Let sleeping dogs lie, Katherine. Don’t be digging this up again. Alex told you why. Be satisfied with that.
But could she be?
At that point she turned her thoughts away. She had everything she had ever wanted, yet the joy of it was like a cold, sculptured thing, beautiful but lifeless like a mask. How she wished Fanny were here to talk to. But she had asked Fanny the same question and Fanny had said to not question the workings of fate. Besides, Fanny was another part of the past that was gone to her. She had been through much in her life, but now she seemed to be at the crossroads, a moment of distress and trial where a premonition of tragedy was difficult to shake.
You aren’t the first person this has happened to. We all have our own little devils that torment us until we face them down.
But no matter how hard she tried, the sense of dread would return. When would she be able to face her own torment? Would she emerge finer and stronger, tempered and happily secure, once it was over? Or would she live with heartache and regret, the question unanswered for the rest of her life?
Often she would call herself nine kinds of a fool for rushing into marriage this way, before she put her mind at rest. Was she wrong to love him so much that she was willing to live with her devils, never knowing, rather than risk not having him at all?
She had talked to no one about this ever, save Fanny. A smile curled across her face like the happy curve of a cat’s tail.
Dear Fanny. How I must have driven her to distraction with my questions, my doubts.
Her mind spun backwards, to the day before she left for San Francisco.
“For a woman who has just been given something she has waited half her life for, you don’t seem as happy as I would have thought,” Fanny said, catching Katherine coming out of the henhouse with a basket of eggs on her arm. Fanny fell into step beside her. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
Fanny raised her arms, pleading heavenward. “Lord help us. The last time you did any thinking I found you trying to fry boiled eggs.”
“I didn’t realize they were boiled.”
“Because you lose touch when you’re thinking. I’ve never seen anyone think like you do. Lord, you go into a coma.” Her tone turned serious. “So, you were thinking? What about?” She took the basket as Katherine opened the gate.
“Why do you think Alex asked me to marry him and not Karin?”
“Don’t question the workings of fate. As the saying goes, ‘A wise man turns chance into good fortune.’ Besides, not all questions
need
to be answered. Now I ask you, what difference does it make
why
Alex asked you? There could be a hundred reasons, there could be none. He asked you.
That’s
what’s important here. Not why. Don’t question the workings of fate.” She shook her head as Katherine took the basket back from her. “You know, people are such fools when it comes to love. Here you are driving yourself to distraction with a question that, put to Alex…well, he probably couldn’t answer it himself.”
“Wouldn’t you wonder…if you were me, I mean?”
“Not any more than I would question God’s wisdom. He made mosquitoes, but I’ve never asked Him why.”
Katherine laughed. “That’s a poor parallel.”
“Not really. You think about it. God made mosquitoes, pesky little devils that they are. What’s important is that they’re here and we have to learn to live with them, best we can. That doesn’t change one whit whether we know why God made them or not.”
Now, Katherine was a patient woman—to a point. But enough was enough. And in her book she had had enough. She had spent the earlier part of the afternoon in her cabin, thinking. She made a surprising discovery; she, who had imagined all her life what it would be like to be married to Alex, had missed the boat with her imaginings. She gave a small angry snort. Marriage to Alex wasn’t what she imagined at all, in fact
marriage
in general wasn’t what she imagined. She gave another snort—this one of disgust, directed toward herself.
All right. So, your husband isn’t being too attentive. At least you
have
a husband. After all, you knew it was Karin he had always loved. Just because he asked you to come doesn’t necessarily mean he’s forgotten all about Karin.
That sounded reasonable.
Remember the time you saw the most beautiful pair of ice-blue satin slippers?
Katherine nodded.
Do you remember what your mother said when you said you wanted them?
Katherine nodded.
She said those slippers were lovely to look at, but not very practical. And then? She convinced me we should buy those ugly brown shoes that buttoned halfway up my leg.
