Chapter 21

21

Spring 1866

" W hy, you little cheater," Colby smacked Katie's arm as she laid down her winning hand.

Josiah looked up and laughed. "You're a sore loser, partner."

"I'm sure your wife looked at my cards when I got up to get a drink."

"Rule one, never drink and play at the same time." Josiah loved it when he and Kat ganged up on poor Colby. Every other time, Colby effortlessly took over the conversations, winning Katherine's attention with his quirky humor—all so very irritating. But game night, Josiah was solidly on Kat's side—and she his.

"Drat." Colby threw down the cards.

Kat smirked and winked at Josiah.

"I saw that wink. This time I did for sure." Colby popped from his chair and pointed at her.

"We've been pulling you along all winter." She laughed. "Do you realize how many times you get up in a game, go to the outhouse, get a drink, get something to eat. It's been so easy to look at your hand. Or Josiah will feign tiredness, get up to stretch, and stand behind you." She held up her fingers mimicking the sign language they shared.

Josiah leaned back in his chair. "Ahhh. Why did you tell him, Kat? This is the best part of my week."

"Because spring is around the corner and games will be no more when the mares begin foaling. I think it was time to put him out of his misery, don't you?"

He wished someone would put him out of his misery. He adored her fun-loving ways, how kind and attentive she was, their ever-deepening friendship, but still he waited for the words he wanted to hear more than life itself. And they never came. And the way those two teased back and forth was a constant source of irritation. Why did they have to hit it off so well?

"You owe me one game, Katie," Colby said. "Without the two of you working together. I need to know if I can whip you. I know I can beat this old man here"—he nudged Josiah's arm—"because I did it many times before you came into the picture, but you owe me."

"You're on."

Josiah cringed at Colby's term. Old man. He wanted to deck him one and show him just how old he wasn't.

Katie dealt the cards. Her brow bunched together, and she chewed her lower lip. Oh, how he loved that girl.

"You show him, Kat?—"

"Boss. Boss." Hank barreled in. "One of the mares has gone into labor too soon. We have ourselves a problem."

Josiah jumped to his feet, his pulse thudding. Colby beat him to the door, and Katie was right on his heels. Josiah fell in behind them all as they headed to the barn.

The mare, Gloria, moaned and lowered her large head to the hay. Katie smoothed her hand down the mare's mane. "Come on, girl, you can do this."

Josiah worked in tandem with Colby like they always did. They'd done this enough, words weren't necessary.

"That's it, Gloria, you're almost done," Josiah coaxed.

"Got him." Colby positioned the tiny foal in the hay. "We have ourselves a colt."

Katie moved in with blankets, ready to dry off the tiny foal.

As she dried the colt, Josiah rubbed the weary mare's head. "We'll stay with them to see if he can stand. We need to keep a small one like this real warm."

They watched the colt for hours, but the tiny animal never did learn to stand. Or feed. More than three hours had passed before Josiah shook his head. "Looks like we'll lose this one."

"Please let me take him into the kitchen and feed him." Katherine turned to him, her large blue eyes spilling with tears. "I'll do the work. I'll stay up. I believe this little guy can make it."

He didn't want to tell her what he'd seen too many times before. Even if the foal lived, the premature ones often grew with crooked legs because of their underdeveloped system. "Sorry, but there's little hope. Even if he survives, he most likely won't develop as he should."

"Please, Josiah."

Colby laid a hand on his shoulder. "I know I shouldn't say anything, but let her try."

Katie's eyes filled with hope. Josiah's hands clenched tight. How dare Colby contradict him and make an already difficult situation impossible?

"The worst that can happen is what is happening…the foal won't make it," Colby said.

Josiah's anger ruptured to full strength and he shoved off Colby's hand. "No. The worst that can happen is that my wife will fall in love with a horse whose end will be a bullet to its head."

Colby stepped back and threw up his hands. "You're right. Sorry I interfered."

"Go ahead, Katherine." Josiah did his best to rein in his anger, but the situation had festered too long within him. "Take that horse in. Try to save it. But when it dies in the next few weeks, or, God forbid, lives without the ability to walk properly, don't blame me."

