Journey of the Heart (9 page)

Caitlin grinned at him. “There is dried apple cobbler for dessert, Da.”

“And I’ll have a large slice, Cait. With cream.”

Elizabeth poured the coffees and a contented silence fell on the table as they ate dessert.

“Da, Ma,” said Cait, after they’d all finished. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it, Cait?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

“The letter I got yesterday. It wasn’t from Susan Beecham. It was from Henry, her brother. I have mentioned him in my letters, you know. I told you I’d met him last summer,” she added almost defensively.

“Why, yes, you did. He was studying to be a lawyer, I think you told us,” said Elizabeth.

“Actually, he has finished his degree and will be clerking for a judge this coming year. We got to know each other quite well, you know, between summer and Christmas and his visits to the school. To see Susan.”

Elizabeth, who had gotten up to clear the table, stopped and Michael looked across at his daughter. “So, ye got to know this young man well, Cait?”

“Yes, Da. Mmm, actually, he has asked me to marry him.”

Elizabeth sat down next to Michael who reached under the table to take her hand in his. “Em, he did, did he?”

“But of course, I told him I could not agree to an official engagement until I talked to you and Ma. And until you’d met him.”

“Of course,” said Michael softly.

“He is on his way to California to visit a classmate and will be stopping here for a week,” she said in a rush. “I know you will like him, Da.”

“The important thing,” said Elizabeth, keeping her voice calm, “is whether
you
like him. Love him. You didn’t say that much about him in your letters, you know. Nothing that would have given us a hint….”

“I
do
love him,” Cait said earnestly. “He didn’t ask me to marry him until Christmas. And I didn’t want to write you about him, I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Em, this Henry Beecham, is he plannin’ to practice law out here, Cait? After he finishes working for this judge?”

“No, Da. We would live in Philadelphia. I have been offered a position as a teacher at the school. It is what I’ve always wanted,” she added, her eyes smiling.

“I thought what you always wanted was to teach in a county school, Cait,” said her mother.

“I meant I’ve always wanted to become a teacher, Ma. Now that I’ve been East, I know I want to work at a school like Fayreweather. Where I can teach literature, not just the ABC’s.”

“Children need teachers to learn their ABC’s as much as for literature, Cait,” said Elizabeth quietly. “You had all spring to write us about this. To prepare us.”

“I know, Ma, but I just didn’t know how to tell you. I know you and Da expected me home to stay. When I first went away, that’s what I expected, too….”

“But this is your home, Cait,” continued Elizabeth in a strained voice.

“Now, Elizabeth,” said Michael. He squeezed his wife’s hand under the table, both to comfort her and to warn her, “Things change. Young women fall in love and move away from their families.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Your father is right, Cait. It is just…hard to think about you so far away.”

“I knew it would be hard for you, Ma. That’s why I kept putting off telling you,” Cait admitted, her voice trembling.

“We would never want you keepin’ anything from us to protect us, Cait,” said her father. “We love you too well for that.”

“Thank you, Da,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Now then, when is this Mr. Henry Beecham arrivin’?”

“In three weeks, Da. He’ll stay for a week and then continue on to California.” She hesitated. “If all goes well, then I’ll return East with him at the end of the summer. If you and Ma agree, we’ll marry at Christmas.”

* * * *

“Oh, Michael, I don’t think I can bear it,” said Elizabeth that night after Cait had gone to bed.

“I know,
a ghra.
But we must. At least, if this Beecham fellow is worthy of our Cait. If he’s not….”

“If he’s not, Michael?”

“I’ll kick him off the ranch!”

“Not if Caitlin loves him.”

Michael sighed. “Maybe not. But she wouldn’t be goin’ back East with him at the end of the summer, I can tell you that!”

“It’s just too soon. Why she just got home, I haven’t seen her for two years and here she is, all set to leave again. And not just
us,
everything she knows.”

“We sent her to that school because she had a good mind, Elizabeth.”

“Because I inherited that little bit of money from my grandfather,” said Elizabeth bitterly, “and because she wanted to be a teacher. You were too easy on her, Michael. She should have told us sooner.”