Katherine shuddered, remembering the incident in vivid color, and remembered too, her disappointment over not getting the lovely blue satin slippers. To this day she had not forgotten those slippers; or the tiny clusters of sparkling crystals on the toes; or the way she had been talked out of them. She also remembered how she felt. She felt wronged. She felt angry and cheated, ready to kick the first person she saw. Whenever she wore those ugly, brown shoes she did her best to scuff them, going out of her way to stomp through mud puddles and kick rocks. She took all her anger out on those shoes, when it hadn’t been the shoes’ fault at all.
Those ice-blue satin slippers are like Karin is to Alex. He chose you, because you were sturdy and strong like those
—Katherine stopped right here, determined not to allow herself to be compared to those ugly, brown, high-top shoes.
That’s just Karin’s luck—
she
gets to be the dainty, ice-blue satin slippers. I get to be the clumsy boots.
Funny thing, minds are, they don’t always do as they’re told, so Katherine went on thinking.
Alex was wise and chose the brown high-tops, but like you, he hasn’t forgotten those blue satin slippers, no matter how impractical they were. Now, you can get back at him by being a pair of stiff, uncomfortable brown shoes that rub blisters on his heel and pinch his toe, or you can be of the softest leather, durable and weather-resistant; something to make his job easier and give him comfort. Well? What’s it going to be?
I’m thinking.
She was thinking about Alex and the way he had looked this morning when they had strolled the decks. She didn’t remember much of the conversation, because she was seeing how the color of the sea matched his eyes, and the way the wind ruffled his hair. Several times she had caught him staring out across the water. “What are you thinking?” she had asked.
“Nothing,” was his reply.
Karin
, she thought.
Funny, but whenever she thought he might be thinking of Karin, Katherine didn’t get mad, she didn’t feel angry. She felt…tenacious. Karin might have Alex’s thoughts.
But I’ve got Alex
. She wasn’t about to give him up either. This was one prize she intended to keep. He was the summation of a hundred million dreams; everything she had ever wanted in a man: warm, kind, thoughtful, funny, gentle, strong when he had to be, a lover of the land.
Katherine thought about the way she had come to him. The hand of Providence was in all of this, she knew that much. God had given this wonderful man to her, and the devil was already trying to take him away. He was hers. And by golly, she meant to keep him.
Hell hath no fury
…as the saying goes.
Thinking helped for a while. Before long Katherine was feeling restless, and she wanted to see Alex. When she found Adrian on deck after being chased up there by Captain Steptoe during one of their blessed but infrequent lulls in the rain, she made her way toward him. Alex was nowhere in sight.
Adrian was sitting on a coil of rope, one leg stretched out before him, the other bent, his hand holding a whetstone balanced over his knee, a knife in his other hand. “Didn’t you just sharpen that knife the other day?” she asked.
“That was my knife. This one belongs to Alex.”
She looked around. The deck was deserted except for the first mate at the helm and a few seamen scattered about. Even Captain Steptoe had vanished. “Where is Alex?”
“Alex?” He shrugged. “He’s around here someplace.”
“Thank you,” she said. “That was most informative.” She watched him rub the knife’s blade against the whetstone in rapid, circular strokes. “Adrian, why did Alex ask me to marry him?”
Adrian’s head snapped up, his hand frozen in place. He studied her face for a moment before answering with a sort of helpless wrath. “Don’t you think you should ask Alex?”
“I did.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he married me because he wanted a wife.”
“Then believe him.”
“But…”
“Katherine, scripture says I’m my brother’s keeper. I am not privy to his thoughts. Do you think Alex tells me everything that goes through his mind?”
“No, but couldn’t you take a guess?”
“I could.”
After a moment of silence, she said, “But you won’t. Is that it?”
“Look,” Adrian said, laying the knife and whetstone to one side and rising to his feet, “a guess would be no more than that—a guess. Guesses and suppositions are all gray. Reality is the green of the grass, the sky’s blueness, the red in your hair. You’re sitting on a rainbow, Katherine. Enjoy it. Don’t rob yourself of the moment by wondering how you got there.”
“But wouldn’t you wonder?”
“No. If the woman I loved married me I would count my blessings and spend the rest of my life making sure she never regretted it, not making myself miserable to the point that she did. When you keep on asking questions you can’t avoid the answers. Tread carefully, sweet Katherine, or you may discover more than you wish. Don’t unearth a burial ground digging for a potato.”
