Katherine looked up, seeing Adrian was standing next to Karin. Feeling the heat rush to her face, she wished she could disappear. Adrian, bless his dear soul, must have sensed this, for he said, “Well, bless my bones, Alex! If I’d known something this pretty was going to be cleaning the kitchen, I’d have sent you to town.” He let his eyes travel over her and then let out a long whistle. “How are you, Katherine?”
“Passable,” she said. “And you?”
“A lot better since I parked my sore eyes on you. You’re looking…well, blast it, Katherine, you’re downright beautiful.”
She smiled, thanking him with her eyes even before she spoke. “Why, thank you, Adrian. Although I don’t believe a word of it, and I haven’t forgotten what a flatterer you are, it’s wonderful to hear.”
“It’s the gospel truth,” he said.
“Well, whatever,” she said, picking up her dust rag. “Here I am wasting time when there’s work to be done.”
“Why don’t you take a little rest, Katherine?” Alex said. “I’m going to take Karin for a little walk. I don’t feel right about you doing all the work.”
“Oh, that’s all right, Alex. You’d do the same for me, if I had a beau here I hadn’t seen in nigh on four years.” Katherine took the last towel out of her basket, closed the lid and turned back. It was then that she noticed she and Adrian were alone, for Karin and Alex had left the room. “I’ll see to the back rooms now,” she said, leaving without looking at Adrian again.
Some time later Katherine was working in Adrian and Alex’s old room, her knee braced on the mattress as she leaned across it to tuck the patchwork quilt in between the wall and bed on the other side.
“I always thought you’d look good in my bed,” Adrian said, giving her a sad, twisted smile when she jumped a country mile and exclaimed:
“Adrian Mackinnon! You scared the living daylights out of me! You should know better than to sneak up on a body like that!” Katherine backed off the bed and turned toward Adrian.
But Adrian couldn’t say anything. Katherine was truly the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon. Even now, with her hair coming down out of its knot, her face dotted with perspiration, a smudge or two of dust on her cheek, she was pure perfection. She was seductive and tempting as hell with the sun glinting off her hair, her mouth round and open with breathless surprise, her eyes wide as she looked him over.
But it hadn’t taken him a second to see she still had eyes only for his brother. That thought made him smile sadly, his hand coming out to cup her cheek. “If I had you,” he said softly, “I would be the happiest man on earth.”
A pain wrenched her heart and at that moment, Katherine wished with all her might that she could somehow come to love Adrian. But he was like a brother to her and the thought of anything more seemed a violation, almost sacrilege. That was just it. She did love him. Like a brother. “Oh, Adrian, I wish…”
His fingers came up to silence her. “I know,” he said with a look of regret. “We both seem to want the same thing—I want you and you want to want me. They sound so close, but in truth, they’re oceans apart.”
Tears ran down her face and her heart reached out to him. Strange, but at that moment, she felt closer to Adrian than she ever had. “I wish I knew what to say.”
“I know.”
“Oh, I hate this! I hate it! I hate this feeling,” she said, pressing her fists into her stomach as if by so doing she could make the hurt go away. “I hate it because it’s so painful.” She reached into her pocket for her handkerchief, bringing it up to her eyes.
“Yes,” he said softly while looking away, “it is.” With a long, exhaled sigh, he said, “You can’t imagine what it’s like to love from behind prison bars, knowing you’ll never be freed.”
Her look was sad, regretful. “We seem to have a lot in common, you and I.”
“No, sweet Katherine, we don’t. To have loved but been rejected is like being sent to bed with no supper; it’s nothing more than a bee bite to one’s spirit. But to love and be overlooked is to die slowly by starvation, like soap that wastes away, giving up a little of itself with each washing.”
“Oh, Adrian, why must life be so miserable?” she asked in a dismal way while hunting for a dry spot on her handkerchief.
“I’m not sure, but I don’t think even God goes through eternity without feeling some pain. Now dry your eyes and stop sniveling.”
“I never snivel,” she said, the sound coming through blocked nasal passages.