“I know,
a ghra.
But ‘tis too late to be spoiling our short time with her now. I didn’t want ye to be driving her away from us.”

“Oh, Michael, I know you are right. But it is too much. First Mackie and Chavez and now this.”

Michael gave her a wry smile. “This Henry Beecham will be coming in the middle of a stirred-up hornet’s nest.”

Cait had always gone for a short ride before breakfast and since she’d come home she’d fallen into the habit again. Early morning was one of her favorite times, not only because it was cool, but because of the desert silence and the clarity of the early-morning light.

The morning after she talked with her parents, she was up and out at sunrise. It was the time of day when the wild things were out and she saw several deer drinking under the cottonwoods by the creek and a coyote loping along the valley. Her horse shied as a jackrabbit exploded out of the brush.

On her way back, she saw another rider, one coming from the ranch. At first she thought it was her father but then the man took off his hat and the sun turned his hair to silver. It was Gabe Hart.

Cait knew that she was being unfair, but she hated it that this man was training her horse. It went beyond that, she realized, being honest with herself. Her father had entrusted his beloved horses to Gabe Hart and treated him almost like a partner. Her father used to talk to her about the horses; now he was talking to this stranger.

When Gabe came up to her, he pulled his horse up and lifted his hat again. The sun was behind him and lit his hair again. The contrast of silvered gold hair against tanned skin and blue eyes was striking and Cait had to admit that as much as he annoyed her, Gabe Hart was a good-looking man. If you liked the silent type, she added to herself.

“Good morning, Miss Burke.”

“Good morning, Mr. Hart. It is a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He cleared his throat. “I know you’ve been riding out early every morning, ma’am,” he continued in his Texas drawl. “I hope you’re not going too far.”

“I haven’t gone off ranch property, Mr. Hart,” Cait responded sharply.

Gabe felt like he had disturbed a porcupine as he felt Cait prickle. It was too bad he couldn’t seem to get along with his boss’s daughter, but she obviously hadn’t liked him from the beginning and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“It’s just that after Chavez’s visit yesterday, I am sure that Mr. Burke, uh, your father, would prefer you to stay close to home.”

“Chavez?” Cait had heard the name, but neither of her parents had said anything about his visit.

“Mackie’s hired gun,” said Gabe flatly. “Mackie sent him over yesterday to make your father another offer on the ranch.”

“Why didn’t Da
tell
me?” she exclaimed without thinking.

“You were out riding when it happened. He’ll probably tell you today, Miss Burke.”

“What did this Chavez have to say?”

“I was in the corral lunging the filly, so I didn’t hear anything. But your father told me he made it very clear it was Mackie’s last offer.”

“Did he threaten Da?”

“I don’t suppose Chavez ever threatens directly,” Gabe drawled. “Mackie uses him to ‘persuade’ people. I wouldn’t want him persuading Mr. Burke through you.”

“I won’t ride out again without my rifle, Mr. Hart. I could show Señor Chavez a little persuading of my own,” said Cait, flushed with anger. Sensing her mood, her horse shifted sideways and Gabe noted with approval how good her seat was. She sat straight and tall, her legs signaling the horse as much as her hands on the reins. She hadn’t worn a hat this morning and her hair was windblown into wild curls around her face. She was wearing her divided leather riding skirt and an old linen blouse. Somehow that shapeless blouse with its top button unbuttoned made Gabe think of the curves it concealed more than any tucked and fitted shirtwaist revealed. Damn, but he’d better stop thinking that way about Miss Caitlin Burke, he thought, as he tipped his hat and said, “Well, I’d better be on my way.”

Cait rode home, her anger and her concern having killed her appetite for breakfast. When she had settled her horse in the barn and joined her parents at the table, Michael turned to her and said: “I meant to talk to you last night, Cait, about your morning ride.”

“So you
were
going to tell me about Chavez?” she responded tartly.

“Your father hardly had a chance, Cait, we were so taken up with your plans,” said her mother with a touch of quiet anger. “Who told you about him?”