She sighed, propping her elbows on the railing. “You think I should just forget it then?”
Adrian laughed. “Jumping Jehoshaphat! If I didn’t know better I’d swear you were too dumb to ride a horse and chew tobacco at the same time. Of course that’s that I’ve been saying.”
She smiled at him, feeling just a little foolish. “I don’t chew tobacco,” she said, “but I notice you still do.”
He tapped her on the nose. “And I’m not about to quit, so don’t get technical. You know what I mean.”
She did, of course, and when she opened her mouth to speak, he placed his finger over her lips. “Katherine, Katherine, what a tempting sprite you are. If you weren’t a married woman…”
“Oh, posh!” she said, giving him a whack on the arm. “I don’t kiss men who chew tobacco.”
“Maybe I’ll quit, then.”
“Too late for that,” she said, laughing.
“Too late,” he said softly. “The story of my life.”
“Adrian, do you think Alex…”
He laughed and placed his fingers over her mouth to silence her. “You’re a nosy, talkative lass, I’ll say that much.”
“I just can’t help wondering.”
“Wondering is okay, as long as you don’t overdo it. When you do, it’s like laying bricks over the road to happiness.” He paused and placed his hands on Katherine’s arms, turning her toward him. “Keep making yourself miserable with all this wondering and you’ll make him miserable as well.”
“I’d have to see him to do that. He hasn’t exactly been my shadow for the past two days.”
“Small wonder.”
She stared at him, her eyes wide with apprehension. “What do you mean by that?”
“You haven’t exactly made yourself into a person one would want to shadow. I can’t blame him for not wanting to be around you.”
“What have I done?”
“Nothing.”
She could see the teasing light in his eyes and she gave him a shove. “Stop teasing and give me an answer.”
“I did, truthfully. You haven’t done much of anything, and that’s the problem.” He laughed. “Katherine, if I’ve ever seen a face that had a steady forecast of rain, it’s been yours.”
“How can you say that, Adrian?”
“How? Katherine, you’ve been as gloomy as the devil.”
“Maybe that’s because I am.”
“You may be, but you don’t have to
look
that way.”
“I don’t…do I?”
“I’m afraid you do. I’m not one to give advice, but if I were you I’d try to stand out like a ray of sunshine against all these gray clouds and rain, not do my damnest to blend in with them.” She looked like she didn’t follow what he was saying. “That dress,” he said. “It’s worse than drab.”
Now she looked miffed. He could almost see her drawing her feelers in. “I don’t have anything to wear but my old gloomy dresses.”
“That’s because you’re too busy being miserable to notice what’s going on around you. You have more choice than you think, you just haven’t bothered to look.”
“A lot of good that would do. All I’d see around here is more indifference and more rain.”
He sighed. “I said I wasn’t going to get myself involved in this.” He looked heavenward. “Isn’t that what I said? And now look at me. Jumping in with both feet, I am.” He took her by the arm. “Come with me. I want to show you something. And then, by God, I’m staying out of this.”
He led her to her cabin and once they were inside, he went to the wall of drawers and louvered cabinets, opening several of them. Katherine’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. Inside two of the cabinets hung several dresses—six to be exact. Another cabinet held a blue wool cape and matching bonnet. The drawers were filled with all manner of things a woman would need: undergarments, stockings, mittens, a fan or two, a drawstring pouch, handkerchiefs, toilet water, a hand mirror, milled soap, talcum powder. She closed the last drawer and turned toward Adrian in wonder. “Alex?”
“Who else?”
“Where did he get these things?”
“Captain Steptoe. He has several crates of clothing he’s taking back East.”
“When?” she asked. “When did he do this?”
“Is that important?”
“Yes. It is.”
“Yesterday, after your marriage.”
“Oh, Adrian, I’m so ashamed. When he came back last night, I didn’t know.”
He laughed. “Cheer up. You’ve got the rest of your life to tell Alex. Better yet, why not show him?” He went to the door and paused, giving her a wink. “Keep your hook baited.”