Providence (20 page)

Jon’s eyes widened in alarm. “You
ain’t really gonna ride him, are you? Does Kate know?”

“Why wouldn’t I ride him?” Luke’s
exasperation broke through. “Someone’s got to break these colts. They’re all
just going to waste out there, and Kate won’t get a decent price for them the
way they are!” He stormed. Seeing the look on Jon’s face, he stopped. “Jon,
what is it? Why won’t she do anything with them?”

“You don’t know, do you?” Jon
asked quietly, his face somber.

“Know what?”

“Mr. Will was killed ridin’ the
colts. Miss Kate don’t want no one doin’ that no more.”

 “Oh God,” Luke exclaimed as
the realization washed over him, leaving him feeling cold and empty. “Oh, God
have mercy. I had no idea. No wonder....” He looked toward the house, the
anguish in his soul a bitter gall, as understanding dawned within him. Looking
back at Jon, he searched the fresh young face, “Jon, this is a better way. I
have yet to have one even offer to buck doing it this way. Sure it takes more
time, but they’re more willing, and far better trained when I do it like this.”

“It ain’t me you’ve got to
convince, sir.”

***

Kate sat on the soft feather bed,
praying, seeking desperately to quell the tumultuous emotions raging within
her. The sight of Luke in the breaking pen with a young horse had caused her
heart to stop for a split second. She had sent Jo in to help Nana prepare the
supper before approaching the pen to confront Luke.

Trembling from the fear that
welled within her at the memory of Will’s final ride, and angry that Luke would
defy her wishes, she spoke harshly. His response had disarmed her. His green
eyes filled with concern as he drew near. At his touch, the realization struck
her. She was falling in love with him. Overcome by the emotion, she fled.

“God, oh, God, I need you now.
How can I love this man?” she prayed. “I don’t even know who he is.”

 Confused and heavy hearted,
she rose from the bed. At her dressing table, she picked up the tin type
photograph of Will and herself on their wedding day. Running her fingers over
the image, she caressed his familiar features. Their love had grown slowly,
gaining its strength from their mutual faith in God and their trust in one
another. Will had accepted her just the way she was. He found her scars a
beautiful part of her.

“They are your badge of courage
and honor,” he had told her one night when he found her crying over her
disfigured arms. “Wear those scars proudly. They are beautiful because they
show your true heart.” His words echoed through the shadows of her memory,
clearing away the cobwebs of doubt, and a sense of peace descended upon her
heart.

She moved to the window where
delicate lace curtains hung limply in the afternoon heat. No breeze stirred,
even the birds were stilled. Kate could hear the banging of pots, and slamming
of cupboard doors from the kitchen. The low pitched murmur of voices and
occasional giggle told her that Nana and Jo were diligently working on the
preparations for the branding.

From the window, she could see
Jake planning the roasting pit. The steer was to be slaughtered tomorrow. Jon
already had the wood chopped and stacked neatly waiting for the pit to be dug.
She smiled weakly at the everyday sights and sounds. This was her family, her
life was here. What part in that did Luke play?

 At the thought of his name,
she looked toward the breaking pen, just visible from her window. She watched
intently for several minutes. Luke worked the colt slowly and steadily. What
exactly was he trying to accomplish, she wondered. She had never seen anything
like the intricate maneuvers being performed by man and horse.

Kate believed in working with the
foals from the day they were born, touching them, talking to them, gentling
them when they were small. Then they were turned out until they were ready to
break. The time she spent with the babies showed in their easy going natures,
but at breaking time, it was always the same, catch them, snub them up to the
post, throw a saddle on, climb aboard and ride the buck out of them. Some had
more than others, and she always watched to see which of the colts and fillies
were the easy ones, keeping those as potential breeding stock, and selling the
rest.

