Not the Marrying Kind (6 page)

“Sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect by it,
sir. It’s just that where I come from, well, folks weren’t always
the most civilized.” He shut his mouth and wished he’d never made
any mention of his past. No need to invite unwanted questions.

The other man’s face suddenly turned red. He
coughed violently, slumping forward in his chair.

Joshua reacted at once. Despite the pain
shooting through his leg, he rushed toward his host, grabbed the
cigar away from the man, and stubbed it out in a well-used ashtray
on the desk.

“I think maybe your wife’s got a point,
sir.” For good measure, he extinguished his cigar as well.

Thankfully, the man’s face quickly returned
to its normal color. The coughing fit eased, and he sat upright
again. “Maybe so. Hard to admit sometimes when she’s right.” He
laughed. “Now as for Katherine, to answer your question, she’s a
good girl. She’s got a bit of a stubborn streak though. Gets it
from me, I suppose.” He glanced toward the ashtray with a longing
look, then turned to Joshua again. “She was real close to her older
brother. Followed him around, wanted to be just like him. I thought
it was a bit cute when she was little.” As he spoke, he reached for
a thick book. The family Bible, Joshua reckoned, as the man opened
it and turned to an ornately illustrated family tree. He ran his
fingers down the page and stopped at the name of Robert James
Phillips. “Born 1850. Died 1868.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Phillips.” Should he say
more? Sensing the man needed to talk about his son’s death, Joshua
pressed on. “How did it happen?”

“Drowned. Down in the old creek north of
here.”

“I know the creek.” He crossed it coming and
going to and from the Rocking P Ranch.

“Kids went to that creek every day in the
summer. One day Robb dived in, never came up again. Kat was with
him. Guess she panicked a bit, wasn’t sure what to do. She jumped
in, tried to find him, finally climbed out and came running back to
the ranch for help.”

“He hit his head on something? Lose
consciousness?”

The man’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“I don’t reckon we’ll ever fully understand what happened that
afternoon. He was a strong boy, a good swimmer. For some reason, he
just stopped breathing. Doctor Kellerman said Robb must have
blacked out, but, well, Abner wasn’t exactly sober. Never know what
to make of anything Doc Kellerman tells you.” He closed the Bible.
“Can’t question the Lord’s will, either. For whatever reason, He
saw fit to take my son.”

“I’m truly sorry.”

“But life goes on.” Phillips paused for a
moment before saying, “After Robb died, Katherine took it on
herself to work even harder around the ranch. I suspect it was a
way of easing her grief, maybe assuaging her conscience. To this
day, I think she feels it was her fault, that she should have been
able to save her brother.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Joshua said, imaging
the pain and anguish Katherine Phillips must have gone through. He
hated to see anyone go through that sort of suffering. Bad enough
to lose a loved one. Blaming yourself in any way only made it
worse.

“No, of course it wasn’t, but it seems she
was determined to make up for the loss somehow. She worked longer
and harder than any of the ranch hands. Katherine’s a fine girl,
Mr. Barron. She’s just a mite hard-headed, especially when it comes
to the Rocking P.”

“I understand.”

“Well, let’s get down to business,” the man
suggested.

“Just how much are you asking for this
ranch?” Intrigued, Joshua scooted forward.

For the next hour, the two men talked.
Phillips had a lot to say, and Joshua listened with keen attention,
now and then asking pointed questions, trying to get all the
information he needed.

When, at last, they’d signed and shaken on
their deal, Joshua got to his feet. After spending that much time
in the dark, cramped little study, he couldn’t wait to get outside
and into the light of day again. He’d had enough of closed-in,
confined spaces to last a lifetime and then some.

From the porch, he saw Katherine sitting on
the corral fence, and for a moment—before she noticed him—he took
the opportunity to study her more carefully.

Certain now that the young woman would make
a perfect wife for Cody, he wondered how he would he describe her
to his cousin. Could he ever find exactly the right words to depict
the dark, russet color of her hair, or to illustrate the way the
sunlight made her long tresses shimmer like gleaming ripples of
copper? Perhaps he would wax poetic and compare her pale blue eyes
to the clear Colorado skies, and her lips to the soft pink light
that heralded the dawn of a new day.

If only she had a bit more meat on her
bones
.

