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Katherine's Arrangement

By Blossom Turner

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CHAPTER 1
SUMMER OF 1865, POST CIVIL WAR SHENANDOAH VALLEY

Josiah cantered into town and swung from his stallion. He liked to get in and get out without much ado. One of these days, if he ever hoped to remarry and have a family, he was going to have to change his loner personality, but not today. He tethered his steed on the hitching post outside the general store and took the steps two at time. When he had one hand on the door and the other removing his hat, a woman’s shriek split the air.
He whirled around. Was that trouble coming from the saloon again? Sure enough. But usually the girls in there didn’t put up much of a fuss. Curiosity got the best of him, and he headed in that direction. He picked up his pace as the scream intensified.
The swinging doors pushed wide as he entered. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, but when they did, one fist clenched, and he straightened to his full height. The other hand cradled his gun in the holster.
“Unhand her this minute.”
Two unsavory men swiveled around at the sound of his voice. A feral glint danced in their eyes. “What’s it to you. We’re just having a little fun.”
“Perhaps you boys don’t understand what a scream from a lady means. Usually, it means she’s not enjoying your company.” Josiah looked into the brilliant blue eyes of a black-haired beauty and a memory twigged. Was that the same girl he’d rescued long ago?
“Let me go,” she said, confirming his suspicions.
His hand stayed steady above his gun.
She pushed her way free, but one of them grabbed her arm. “Not so fast.”
Her brows flew up, and her eyes doubled in size as Josiah’s gun flipped from his holster. He aimed it at the man.
“I will shoot, and they didn’t call me Bullseye in the war for nothing.” He held his hand steady and calm.
One of them twitched.
“Both of you will be on the floor before your hand touches your gun, so don’t even think about it. Now let her go.”
The one who had the hold ogled her up and down, his stare, a mixture of lust and evil, crawled over her. Josiah itched to pull the trigger.
“She’s a fine one. But not worth a bullet.” His wiry grip unclasped.
She scurried across the room to Josiah’s side.
“Go on. Out of here.”
To his surprise she bent down and pulled a small six-shot revolver from her boot and pinned it on them. “We will back out together.”
He loved the spunk, and his heart tripped a beat. That had not happened in a long, long time.
“After you, my lady.”
They backed out. She slid the gun back into her boot. He kept his eyes on the door, just in case, then turned to her. She was halfway down the street before he caught up to her.
“Wait.”
She did a half turn but kept on walking. “Just because you got me out of a bind doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”
“A thank-you would be sufficient.”
“Thank you,” she said over her shoulder before turning down a side street.
He found himself pursuing her without understanding why. As his long strides caught up, he touched her arm.
She flinched and turned with fire in her eyes. “Are you like all the rest? Can’t keep your hands off?”
“I just wanted to introduce myself.”
“I know who you are, Mr. Richardson. Everyone knows who you are. You don’t go about being the richest man in the county and people not know your name.”
He raised his eyebrows. “And your name?”
“We’ve met.”
“So you are that same girl—”
“I’d rather not discuss it.”
“Seems I have a penchant for rescuing you. Katherine, isn’t it?”
“Seems you men can’t keep your hands to yourself, or a girl wouldn’t need rescuing. If I could’ve got to my gun first...” She gritted her teeth, and her tiny fists balled at her side.
“Ah, yes, you do know how to use your gun.”
“Doesn’t help much when a girl can’t even go about her work without being manhandled.”
“Were you working in the saloon?”
She raised her chin. “I was cleaning the place. It’s all the work I could find, and my family’s in a bad way—”
He raised his brows at her. “Your pa let you work in an establishment like that?” Surely, her family couldn’t approve.
“I told my pa I got a cleaning job, just not where I was cleaning. Oh, never mind. You and all your money would never understand.”
Frustration stirred inside him. “But a girl like you cannot safely work in a place like that.”
“What do you mean, a girl like me?”
“Well, you don’t exactly blend into the background.”
“The curse of being born looking like this strikes again.” She swept a hand from tip to toe, and a sheen of tears filled her eyes. “I thought I could handle myself, but how can I when they attack from behind as soon as the owner steps out for a few minutes?”
A mixture of sensations warred inside him. He hated seeing a woman cry, but he also hated being lumped in with those hooligans in the saloon. “Not all men disrespect women.”
“I know. And I really am thankful for your help. Once again, I’ll ask that you don’t tell my pa.” A lone tear slipped down her cheek, and she brushed it away.
Without thinking he stepped forward and folded his arms around her. For a brief moment, she tucked her trembling body into the warmth of his hold. The smell of rain-washed roses and the softness of a woman’s body stirred long forgotten senses. But then she wrenched free and took off running.
This time, he didn’t follow.
