arms and Kate hugged her tight.
They were both crying. Tears of grief streamed down Kate’s face, mingling with
the tears of pain from Jo. “I am so sorry, Honey, I didn’t mean to frighten
you, but when I saw you like that...”

“I know, Momma. Nana told me, I
didn’t mean it; honest I didn’t.”

“I know you didn’t. I love you.”

“Love you, too, momma.”

 “Why don’t you hop up to
the table and we’ll all eat a nice hot breakfast together. How’s that sound?”
Kate stood the girl up and gave her a tap on the bottom sending her to the big
plank table that took up the entire west end of the kitchen.

In the instant that Kate had
turned to see Jo riding that rail, the little girl had looked so much like
Will, wearing the same beat up felt hat with red curls peeking out, a hand
thrown up in the air as Will had always done when breaking the colts. As he had
done breaking the last colt. His last ride. In that one instant, Kate had
relived the entire horrifying moment. She saw Will riding the colt to the
ground, the horse falling, falling, Will crushed beneath the thousand pound
animal, his neck snapped in an instant. One minute so full of life and dreams,
the next no more than a shell; a limp, lifeless body that lay crushed and
broken on the ground. Her world had changed forever in that moment.

Kate joined her daughter at the
big table, already set with a heaping platter of warm biscuits, a crock of
freshly churned butter and a smaller crock containing the last of the honey
from the bee tree they had found last fall. Mrs. Insley carried over three
plates with fried eggs and slices of cured ham, which were shortly joined by
two mugs of strong hot coffee and a cup of milk for Jo. As Mrs. Insley took her
place on the far side of the table the three joined hands while Kate asked a
blessing on the meal and the safe return of the men.

 For a moment nothing could
be heard but the sounds of a meal being enjoyed and the everyday sounds of farm
life drifting in through the open door, the bellowing of a bull, an answering
neigh from a grazing mare, the clucking and cooing of scratching hens, and the
ever present drone of flies and honey bees.

“Momma, how are the cows doing
today? Are there any new calves? I want to feed one like last year. Are there
any that don’t have mommies?” Jo asked between bites of biscuit, honey dripping
down her small round chin.

Kate reached over and caught the
golden drop of honey from Jo’s chin just as it threatened to mar her clean
white collar. “I had to help one this morning, Jo, but I’m happy to report that
cow and calf are both doing quite well. No orphans so far this spring, thank
God.” Kate took a bite of ham, and savored the rich smoky-sweet taste. “I
counted forty-two cows in the west pastures with our brand. At least twenty had
healthy calves and I’m certain that a dozen more should calve in a week or two.
And there were over thirty steers in the far valley on that side. If the herd
on the east side does as well, we should be able to send a fair lot to market.”

 They had separated the
herds some years earlier when Will was determined to improve on their native
longhorn cattle by introducing a new strain he had read about. The bull he
brought back from Kansas with him, Casey, was big and black and had no horns at
all. He said it was called an Angus, and should serve to produce superior
calves with better weaning weights and earlier maturation. Along with Casey had
come ten mixed blood cows, mostly black and only a few with horns. To Kate it
had all seemed Greek at the time, but she grew to like the look of the bull,
and his calves certainly were larger and more prepared for market than the
others.

“T’would be a welcome thing
here.” Mrs. Insley added.

“Yes, that’s the truth. Since we
only sent the forty steers last year, well...” Kate was stopped abruptly by a
commotion in the yard.

“The men are here! Jonathan’s
home!” Before Kate could even react, Jo was out the door and barreling toward
the wagon approaching from the north.

***

Kate stood and walked to the open
door. The men were indeed home. A deep sigh of relief escaped her before she
even realized how tense she had been anticipating their arrival. Jake Insley’s buckboard
drawn by his two large blonde draft mares approached the main yard of the
ranch. Her mare, still standing patiently at the corral gate whinnied a
greeting, answered by the lead mare of the team. Jo had climbed the garden
fence to gain a better view of the proceedings. Jonathan’s faithful cow dog,
Smokey, followed the wagon at a brisk trot with his tongue lolling to the side
and a happy grin on his face.

 “Whoa, easy there Rosey;
hold up there now, Ginny.” The wagon rolled to a stop between the house and the
barn under the competent hands and gentle voice of Jake Insley. Jonathan jumped
down from the high rough seat, as his grandfather set the hand brake. He held
his jacket close to his side and a bit awkwardly, but Kate didn’t notice that.
She was busy going over the stores and provisions visible in the wagon with a
quick and calculating eye. Jake noticed her inventory, but remained quiet as he
tended to the team.

“What did you see, Jon? What did
you do? Was it fun? What’s Guthrie like? Did you bring me any candy this time?”
Jo was relentless as she approached her only playmate. Though Jon was ten years
her senior, he was patient and caring with her, and always had time for the
little girl he thought of as his baby sister.

“Well, I s’pose you could call
her Candy if you like,” he said slowly. “Hadn’t rightly thought of a name for
her yet.” Jon shyly held out his faded gray coat to the little girl who looked
at him curiously. Just then the coat wiggled, nearly jumping from the boy’s
hands.

With a delighted squeal, Jo
grabbed for the now squirming bundle and discovered a small fawn colored pup
with four white feet. “Oh, Jonathan!” Jo gasped. Then she and the pup were
sprawled together on the new spring grass, a jumble of flying paws and
petticoats.

“Jolene Rose Shaughnessey!” rang
out a stern warning from the back porch.