Maybe if she weren’t wearing that flannel
workshirt, or those trousers, her figure might appear a bit more
womanly. Joshua tried to imagine how she would look dressed in a
fancy gown with ruffled skirts. He frowned, realizing he actually
preferred seeing her in the trousers. Skirts and dresses would
cover up those long, slender legs. He eyed her from top to toe, his
gaze raking slowly over her.

“What are you gawking at?”

Joshua’s head snapped up. He’d been caught.
When a man didn’t have a good answer to a question, best to simply
ignore it. That was his philosophy. Grinning, he walked toward the
corral, his gait halting. He’d never found his walking stick.

“Well, missy, looks like I’ll be starting
work come Monday morning.” He stuck out a hand. “I’m your new
foreman.”

Those pale blue eyes grew paler still,
turning almost icy. “Don’t play games with me, Mr. Barron. My
father didn’t hire you.”

He quirked a brow. “I beg your pardon,
missy, but—”

“You’re lame.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“This isn’t a joke.”

“No, missy, it isn’t. I’m actually not one
to joke around, especially not on the job.”

“You’re not on the job yet.”

“No, missy, not until Monday morning.” He’d
been holding his hat, now he plopped it on his head, planted his
legs a few feet apart and stared down at her. “I do all right for a
man with a bad leg, and yes, I’ve got experience and plenty of it.”
Not really true. He’d had experience with some things. Ranching
didn’t happen to be among them, but she didn’t need to know
that.

“Longhorns?” she asked. “They’re tough
critters.”

“Yes, missy, they are.” For some reason, he
wanted to rile her, just a bit. He liked the way she ruffled so
easily.

A gust of wind rose up, whipping her long
hair around her face. She reached up, grabbed her blowing tresses
and held them back. “Look, in the first place,” she said, scowling,
“my name isn’t
Missy,
and in the second place—”

“I didn’t mean any offense by it. You look
like a
Missy
to me. Katherine, is it? Or do you prefer Miss
Phillips?”

She puffed up like a blowfish, and Joshua
fought a losing battle against his laughter. She obviously didn’t
find it funny. Standing with her arms akimbo, her head slightly
cocked, she looked exactly like a stubborn little girl. Her father
had called it right. Except that Kat was
not
a little girl.
She was a woman. He wondered if she’d figured that out yet.

“Kat,” she said. Some of her bluster blew
away.

“Huh?”

“Kat,” she repeated. “That’s what my friends
call me.”

“Does that mean we’re friends now?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Not even close.”
She stepped away, eyed him up and down, then nodded. “Be here early
Monday morning.”

* * * *

Late that night, Kat sat at the dressing
table, staring at her reflection in the mirror as she gathered her
hair and twisted it into a single braid. She wore a long white
nightgown trimmed in lace. Mama had given it to her for her
birthday, no doubt hoping it might make Kat—no, Katherine—feel more
feminine. She sighed. It hadn’t worked.

Maybe if she had a few more curves in
strategic places…or if her breasts were a bit fuller. Rising from
the upholstered bench, she turned this way and that before the
mirror, studying her lithe, flat-chested form.

Nope. She’d never make much of a woman.

But it suited Kat just fine. She didn’t want
to be a woman, didn’t want to depend on a husband to take care of
her, and sure as hell didn’t want to be a meek, submissive little
flower, fawning over a man and doing her best to please him.
Marriage was meant for timid, weak-willed women.

She frowned. That description certainly did
not fit her mother. Of course, her mother was an exception.
Strong-willed women usually didn’t fare so well in marriage, but
Kat’s parents had made it work. Maybe because both of them—her
mother and her father—were strong. They were like a team of
well-matched horses, yoked side-by-side, able to help one another
pull the load.

That sort of perfect relationship didn’t
happen often. Few men were willing to accept a woman as an equal
partner.

Nope, marriage was not in Kat’s plans. All
she wanted was to stay at the ranch, and somehow she would prove to
her father that she had the brains, if not the brawn, to run the
Rocking P. She could get help for the hard manual labor and the
tasks she was not physically able to do by herself.

Her thoughts went at once to Joshua Barron.
Why had her father hired him? Barron hardly seemed a likely
prospect for the foreman’s job.