Will had always taken great
delight in breaking the young stock himself. Kate’s heart had paused a beat
every time he climbed on one of them, but she never voiced her fears to him,
sure that they were unfounded. The moment it happened, she knew that she would
never allow another colt to be ridden on her place. She’d sell them unbroke,
even if it meant losing money on them. She knew the breeding and cow sense on
her colts was enough to build a reputation, let someone else take the risk on
their backs.

 Her anger subsided as she watched
Luke and the buckskin from her bedroom window. Interest in his methods
intrigued her in spite of her fears. She could see the tension leaving the
horse as trust began to replace the fear evident in the animal’s bearing. She
remained at the window until Luke took the colt out of the pen and lead him
into the barn.

Curiosity overcame her. She let
herself out through the front door so as not to disturb Nana and Jo, and walked
to the barn her heart pounding in rhythm to her quick strides.

Through the open door, she could
see Luke standing at the horse’s shoulder. His back was turned toward her, but
she could hear the soothing sound of his low-pitched voice as he spoke to the
buckskin. He brushed the gleaming coat with long sweeping strokes, working in a
steady rhythm. The horse stood in docile repose, head low and relaxed, his eyes
half closed listening to the man murmuring beside him, calmed by the gentle
stroking.

Kate leaned against the rough
wooden frame of the barn. The western sun cast its rays through the window in
the loft. The dapple of golden light and purple shadow across the man and colt
blended them into a picture of perfect harmony.

She watched as Luke continued his
gentling process. He ran one hand firmly down the length of the colt’s front
leg, then went back to the grooming. The horse picked up his head, and flinched
slightly at the unfamiliar touch. After Luke repeated the action several times,
the buckskin accepted it as natural and returned to a relaxed state. He began
the same motion on a rear leg, but the colt hardly seemed to notice it this
time.

 Pausing for a moment, Luke
rested his forehead against the colt’s flank. The rough muslin shirt he wore
clung damply to his back following the curves of muscles built and strengthened
by years of hard labor. His skin was bronzed by the sun, and his dark hair
gleamed in the evening light showing golden glints throughout. Kate watched
silently, drinking in the sight of him, her senses filled to overflowing. The
scent of sweat and sweet hay mingled together, tickling her nose, as the sun
warmed her back and a gentle breeze stirred her hair. A dove cooed softly from
the rafters, and Raven nickered to her from his stall.

“Luke?” Though little more than a
whisper, the word rang loud in her ears as anticipation knotted her stomach.

The buckskin raised his head and
twitched his ears in her direction, and she could see Luke’s shoulders tighten
as she spoke.

“Luke, I wanted to
-
to apologize.” Kate waited. There was no response,
though she sensed a change in him. “We need to talk.”

When he turned to face her, his
green eyes were filled with compassion and wet with unshed tears. “You don’t
owe me an apology, Kate. I had no idea. Jon told me.” His voice thick with
emotion.

 Kate’s heart pounded. Her
eyes riveted on his as she struggled to gain control of her emotions. In two
quick strides he was standing before her, clasping both of her small hands in
one of his. She caught her breath and her nostrils filled with his earthy
scent. He traced the line of her jaw with one finger, cupping her cheek gently
in the palm of his hand he drew her to him, kissing her tenderly on the
forehead. She closed her eyes and drew in a shuddering breath as she laid her
head on his shoulder and felt his arms go around her in a warm, protective
embrace.

***

“Momma? Momma, where are you?
Nana says to come to supper.” Jo’s voice called from the garden moments later.

Loosening his embrace, Luke
stepped back. Kate’s head remained bowed, her eyes closed. Reaching out, he
lifted her chin with his finger. As her eyes met his, she smiled a beautiful,
radiant smile that cast all doubt from his mind. Swallowing hard, he reached
out and took her arm to escort her to dinner.

“What about your horse?” she
asked, indicating the buckskin still standing quietly tied to the rail.

The words ‘your horse’ struck
home and he smiled. “He’ll be fine for now. We’ll come out later and see to
him.”