 Jo and the pup both froze
instinctively, and turned toward the voice. Jo’s face broke into a dazzling
smile as she held up her new-found treasure. “Oh, Nana, look! Isn’t she
wonderful? Jon brought her for me.” The sheer delight shining from the girl’s
eyes was enough to melt a heart of ice.

“Well, I s’pose it can stay then.
But on the porch, not in the house.”

“Oh, Nana, you’re going to love
her. She’s the most wonderful gift ever.” With that Jo scooped up the pup and
headed directly to her room in the loft followed closely by Jonathan and
Smokey, leaving Mrs. Insley shaking her head and muttering under her breath
about dogs in the house.

***

“It’s most all here, ma’am. What
with prices risin’ like they are in Guthrie, and such, I had to do some sure
bargaining and all to get what we did.” Jake spoke without apology, though his
eyes held hers.

“I know you did right, Jake. You
know I trust you.” Kate sighed as she looked over the meager supply of stores
that would have to see them through the seasons ahead until they could send the
steers to market properly this year.

“Did you get the seed you’ll need
for planting this spring?”

 “Yes’m. Me and Jon, we
figgered we could do that same forty in wheat again, produced pretty well last
time. And I was going to do ten acres in corn, and at least ten in oats again
this year. You think we did all right on the oats this last time?”

“I do. There’s still a few
bushels left in the granary.”

“Um-hmm, I thought so as well.”

Kate hesitated, then asked the
question that had been on her mind since they left, “Did Mr. Johnson give you
the rest of the money from last fall’s steers?”

The older man looked at the
ground, standing silent for a moment in the warm Oklahoma sunshine. A light
breeze stirred his silver hair; a bird chirruped in the stillness. Kate stared
at him intently and swallowed hard. Finally looking up, he reached into his
inner breast pocket and withdrew a yellowed envelope. He handed it to her
without comment, his flinty eyes saying far more than words ever could.

She took the envelope, and opened
it, withdrawing eight twenty-dollar bills and a receipt. She looked at the
collection of papers in disbelief. “A hundred and sixty dollars? But there
should have been at least six hundred dollars here!” Her heart sinking, she
leaned against the buckboard for support.

“The fine gentleman says that
prices are down for beef, and what with losses along the way, and his
‘expenses,’ and all, why, what he has given you is more than fair. Oh, and
he’ll be very happy to oblige you with this fall’s steers as well.” Jake’s
mocking tone left no doubt as to his feelings toward the offer.

“I’ll bet he would!” Kate
seethed.

 Matthew Johnson was one of
the largest ranchers in the territory. He had helped Will improve the herd by
introducing him to selective breeding practices, and Will had sold him one of
the Angus bull calves that had been born that first spring. Matt made no secret
of his desire to buy their claim when she and Will were struggling through the
early years, but Will was determined to make their dreams come true, and the
Lord had provided for them during those hard times.

“Providence,” Will always said,
“the Lord will provide our needs.”

He truly did provide for their
needs, and so much more. Through careful management, they were able to buy and
acquire land, until the ranch was expanded from their initial homestead claim
of 160 acres to 640. The cattle prospered, and they began to raise quality working
horses as well. And so they had begun to call the place Providence. It was a
secret name between Will and Kate, until one day she had the sign maker in
Guthrie carve a beautiful wooden sign with the word
Providence
intertwined with vines, leaves and small clusters of grapes.

 Tears flooded Will’s deep
blue eyes the evening she presented it to him. He tenderly caressed her cheek.
Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her sweetly, professing his undying love
for her. She surrendered her heart to him completely that night, finally
shuffling off the last of her scars, and pain, accepting his love as
unconditional; at last she was truly home and safe. He hung the sign between
two rough timbers, spanning the road leading into their ranch the very next
morning, the morning of the accident. Providence.

The old man and the young women
stood together quietly, each wondering what the future would hold. Kate
swallowed hard again, “What about the colts I sent with you?”

Jake’s face brightened considerably
at that and a sly twinkle came into his eyes. “Well, now I couldn’t very well
give those fine beasts to such a man as Johnson, could I?”

“So?”

“Oh, he saw them all right, and said
what fine animals they were. Asked did they come out of your black stud there.
For all his faults, that man has a fine eye for the horseflesh, he does. ‘Yes,’
says I, ‘and some of the finest mares in Oklahoma Territory, too. But Mrs.
Shaughnessey has promised these three to Mr. Van Buren up yonder.’”

“I did no such thing!”

“Well, now Mr. Johnson didn’t
know that now, did he?” Jake’s eyes twinkled all the more.

“Jake....”

“He paid one hundred fifty for
that bay colt, and fifty dollars apiece for the fillies,” smiled Jake, holding
out a second envelope. “I probably could have got a bit more had they been
broke to saddle.” He said raising an eyebrow at her quizzically.

 Kate took the envelope
shaking her head helplessly as tears of mirth and relief streamed down her
cheeks. She had intended those colts to be sold at the local blacksmith shop
for twenty dollars each, the going rate that most cattle punchers of the
Territory would pay for unbroke stock

“It isn’t all you had expected to
get, but we come a might closer this way.” Jake laid a comforting hand on her
arm and smiled. “We will make it, Kate.”

She smiled up at him, and mutely
nodded her agreement.

“Now, let me round up Jon, and
we’ll get these stores put up right.” Jake stepped off to call his grandson,
but Kate reached out a hand to stop him.

“Jake, I just want you to know
how grateful I am for...”

“Hush now.”

“Well, at least go in and see
your wife; you and Jon get some decent food in your stomachs. You know Nana
Insley won’t let you go to work without it!” She waved him toward the porch,
“Now go.”