For that matter, why had Pa changed his
mind? When she’d spoken to him before, he’d been adamant in his
refusal. After Mr. Barron came riding up to the ranch, however,
he’d quickly decided to give Kat a chance.

Of course, he’d made that decision
contingent upon a few things, had added a few conditions to the
bargain between them. Kat frowned at her reflection, wondering if
she’d done the right thing by accepting her father’s offer.

Work on the ranch by day, act like a lady at
night.

Give it her best shot, fulfill the
government contract, and if and when the cattle reached the
reservation, Pa would forget about selling the ranch and moving to
town. Life would go on as it always had at the Rocking P Ranch.

If she failed to make good on the contract?
Consequences would be unthinkable. Marry Virgil Kendrick.

A light tap-tap-tapping at the door caught
her attention. She turned away from the mirror and from her puzzled
thoughts.

“Emily? What are you doing?” she asked when
she answered the knock. Her little sister stood with her hand
outstretched.

“I heard Pa and Mama talking, but it’ll cost
you a nickel if you want me to tell you.”

Kat shook her head. “Two pennies, that’s
all.”

“Nope.” Emily folded her hands over her
chest and stuck out her lower lip. “A nickel or I won’t say a
word.”

“I don’t have a nickel, silly.”

“Yes, you do.” She edged her way into Kat’s
room, plopped onto the bed, and smiled. “I’m very observant. Mama
says that’s a good way to learn. Pay attention. Keep your eyes and
ears open. You never know what you’ll find out.”

“And what did you find out tonight? What did
Pa say after I came upstairs?” For once, Kat appreciated her little
sister’s penchant for eavesdropping.

“A nickel, Kat. You’ve got one hidden away
in your bureau drawer.”

“Do not!”

“When Mrs. Lambert asked you to run errands
for her, she paid you two bits. And you didn’t even pay your
tithing. I’m going to tell Pa, you know. He says it’s a sin to
withhold tithing. It’s like stealing from God.”

“But it’s perfectly fine to go peeking
through keyholes and listening to private conversations?” Kat’s
brows arched. “It’s all right to go snooping and sneaking
around?”

Emily smiled and stretched out her hand
again. “Do you want to hear what Pa had to say?”

“Oh, all right.” Kat pulled open the top
drawer, rummaged under the folded shirts, and dug out a five-cent
piece. She turned it over in her hands, staring at the engraved
shield on its face, then reluctantly held it out for Emily to grab.
“Now, this had better be good.”

“Well, Mama asked Pa all about that little
meeting he’d had in the office, wanted to know just what he thought
he was up to.”

“Go on,” Kat urged, scooting closer. “What
did Pa say?”

“Let me tell it my way.” Emily wore a frilly
nightdress with hand-embroidered flowers. She carefully ran her
hand over the smooth, cotton fabric, and let out a slow breath.
“Don’t rush me, Kat.”

“It’s my nickel, don’t forget. Now, spill
it.”

“Oh, all right. Mama asked Pa if he’d talked
to you. About marrying Reverend Kendrick.” She looked up. “Told you
Mama said he’d make a good husband. Anyway, Pa told her he’d talked
to you Thursday while she was gone. He told her how you ruined that
pie, too.”

“I don’t care about the pie. Get on with the
story, will you?”

“Well,” she said, letting out a dramatic
sigh, “Pa told her you’d thrown a hissy fit, got your dander up,
and went storming out of the room.”

“It wasn’t all that dramatic, really.”

“And then Pa told her about the agreement he
made with you this afternoon. After he hired that man with the bad
leg.”

She nodded. So far her nosy little sister
hadn’t revealed anything Kat didn’t already know. Certainly nothing
worth a nickel. “You’d better have something more to say, otherwise
I’m taking my money back.”

“Oh, I’ve got more. Lots more.” She turned
the nickel over in her hands. “Pa said he was going to give you a
chance to run the ranch, but only because he knows you’ll
fail.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will. Pa says he’ll make sure of
it.” Emily held the coin up and smiled. “Pa said he’ll make sure
you’ll fail, and then you’ll have to honor your part of the bargain
and marry Reverend Kendrick.” She lowered her hand, puckered up her
mouth and turned toward her older sister. “Did you really say you’d
do it, Kat? Why would you make a deal like that?”