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‘How inconvenient. The rock had been poised there since Creation Day, just waiting for Katherine to come along?’

‘To tell the truth, I was—’

‘Aha! You were. You dropped the rock on her foot, did you?’

‘Damnit, yes! I dropped the rock on her foot! And there’s no use you trying to give me a guilt-trip. I’ve been on one ever since the accident. Yes. I dropped a rock on Katherine’s foot, and broke it—the foot, I mean.’

‘I know what you mean. And you needn’t curse at me, young man. And then wasn’t there something about pushing her into the swimming pool?’

‘No, Grandmother!’ Katie was unable to hold back the wail of anguish. Nor was she so stupid that she didn’t know what it revealed of her own feelings. ‘Not Harry. He didn’t push me in. He jumped in after me and saved my life.’

‘That’s something to his credit,’ the old woman commented. ‘I was beginning to think it was all coming out on the wrong side of the ledger. Now then, young man, show me around this place while Katie fixes a meal. Worst thing in the world, having a man hanging around the kitchen.’

The two of them went off together. Katie made her initial preparations, and then sat down at the table to console herself. Harry’s plan had certainly been derailed, but who would ever think that Grandma would come all the way up here? It was hard not to giggle, and yet—she didn’t feel particularly happy about it at all. It had almost seemed when Eloise went on her way, that the road to happiness was completely clear. Then we meet this other roadblock—‘I’m not the marrying kind!’ Well,
I
am, Katie mumbled as she got up to finish the potato salad.
I
am. He wants me, and the only way he’s going to get me is—my bedroom is just down the hall from the altar! That’s what Aunt Becky said all the time—but she’s still a spinster! Oh Lord. Maybe I don’t feel all that strong about the formalities. Maybe I just want him myself—just that, with no trimmings!

Their return startled her. She glanced at the clock. It had been a good two hours she had sat there mooning, unable to come to any real decision, but—just slightly— wishing that Harry’s plan might have worked! She climbed up on to her crutches and started the steaks.

‘We’ll stay the night, and tomorrow we’ll leave for Ohio.’ Grandmother was sitting in Aunt Grace’s rocking chair in the living room, after having expounded at length on how good a cook Katie was, and how wonderful with children. Katie sat on the forward edge of her straight-backed chair, trying to find some way to cut off the excess of remembrances. Harry relaxed on the couch, sprawled out in a half-sitting position, and eating it all up. Until Grandmother, watching his face, threw him another curveball.

‘There’s nothing wrong with toy-making,’ she said. ‘You’ve got some fine toys in the cellar there. Lots of money to be made in toys these days. The market is always ready for something new. But you would have to stick to it, you understand, if you expect to be able to support a family. Did I mention, Katie, that Harry wants a large family? Good thing, that, if you can afford it.’

Katie’s face turned instant scarlet. What sort of an answer can you give to a statement like that? She fidgeted in her chair, tucking at her skirt, crossing her feet at the ankles, twisted both hands together in her lap.

‘Or is it, Mr King,’ her grandmother continued speculatively, ‘that you’re after the poor girl’s money?’

‘Well really—’ Katie sputtered. ‘Really, Grandmother. There isn’t all that much to begin with! What a thing to say!’

‘Best said than left behind the door,’ her grandmother offered. ‘Or—can it be that you’re after
my
money, sonny?’

From across the room Katie could see him turn red, and then purple, as he made a massive effort to stave off comment. She scrambled up from her chair and took two faltering steps in his direction, but he held up a hand, palm open, in the age-old stop signal. She sighed, and backed up to her chair again.

‘No, ma’am,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘I never did know that you had any money, and if you did, no idea that Katie might get it. Please believe me, Mrs Russel. I have no designs on your grandchild’s money.’

‘Huh!’ the old lady snorted. ‘That’s as may be, young man. But you’ve got designs on
something.
Lucky that I arrived today. Mind you, I have a barrel full of grandchildren, but Katie is the pick of the litter. I think well of my Katherine. And you can rest assured, when my time comes, Katie will get all my money. Every cent. Now then, it’s growing late, and I’ve been up since early dawn this day. And at my age, I need my sleep.’