He turned and marched away, angrier than he'd been in a long time. How dare Colby interfere? He made Josiah look like the bad guy. It was getting harder and harder to remain neutral about the unwanted influence Colby wove into their marriage. He would have a stern word with the man in the morning.

Maybe she should have followed Josiah's wishes, but Katie couldn't stand by and let the foal die without at least trying to help it. She had the tiny thing brought into the kitchen, and laid down old blankets for a bed and stoked up the wood stove. No matter what the outcome, she had to give this little one a fighting chance.

After hours of trying to get a dribble down his throat, of keeping him warm, the foal still didn't try to stand. Josiah was right. It was a lost cause.

In the deep of the night, a warm hand fell on her shoulder as she lay beside the foal. "Go get a few hours' sleep," Josiah offered. "I'll keep watch."

Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I had to try."

"I know. It's not over yet. I'll come get you if anything changes."

With a murmur of thanks, she dragged her weary self upstairs to bed. But she hadn't slept long when Josiah nudged her awake, his eyes bright. "Come, he's standing. Colby and I got him out to the stable with his mother, and he's actually nursing."

She popped from the bed and threw on her wrapper and an old pair of boots.

He waited near the door, watching her.

Standing there with the light framing his broad shoulders, he looked strong enough to defend her from anything. She should say something to smooth things over if she could. While she wove her hair into a quick braid, she said, "I know you were trying to protect me from more loss."

After she added her old straw hat, he slipped his arm around her, and they headed out the door. "That may still happen, but that's your decision to make, not mine. There's a lot to learn about this husband role, and the one thing I know for certain is how often I get it wrong."

She smiled up at him and leaned in. "Wish I could say I was the easiest person in the world to live with, but that would be a lie. We'll figure this out together."

"Together." He gave her arm a squeeze.

Colby and Kat's shared laughter spilled out the wide-open doors of the barn. A surge of jealousy flooded through Josiah and he stopped short.

"Look how good little Victory is doing. Even his knobby knees are straightening out." Her voice bubbled.

"You were the one who saved him, and now he only has eyes for you. Look how he's nuzzling in for a Katie hug."

"Come here, my precious," Katie said. "I'll snuggle you any time of the day."

"Who you talking to, me or the horse?" Colby chuckled at his own humor the way he always did.

Josiah fisted his hands. Was Colby flirting with his wife? How dare he?

"With all the attention you get from those girls in town, you don't need anyone else swelling up your head."

His easy chuckle wrapped around Josiah's throat and nearly choked him.

He wanted to hurt Colby. Jealousy burned in his soul, but he had to pull his emotions together. Katie was his wife, not Colby's. There was no need to be jealous. She shared his bed and his life.

And he didn't want a repeat of what happened at Christmas. He inhaled a steadying breath.

But then Colby's voice drifted from the barn again. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask how you and Josiah met."

"Why do you ask?"

"Your age difference for one," Colby said. "I know age is no respecter of true love. Just curious how two people in totally different age and social groups would meet. After all, I have to find myself a wife."

"Yes, you do, and I've run out of fingers on my hands telling you the names of those interested." Her laughter flowed free, as pure as a babbling brook.

Josiah's heart squeezed tight in his chest.

"I'd like to be as lucky as you two," Colby said. "Any tips on how to find a love like yours would be appreciated."

Josiah took a sharp breath in.

"What did I say?" Colby's voice had shifted from amused to concerned. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Her voice wobbled. "Didn't Josiah tell you our marriage was arranged?"

"Really?"

"I see he failed to fill you in on that small detail."

Josiah's hands turned clammy. He should enter the barn and take over the conversation, yet he couldn't move.

"But you two are so in love. I would've never guessed."

"Josiah is in love."

Silence filled the space, and Josiah's heart dropped into his boots.

"I thought I was in love with Charles, yet that blasted war stole him from me. I wasn't in love with Josiah, but life forced us together."

Her words were like a razor-sharp knife chopping and dicing his world.

"The arrangement was made to suit everyone but me. I've felt like a pawn in the game of everyone's life but my own."