Kate watched Jonathan lead his
old sorrel mare into the barn in the dim light of dawn. Smokey padded silently
behind, faithful to his young master. Rio and Gypsy stood at the corral fence,
saddled for the round up. They waited patiently, ears twitching at the sounds
of morning, occasionally swishing a tail at the ever present flies.

Jon prepared to heave his ancient
leather saddle on the mare’s back, when Kate stepped out of the shadows and
laid a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you turn old Sally out. She deserves a rest
after all the years she’s put in.” Kate could see the crestfallen look on Jon’s
face. “I think today would be the perfect opportunity to try out your new
horse,” she added quickly, as Luke entered the barn leading a small bay gelding
and handed the lead to Jon.

The boy’s eyes shone brightly as
he struggled for words. “You mean, he’s mine, Miss Kate? All mine? Really
mine?”

 “I thought it was about
time you had a good cow pony of your own. After all, Sally has been hauling you
around most of your life, and she wasn’t young when she started doing that. I
think it’s time she earned her retirement, don’t you?”

Jon spoke not a word as he ran
his hand over the gelding’s coppery coat, fingering the silky ebony mane.

“He’s about ten or eleven, we’ve
used him before on the ranch here, maybe you remember Will riding him for a
couple of years?” Kate continued.

“Yes, ma’am, I do. He’s a fine
horse. Does he have a name?”

“Funny thing, we always just
called him Jesse’s bay colt, because we bought him from Jesse McDonald, do you
remember him?”

“I think so. Isn’t he the man
that ‘steaded the quarter section down south, then sold out to Mr. Will the
year after?” Jon asked.

“That’s right. What do you think
you’ll call him?”

“Well, maybe I’ll jest call him
Jesse since he probably already knows that.”

“Jesse it is then.” Kate said.

Leaving the boy to saddle his
horse, she took Sally and turned her out to the tall grass pasture. Luke joined
her at the gate, and they stood together watching the old mare trot out and
flag her tail like a filly with the scent of new grass filling her nostrils for
the first time.

 “She deserves this. That
old mare has hauled him around faithfully for the last ten years. Why, I’ll bet
she’s twenty-five years old or better.” From the corner of her eye, Kate could
see Luke watching her and shaking his head. “What?”

“I still can’t get used to the
sight of you in mens’ clothes,” he said with a grin.

“Well, it may not be feminine,
but it’s a lot more practical for what we have to do today.” She wore Levis, a pale
blue cotton shirt, a brown woolen vest with large roomy pockets, and worn
leather boots. Her hat hung down her back by the stampede string, and a pair of
deerskin gloves were tucked into her belt. Thick brown hair was caught up in a
ribbon at the nape of her neck, but unruly curls insisted on escaping, framing
her face in a wreath of soft tresses.

“Oh, I’d say on you the effect
was utterly feminine.” Luke reached out and caught one of the wayward curls,
tucking it behind her ear. His touch sent a thrill through her, and she closed
her eyes and stepped away, not yet ready to face the flood of emotions that
were still so new.

She sighed softly. “We’d better
get moving if we’re going to get them all in today.”

 They returned to the barn
to find Jon tightening the girth on the saddle of his new pony, and eager to
start the day’s trip. Kate and Luke went over their own tack one last time,
checking bridles, bits and tightening girths. Stiff lariats were tied near the
pommels and each saddle had a holster carrying a Winchester ‘73 carbine. Luke
wore a gun belt with Will’s Colt .45 in it. The sight of the armament worried
Kate, but she knew it was necessary. There had been no further incidents in the
last couple of days, but the threat was real and they couldn’t be too careful.

They rode through the morning
mist over emerald fields, Jon loping far ahead, then trotting back to where
Luke and Kate rode together in companionable silence. Smokey followed along,
tongue lolling, chasing the occasional rabbit, and returning with a doggy grin
on his face to ride again by Jonathan’s side.

“He’s going to wear that poor
pony to a nubbin before the morning is over,” Kate observed with an indulgent
smile.