Katie got up as her grandmother did. ‘I’ll go with you to your room,’ she suggested. The old lady had been assigned Eloise’s old room, and the stairs were steep. Katie hobbled out as far as the hallway, where the old lady seized her arm.

‘He’s an arrogant, domineering man,’ her grandmother hissed in her ear. ‘If you give him an inch you’ll never own your own life again. With that sort of man you fight all the time, rear up on your hind legs and let him know who’s boss!’

‘You don’t like him, Grandma?’ She felt an immediate sense of sorrow. That
some
people might not like Harry, this she could believe. But not Grandmother. They were too much alike, this old lady and herself. And it strangely hurt to think—

‘Well, now,’ her grandmother added gruffly, ‘I don’t need your help out here, little miss. Dry up those tears. Go back and make your goodbyes. We won’t have much time in the morning.’ Her grandmother chucked her under the chin and steamed off for the stairs.

Harry was standing in the middle of the room, his eyes glued to the door, when she came back. He relaxed when he saw she was alone, and a smile flashed across his face, settling down into that wide grin. What was it that his sister had said? He uses that grin to hide behind when he’s uncertain? Huh!

‘A whirlwind of a woman,’ he said. She watched his eyes. It
did
seem that only his teeth were grinning, as if there was a flood of doubt in his eyes. ‘Is that how you’re going to look in sixty years, Katie?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said quietly, still watching him. ‘I can hardly manage until tomorrow. Sixty years is too much of a guess.’

‘But for sure you’ll look like her, Katie.’

‘I—I suppose,’ she offered hesitantly. ‘I’m tired. I think I’d better go to bed.’

‘And all alone, too,’ he sighed. ‘What a shame. I had the best plan in the world. It
would
have worked!’ He seemed to be confiding in himself.

‘Maybe,’ she whispered. ‘Maybe. I—good night, Mr King.’

He moved close enough to engage both her hands in his. ‘Don’t rush off with the cold shoulder, Miss Russel,’ he gritted. ‘Your grandmother upset all my plans. But I still want you, Katie Russel. Why don’t we get married?’

I want you, Katie Russel. There it was, still the same. I want you. She snatched her hands back, almost losing her balance on her crutches. ‘What’s the matter,’ she snarled. ‘Has my grandmother convinced you I’m worth having? All of a sudden you’ve become the marrying kind?’

‘Not all of a sudden,’ he snapped back. ‘It’s been a long, losing battle. And yes, your grandmother convinced me. Just the thought of having someone like her around to argue with for sixty years, that’s great promise. Well?’

She shuffled around clumsily on her sticks, and started out the door. ‘No answer?’ he called to her retreating back.

Yes, her mind screamed into a blocked throat. Yes. Just tell me that you love me. But he had nothing more to say, and she paused not a second in her flight to her room.

Damn the man, she told herself as she dropped face down on to her bed. Damn the man! Whatever happened to moonlight and roses, love and laughter, and live happily ever after? So he’s a proud Mountain Man. Does that guarantee that he has ice water in his veins? It’s a lovely day, and I don’t have anything else to do, so why don’t we get married? And if we do, I’ll keep you locked up in a cage, and perhaps let you out on alternate Sunday afternoons. Damn the man!

She beat down both her pillows in an attempt to scatter her frustrations. Mountain Man! Too bad the Indians didn’t scalp them all the very first time they set foot on this side of the mountains! Come marry me and be my love, and we shall love forever! She halted her tantrum and lay silently savouring that last thought. Come marry me and be my love. If only we could. If only he would say something like that! What would Grandmother say? What would—and too tired from all the wild turmoil of the day, she dropped off into a deep sleep.

‘Katherine? Katherine!’ A gentle hand rested lightly on her shoulder. She scrambled back to awareness.

‘Grandmother?’

‘Yes, child. It’s almost ten, and there’s another storm brewing. Up you come. We’re going home today.’

‘Today? Must we?’

‘Yes, of course we must. Where’s your faith, child, do you think he’s the only man left in the world?’

‘No—I—’

‘Then up you get. We’ll be in the kitchen.’

‘We?’

‘Mr King is making us breakfast.’

‘Oh, God no, that’s a disaster in the making.’

‘Let him struggle, girl. He’s got a lot of thinking to do yet. It’s obvious that he didn’t sleep a wink last night. Neither did you, did you? Into the bathroom then, and come along.’