Josiah turned and fled the barnyard, unable to hear more. But shame dogged his heels. He'd married her to suit his needs. He'd arranged everything with the arrogant pride of one so confident he could make her fall for him. The cold, naked truth smashed in—a fatal blow to his heart.

He should've taken his time courting her, wooing her, allowing her to fall in love with him—or not. Instead, he set up a marriage deal that forced her hand. He'd been so afraid of losing her to someone half his age that he'd manipulated the circumstances to ensure she didn't have a choice.

Her feisty words on their wedding day often came back to him. "Love was never part of this deal, Josiah." She hadn't lied to him. In fact, she'd been brutally honest.

The good times they shared, the laughter, the friendship, the pleasure, had lulled him into thinking things had changed. Yet, she'd never declared her love to him. It was time for his delusions to end. He would no longer force his way into her life.

Something was wrong, but Katie didn't know what. Josiah had begun keeping far longer working hours than the rest of the household, missing supper hour on many occasions. Was his avoidance intentional? Had she done something to disappoint him? Maybe as the widow Laurie had said, he was indeed tiring of her.

When she tried to join him at night, slipping into his bed, he more often than not turned away, telling her he was too tired. She believed him, for he continued to work from dawn to dusk, and often beyond.

Loneliness pressed in. She missed their friendship more than she'd thought possible.

She'd endured weeks of his cold shoulder. But now it was time for a serious conversation. This could not go on. After another evening without him her frustration hit its limit, fueling the courage she needed.

At bedtime, she walked into his room unannounced and stood waiting for him to turn.

He pulled off his shirt, and the ripple of his muscles caught Katie's breath. He spun around at the sound of her intake. Her eyes collided with the molten gray of his.

"What do you want?" His tone was cold.

She gathered her courage and moved within arm's reach. "I want my husband back."

He let out a hot breath that fanned across her cheeks. The faint smell of hay, soap, and his earthy scent wafted her way.

"I miss you," she said, the truth of those words pressing a hard ache in her chest. "We used to be friends, and now…I don't know what we are."

He walked to the window, staring into the black. "I have enough friends."

Pain sluiced through her, churning into anger. Why would he talk to her this way? She bit back a retort and pressed her eyes shut to settle herself. Anger would not be the best way to find out what was happening.

She moved beside him and placed her hand on his upper arm. The muscle beneath her fingers tightened as he crossed his arms. "Well, I don't have enough friends." She kept her voice soft.

He wrenched free of her hand and paced the room. "No one marries a woman for friendship."

"I was more than a friend. I was your wife, we shared life, we made love."

He spun to face her, his eyes blazing hard. "Love. Did you ever make love to me? Have you ever said you loved me?"

She gulped back the knot of failure choking her words. "But, Josiah?—"

"I don't need another friend, Katherine." His voice was as hard as his eyes. "And if you're in here out of some sense of duty, then I might as well go down to the local saloon."

She gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth as more pain burned her chest. "That was not what we had."

"You're right. It was not what you had, but unless you can tell me you love me, it was what I had. What I still have." A deep longing filled his eyes. "You don't get it, and I fear you never will."

His look nearly rent her in two. She reached out a hand toward him. "Help me, Josiah. I want?—"

"You want what?" Desire smoldered hot in his gaze, and he shuddered.

"I want—" She couldn't say it. Did she even know what she wanted?

With a sigh and a curse, he hauled her up against his bare chest. "I don't have any problem knowing what I want. You're all I want." His mouth crushed against hers. His lips hard and desperate, hungrily sought the fullness of the kiss.

He picked her up and lowered her to the bed without taking his lips from hers. The usual tenderness was gone. In its place, a raw hunger, a desperate urgency, seemed to grip him. This time, there was little of the sweetness her husband usually offered so willingly.

At last, Josiah's anger seemed spent, and he rolled over with his back to her. "Please go." His voice caught. "In the future, I'd prefer you respect my private space as much as I respect yours. Don't come in here uninvited."

She'd never felt so raw and exposed as she slipped from the warm sheets and walked to her own room. Yet she forced herself to hold her head high.

Never again would she initiate or beg.