Whatever had possessed him to do that? He hadn’t held a woman since his beloved Georgina died, nor had he wanted to. But this beautiful enigma somehow reached in and touched his soul.
He took his hat and dusted it against the side of his leg, then plunked it back on his head and turned toward the store.
What would it be like to be so desperate one had to risk one’s life—one’s body—to work in a place like that? A surge of protectiveness rose from deep within. How could he help her?
***
Katie squinted into the afternoon sun. Dust billowed behind a lone rider. Was that who she thought it was? Of all the luck. She’d only just chosen to escape the stifling heat and sit on her aunt’s front porch and stitch up a frayed hem. Why did he have to appear when she could not stay hidden?
A tremor took to her hands. What did he want? The urge to dart inside welled up, but it was too late. His eyes were pinned upon her. She forced herself to stay put, but wove the needle into the fabric so she wouldn’t prick her finger. Thankfully, a slight breeze lifted the hair on the nape of her neck to cool the heated flush. She had to get over the past. Today was as good a day as any. She jutted her chin in the air. The only thing moving were her hands, which nervously thread material through her fingers.
Smile. Stay calm. A tiny bead of sweat trickled down her spine.
He swung from his horse and tethered the reins to the porch rail.
She took in a cleansing breath. She could do this. She was a civilized young woman, no longer traipsing unchaperoned about the countryside nor needing his rescue—again.
He climbed the steps and made his way toward her. An irregular beat thumped inside her chest as he moved with sure steps, his head held high.
A wavy russet-brown curl fell across his brow when he removed his hat. The flattened hair sprang to life as his fingers raked through the thickness. Peppered gray tinged his sideburns.
“Good afternoon, Miss Williams.” His eyes crinkled with friendly warmth.
She mumbled an obligatory hello and dropped her gaze to her lap.
“I’m here to have a conversation with your father and hope that my request will meet with your approval.”
Her head snapped up.
He flashed an easy smile.
Katie’s mouth went dry.
He slipped his hat back on and took a step back.
She gathered the strength to lift her head and meet his gaze.
His smile softened. “We’ll talk soon enough.” Light danced in the depths of his steel-gray eyes.
A prickle of awareness nipped at the back of her neck. “What do you want to talk to Pa about?” Katherine blurted out the words before her head had time to catch up to her mouth. “If it’s about the incident—”
“Goodness no.” His face fell. Silence filled the air as he stared down at her.
Why was he looking at her like that? Like he expected her to know his mind. She shifted in the rocking chair, then jumped to her feet to relieve the intensity. She brushed against him and took a quick step back. The rocker swayed, and she stumbled forward as it hit her in back of the legs. He reached out to steady her.
She breathed in a woodsy mixture of pine and leather. A tingling sensation worked its way up her arms as the warmth from his large but gentle hands penetrated the thin cotton sleeves of her well-worn dress.
Abruptly turning, she moved across the porch. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Richardson, I’ll fetch Pa, I mean Father, for you.”
After she told her father of the visitor, Katie was thankful for the safety of the small cabin as she helped Ma and the other women in her family in the kitchen, away from his unsettling stare. What did he want? Her hands trembled as she peeled the potatoes for supper.
Ma fussed about as if the king had come for tea. She pulled out Aunt May’s best dishes, serving tray, and good cutlery. Her constant prattle set Katie’s nerves on edge.
“How embarrassing we don’t have tea. That blasted war is not over, even when it’s over.” Her grumbles grew louder. “When will we be able to get decent supplies again?”
Katie rolled her eyes. Why all the bother?
“Katie,” Ma said, “set the sassafras to steep on the stove. Amelia, fetch me a few springs of mint from the garden. May, do we have any of your tea biscuits left, or did the kids eat them all?”
Aunt May wrapped a gentle arm around Ma’s shoulder and smiled. “There’s a few left. If we don’t help ourselves, there will be enough for the menfolk to have one. Now, take a deep breath, Doris.”
Aunt May squeezed Ma’s shoulder, then moved to the counter. She lifted the checkered cloth that covered the few tea biscuits and placed the plate onto the tray. “Doris, why don’t you go sit with the men, and I’ll bring everything out when the tea is ready?”
“I won’t meddle in men talk, and they asked specifically that Katherine serve the tea.”
Aunt May swung around. Her eyes widened when Ma gave a slight nod. Something was up, but what?
Ma turned to her. “Katherine, go use the mirror in Aunt May’s bedroom and tidy yourself up. And fix your bun, you look unkempt.”
“When have you ever cared what I—?”
“For heaven’s sakes, is there ever a moment when you do as I say and don’t argue with me?” She threw up her hands. “Go.”
Katie dropped a half-peeled potato into the basin and huffed out a deep breath. She wiped her hands on her apron and headed for the only room with privacy.