“I met Mr. Hart on my way back and he warned me,” Cait responded in a softer voice. “He said Chavez is Mackie’s hired gun, Da. That he uses him as a ‘persuader.’ ”

Elizabeth was glad to hear the change in Caitlin’s voice. Her hand had been itching to slap her daughter for talking to Michael that way, and she had never touched her daughter in anger in her life. She was horrified by her reaction, but she felt herself wanting to say, “You can’t have it both ways, Cait. You can’t tell us you are leaving and at the same time expect to be a part of things like you always were.” She knew her anger was unreasonable and came from her grief over Cait’s news, so she held her tongue and let Michael handle it.

“I told Chavez to let Mackie know we wouldn’t either be bought or persuaded, Cait. And we won’t, will we, Elizabeth?” he added, looking over at his wife and giving her a warm smile. “We’re damned lucky to have Gabe Hart here,” he added. “I’m glad he gave you the warning.”

“I won’t ride off our property alone, Da. And like I told Mr. Hart, I won’t go anywhere without my rifle.”

“Good girl.”

“It is my bread-baking day, Cait,” said Elizabeth. “Could you help with the wash? And water the flowers with the leftover water for me,” she added. For some reason, the thought of that bucket bumping against her leg brought back all the feelings of panic from the nightmare.

“Of course, Ma.”

“ ‘Tis good ye’re here to help yer ma, Cait,” said Michael after Elizabeth left to gather up the laundry. “She didn’t sleep well the other night. Chavez’s visit seems to have stirred up memories of her parents’ deaths.”

When Cait was five, she had asked why she didn’t have a grandma or a grandpa. Michael had sat her on his knee and told her that she indeed did have a grandpa far away in Ireland. “That’s
my
Da, Cait,” he said, “But yer ma…well, she lost her mama and papa many years ago when she was only fourteen. Some bad men killed them.”

Cait’s eyes had filled and her lip had trembled. “You mean Ma has no ma and da at all?”

“No, Cait, she had them for a while. And those bad men are all dead and gone. You will always have your ma and da.”

Cait had put her arms around her mother that night and said, “I’m sorry, Ma.”

“For what, Cait?”

“ ‘Cause you don’t have your mama or your papa.”

Elizabeth had hugged her close. “Oh, but I have you and your Da and that is all I need.”

Elizabeth had mentioned her parents occasionally and Cait knew that the little sewing box her mother used had been Cait’s grandmother’s. It had all happened such a long time ago that Caitlin supposed her mother had forgotten it all. She was a grown woman, after all, with a grown daughter, so she was surprised to hear that her mother’s reaction went beyond her immediate fear of Chavez.

“But that was so long ago, Da,” she said slowly.

“Some things ye can bury deep, Cait, but ye never really forget them. Yer ma rarely talks about them, I know. And only thinks about it once in a while. But she lost her parents and her brother in a terrible way and Chavez brought it all back, damn him. For that alone, I’d kill him,” Michael continued, almost to himself.

* * * *

Cait was happy to be struggling with heavy wet sheets and clothes that had red dust stains that were impossible to wash out. The activity kept her from thinking too much.

She had expected that she would come home and although
she
had changed, everything else would be the same: the horses, her mother and father, the valley. They were to have had a long, glorious summer punctuated by Henry’s visit and then, when he returned from California, she would go back east with him to her new life, leaving her old life behind. Yet not really behind, for the ranch and her parents would always be there for her to come back to.

But it had to stay the same, or how else could she leave it? Yet it was all changing. Three families had been driven out of the valley. Her horse had been attacked, perhaps ruined. Her Da had hired Gabe Hart. And her beloved home, even her family’s safety, was being threatened.

She had put on an old calico dress to do the laundry and it was fairly soaked through by the time she finished. After she’d hung the sheets and clothes and emptied the last bucket of dirty water on the flowers, she felt as wrung out as the sheets. She’d intended to go for another ride, but instead, she wandered over to the corral where Gabe was working.

He was just letting the last two-year-old into the near pasture when he saw her sitting on the fence, her wet dress clinging to her legs. She looked tired and somehow defenseless and he felt some sympathy for her, which surprised him. She’d come home to a lot, he thought: her colt injured and her parents facing Mackie’s threats.

He slapped the horse’s spotted rump and walking over to her, said, “I was going to work Sky…I mean, Heathcliff, Miss Burke.”