He smiled, taking the handkerchief from her and blotting her face, then putting it to her nose. “Blow,” he said, and she did. “Ahhh, Katherine, what a torment you’ve always been.” He folded the handkerchief and handed it to her, watching her poke it back into her pocket. “Life’s a road with one bump after another, but you’re going to make it. Have no fear about that.”
“Sometimes I wonder.”
“Say now,” he said, “aren’t you the girl who gave the address to the eighth grade class? ‘Misery bridled becomes strength,’ I believe was your title. A bit dramatic, if I remember, but well done.”
“You remember that?” He nodded and she gave him a tentative smile. “You’ll make it too, Adrian. I know you will.”
He grinned and chucked her under the chin. “Of course I will. I’ve never doubted it. One of these days I’ll be something to see all right, a real sight for sore eyes, and then you’ll look at me and say, I wish I had loved him when I had the chance.”
“Oh, Adrian, I’ve already said that.”
The silence was empty, chilled, and obstinate. Katherine realized with dismay that what she said was true. Oh, how she did wish she could love Adrian as she loved his brother. She watched him look like he was about to speak, then turn and leave. After he had gone she remained behind for some time, sitting on the side of his bed, looking around the bare room where Alex and Adrian had slept so many nights.
When she had done all she could see to do, Katherine packed her basket and went outside, thinking she had a dozen things to do when she got home. There were chickens to feed, eggs to gather, cows to be milked, vegetables to tend, and… She drew up short. Clovis and the wagon were nowhere in sight.
She decided Karin must have taken him, and because of her excitement, her haste to get home and fancy herself up for Alex, she simply forgot. She sighed, looking around. Katherine knew it wasn’t a conscious decision on Karin’s part to be hateful or mean. She was the high-spirited kind who too often found herself swept up into the ecstasy of the moment. Whenever that happened, she just never thought that far ahead, never considered that there might be someone else to take into account before she acted. At times, Karin could act like she was the only living, breathing soul who walked upon the face of the earth.
With a sigh of resignation, Katherine thrust out her hip and balanced her basket against it and set out walking. Walking was something she was accustomed to, but today, she would have preferred to ride. Thankfully, it was a short distance—as the crow flies. She guessed she should count her blessings, instead of complaining. Wasn’t the weather custom-ordered and hadn’t Alexander Mackinnon come back home? What more could she ask for? By the time she was through the gate, she decided to go as the crow would fly and cut across the pasture instead of taking the road, thus saving herself quite a bit of shoe leather. Her green eyes were serious as she set out across the pasture late that afternoon.
It had been a hard week and a long day and Katherine was plumb tuckered out—bone tired as her mother would have said. But soon, the blue haze that scarfed the green slopes, the softest of breezes that whispered, elflike, through the pecan trees, the rippling splendor of a hundred varieties of swaying grasses and wildflowers that dotted the fields with bright color soon proved they were of stronger interest than thoughts of fatigue. Helping her renewed good cheer along was the fact that Katherine was not the kind of person to be bogged down in drudgery of any form for very long. Trying to keep Katherine’s spirits low would be like trying to hold Clovis’s nose to the ground—it was possible, but not for long. Soon, the tired, worn slump to her shoulders slipped away, and Katherine, her feet moving more lightly now, her eyes dancing over the flowers ahead, would pause to pick a handful here and there, poking the ones she could no longer carry in her basket.
As she covered the distance between the two homesteads, her mind floated about as fast as the splendid mass of white fluffy clouds overhead, and soon she was speculating once again on the possibilities of Alexander Mackinnon coming to his senses and loving the one woman in the world capable of loving him as no other woman could. It was plain as a sheet that the woman she spoke of was not her sister Karin.
If she were prone to stick to the obvious and forego fancy—something that must be said in all honesty Katherine rarely did unless she was forced to—it wasn’t too likely that Alexander Mackinnon would ever come to his senses as far as loving Karin was concerned; but one never knew what odd little quirks of fate, what sudden, unannounced twists lay in the road of life just ahead. Stranger things had happened, to be sure. Katherine had more than enough rose-tinted pictures of what life between herself and Alex would be like if fate would just see things her way, and she was lost smack in the middle of the most delicious scene a few months hence, as Alex carried her into his bedroom and dropped her in the middle of his bed, quickly stripping her wedding finery from her body, including everything from something borrowed to something new, all the way down to the last pearl earring. Just exactly what he was going to do once he had stripped her of her finery was still hidden in the rose-tinted fog, but Katherine knew as certain as the Texas flag had one star that it would be something more thrilling than the touch of his hand upon hers. She was submerged in the vision of Alex paying homage to her body, as the good reverend was fond of saying, all the while hopeful that
paying homage
meant more than simply lighting candles at her feet, when suddenly her reverie was shattered by a loud war whoop and a splash.