“And change out of that old work dress. I’ll bring your Sunday—”
“Mr. Richardson saw me on the porch when he arrived.” She faced her mother. “If my dress was good enough then, surely it’s good enough now.” She slipped into the bedroom before Ma could say another word.
After she’d fixed her bun, Katie returned to the kitchen, where Ma and Aunt May stood side by side at the sink snapping off the ends of fresh beans. Little Gracie and their second- youngest sister, Lucinda, were running around in a game of tag with their youngest cousins, Jacob and Nathan. Jeanette—the middle daughter—sat in a chair with her nose buried in a book she had read many times over, and fourteen-year-old Amelia was surrounded by material draped over the kitchen table. She had her ears covered with both hands.
“Ma, can’t these kids play outside?” Amelia said. When Ma didn’t answer or even indicate that she’d heard, Amelia threw her hands in the air. “I’m trying to concentrate on my sewing, and there’s so much noise.” She sent Katie a look that pleaded for help.
Katie nodded and moved closer to get Ma’s attention.
“We can’t live here much longer.” Ma kept her voice in a low murmur as she spoke to Aunt May. “We’ve imposed upon your family enough. This house barely fit the four of you without adding the seven of us, and now that you have another young’in on the way—"
“God will provide, Doris. Maybe, just maybe, provision sits on our front porch as we speak.”
“What does that mean?” Katie asked.
They jumped apart and whirled around.
The light of excitement in Aunt May’s eyes faded. “Katie girl, you scared us sneaking up like that.” Her forced laughter filled the room. “You always did have the stealth of an Indian brave.”
“I don’t need stealth in this chaos. Can’t the kids play outside?”
“We’re trying to keep the noise contained while the men talk.” She motioned toward the counter. “The tray is ready to go. Could you be a dear and take that out?”
Katie frowned, but picked up the tray. Maybe she could rush in and out without notice. She swung open the screen with her head high and a charge in her steps. Unfortunately, she miscalculated the weight of the door and it crashed against the house before slamming shut. Not exactly the invisible presence she planned to project.
Pa and Mr. Richardson stopped talking. She could feel their eyes upon her, though she refused to look up. She set the tray gingerly on the small table between them.
“Thank you, Katherine,” Mr. Richardson said.
She chanced a look his way, and he boldly captured her attention with a full smile that showed off a row of straight white teeth.
Propriety demanded she answer. “You are most welcome, Mr. Richardson.” She forced a slight upward curve to her lips.
“Can you pour us each a cup, Katie girl?” Pa asked.
This was something she had done a thousand times before, yet a fluster pressed in. She lifted the pot and spilled a bit of the first pour onto the saucer. She gave that one to Pa, hoping Mr. Richardson hadn’t noticed. One sideward glance told her his eyes were still pinned on her.
Determination held her steady as she poured and passed the second cup. Their hands brushed, and the slightly rough skin of his work-worn fingers felt far too intimate. She pulled away as if she had touched hot coals and started for the door.
“Come sit with us for a few minutes,” Pa said.
She kept walking. “I have to help Ma with supper. You know how she is when I shirk my work.” She slipped inside before he could protest.
Soaking in the safety of the cabin, she blew out a deep breath as the door slammed on its hinges behind her. There was something about Mr. Richardson’s familiarity that unnerved her. Not to mention the breadth of his wide shoulders over his thick, barrel chest. He was tall. And big.
Too big.
Ma and Aunt May were huddled together in the far corner of the kitchen area as close as an apple to its skin. They stopped their chatter as she reappeared, and Aunt May moved toward her.
“I think you have an admirer, Katie,” Aunt May said, a twinkle in her eyes.
Katie’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious. He’s almost as old as Pa.”
“Don’t look so surprised, girl,” Ma said. “Why, with your comely looks, what man wouldn’t be interested?”
The all-too-familiar disapproving tone and set of her ma’s chin told Katie she was in for a fight if she tried to set her mother straight.
“I’m too young for him. What about the widow Laurie up the road? She’d jump at the chance to marry, with her brood of children and no husband to run the farm.”
Ma’s lips formed a tight ashen line, and her eyes narrowed. She moved in close, her voice hushed but stern. “You’d do well to remember that there’s a very influential man sitting on our humble porch. I will not have you embarrassing us with your haughty ways. All I know at this point is that the conversation concerns you, and you will show nothing but respect. Do you hear me?” She clenched her teeth and wagged her finger so close to Katie’s face she could feel the fan of a breeze.
“Fine.”
She wouldn’t argue. But neither was she going to try to impress any man, especially Mr. Richardson, with whom she had nothing in common. When she did marry, it would be for love. Her heart would skip and melt like it once had for Charles.

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