She still had sand in her eyes when she crutched her way out to the kitchen. A new tablecloth, cerulean blue, with white flowers embroidered in the corners, had replaced the utilitarian white of the past few days. She adjusted herself to the chair without looking at him, then sat up primly, with back straight and hands in her lap.

He watched her from dark eyes. She could see the tired expression, the slight tic under his eye. He brought a plate for her, another for her grandmother. She looked down at the watery mess, and then glanced sideways. Her grandmother was hacking away at the scrambled eggs as if they were a gift from the gods. There was a warning gleam in the old woman’s eyes. Katie dug in, trying to look enthusiastic. The toast was too much. It looked like a scorched timber from a bam fire. Surreptitiously she crumbled it up and brushed the pieces into her napkin.

‘It’s a terrible day for travel,’ he offered. He seemed to be having trouble drinking his coffee. And that’s something, Katie told herself. He needs a cook. He couldn’t survive on his own without one. But the trouble is that there have been too many women in the past willing to pander to him!

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Grandmother Russel returned. ‘With the rain and all it will be cool. Katherine is a superb chauffeur. We’ll drive as far as the airport, leave the car there, and—just think—Marion will be married in just three more days!’

‘Yes, wonderful,’ Katie sighed. Why do I have to think about Marion getting married? Why not me? Maybe he won’t let us go! That would be a terribly arrogant thing to do. I wish he would.

‘But Katie hasn’t driven in a long time,’ he protested. She could hear a note of desperation in his voice. ‘And with that cast—’

‘Not to worry,’ Grandmother chided him. ‘We’ll do just fine. Finished with your coffee, love?’

‘I—yes. Are we—shall we go right away?’

‘Right away, my dear. Thank you for everything, Mr King.’

‘For what?’ he asked glumly.

‘Why for taking care of my favourite grandchild all this time. And I do wish you well for the future. Oh, Katie, I forgot to mention—’ this in a somewhat louder voice as the two women made their way out the door— ‘Teddy Malson is back in town and asking for you. You remember Teddy?’ And so into Katie’s bedroom.

‘It won’t take me a minute to pack,’ the younger woman sighed. ‘I did most of it yesterday. Why would you bring up Teddy Malson? I don’t understand, Grandma. We split up five years ago.’

‘And probably the smartest thing you ever did,’ the old lady assured her. ‘Now get a move on, girl.’

‘It’s all turning into some kind of second-class melodrama,’ Katie sighed. She took a few minutes to splash cold water on her face again, and started for the door, feeling as miserable as a woman can get. He didn’t even come to the door. She slammed it behind her and started down the path. Just across the bridge was her little Volkswagen, all re-built, re-tested, and returned. The key was in her purse, and the gate was open.

A crash of thunder, following hard on a flash of lightning, startled her. She jumped a pace or two, and almost fell over as one of her crutches slipped off the edge of the flagstones into the soft earth of the flower bed. The lightning had struck one of a clump of tall, thin ash trees across the highway above them. She watched in fascination as the tree split right down the middle and collapsed across the road. And then the rain came.

‘Hurry up before we drown,’ her grandmother yelled. The older woman, going ahead, had already reached the little car and slipped inside. Katie put her head down and doggedly crutched her way down the path. In the middle of the bridge, heedless of the downpour, she stopped to look down at the broiling creek, now almost half-way up it’s gorge. I think I’ll change your name to Rubicon, she mused. Some of the water running down her face was salty. She adjusted her crutches under her arms and made her way to the little car.

The door on the driver’s side was stuck. She had to wipe an eye clear before she could open it. She slumped into the seat, ducking automatically to avoid bumping her head. Her foot came into the car with ease, but the tiny clutch pedal was difficult to find with her cast. She practised movement of clutch and brake for several tries, telling herself how properly conservative it was. But her eyes were on the house. Once before she had gone through this same drill, and he had come after her. But not this time.

I’ll give him another minute, she whispered to herself. But when that minute had passed and nothing had happened, she recognised total defeat. She inserted the key, and turned on the ignition. The engine at the back caught on the first rotation, and began a pleasant rumble. Any other time you would have stalled, she screamed silently. ‘Is everything against me?’