Not being one to ignore what was going on around her, Katherine directed her steps toward the pecan grove that ran along the creek, which happened to be where the whoop and splash had come from.
Fighting her way through the tangle of woodbine, Katherine parted the twisted maze of vines in time to see the water-drenched head of Alexander Mackinnon break the surface. A quick glance told her Karin was nowhere around, so that must mean Alex had come here to take a bath, as the Mackinnon boys were known to do when the weather was warm. In the past, Katherine and Karin had kept plenty of distance between themselves and the creek whenever the Mackinnons went for a swim. However, Katherine was of a more curious nature now, and besides, she was already here, wasn’t she?
Stupefied, she watched in awe as Alex swam to and fro, crossing the small stream several times before leaving the water—if leaving the water wasn’t too tame a phrase to describe the manner in which a full-grown, splendidly developed, naked-as-the-day-he-was-born male steps from a watery cloak into full view. He was close enough that Katherine could see the tiny golden hairs that covered his body in all the places hairs of another type did not grow.
Saints above and angels too!
She had never seen, nor imagined anything like it. Her heart was thumping so loud she was certain he could hear it, and her head had built up so much pressure, every ounce of blood in her body must have rushed there. She had a sudden inkling of what paying
homage
was all about, for she had a feeling she wanted to do just that, and it was no mere urge. He moved as fluidly as water running over rocks to his clothes, then turned to look across the creek when he heard something on the opposite bank.
Saint Sebastian! He was beautiful from every angle
. How had she always thought the female body would far surpass that of a male? One look at the firm, smooth skin stretched over softly rounded muscle told her this was not so. When he turned full toward her and she saw that part of him no mere fig leaf could hide, she was surprised that she felt many, many things, but afraid or embarrassed was not among them.
Oh, Alex, you are beautiful.
Afraid to breathe lest he might hear her, Katherine remained in the exact position she had been in until Alex dressed and left. Once he had gone, she crawled from her tangled bower and hurried home, not distracted in the least this time by any of the finery mother nature had put in her way. As she walked home she tried to conjure up some sort of remorse, some form of shame for what she had done, but none seemed to be coming, and it was a good thing, for in truth, she didn’t rightly feel she had committed any sin or done any wrong. For where was the wrong in staring at the naked body of one’s beloved? Had it been Adrian’s body she had seen, or any other male for that matter, she would have been embarrassed. But with Alex, things were different. How she wished—wished with all her tender young heart that Alex would one day look at her as she had looked at him.
Katherine climbed through the fence, where the road forked off to the Simon place. Suddenly, something down the road a piece caught Katherine’s eye. Clovis and the wagon were angled across the ditch that edged the road. Coming closer, she could see Clovis was grazing the tender green shoots of grass that grew so lush where the water from the last rain had collected. One look at the lead rope told her Karin hadn’t taken the wagon on home as she first thought. Clovis had chewed the rope in two and wandered off on his own.
Giving him a scolding, she climbed into the wagon and started down the road. When she reached the house, she saw Karin coming out the gate, carrying the shovel in her hand, and looking on the verge of a fit. Katherine was about to inquire about the shovel, when she put her hand over her mouth to hold back her laughter, for suddenly the idea of a fit being something one could throw seemed odd, even funny. Rocks one could throw. Clovis threw his shoes. Dice could be thrown, and horseshoes, too. But a fit? She wondered how that phrase came to be.
Katherine never did get to pursue that thought further, for Karin rounded on her the moment she pulled the wagon to a halt. The sight of Katherine’s apparent good humor sent her into a red rage—
a red
rage being the worst possible sort of rage.