Chapter 3

3

K atie could think more clearly in the fresh air. The hills beckoned and the trees in the copse welcomed her into their private sanctuary. She walked as fast as her dress would allow. Nervous energy coursed through her veins, and she smoothed a hand over the knot that twisted in her stomach. Normally, she would feel guilty about leaving the chores behind, but not today.

"Mrs. Richardson…Mrs. Josiah Richardson." The name slipped miserably from her lips. If she followed through with Pa's plan, she'd be bearing that name within a month.

She screamed into the blue. "Why me?" There was only one plausible reason Mr. Richardson wanted her. The same problem she'd experienced from childhood up—her beauty was her curse. The looks. The stares. The comments about her unusual eye color and natural ringlets. The unwanted touches on her face and hair until she grew older and the boys wanted to touch a whole lot more. Mr. Richardson knew nothing about her, yet he wanted her for his wife. The mere thought sent a shiver up her spine.

The wind moaned a forlorn song through the towering pines in tune with her brokenness. The one boy who had captured her heart and whose genuine friendship had stirred her soul now lay in the cold, dark earth, never to return, just like her brothers.

Life was cruel and bitter. Finally, the war was over, and the valley was beginning to return to some level of normalcy. Why did Mr. Richardson have to come along and snuff out all hope with his arrogant plan?

How could she be happy saying no to her family? Or worse yet, saying yes to Mr. Richardson? Pa's words of pleading haunted her. They were like hands upon her heart slowly wringing life out.

Katie found a log to sit on and turned her face to the midday sun. With a shake of her head and the determined jut of her chin, she chose to turn off the world. She unlaced her tattered walking shoes and kicked her feet free. Her toes danced deliciously through the cool meadow grass. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she soaked up the one small pleasure no one could take from her. She peeled the straw bonnet from her head, which allowed a gentle breeze to tug at the bun. The pins went next. She yanked them from her silky strands and shook the long locks free. Where the warmth of the sun and the fresh air normally melted her difficulties, today the depressing thoughts held firm.

The majestic flight of an eagle caught her eye, and she imagined what it would be like to soar high above the complexities of this life—to escape duty and obligation and fly far away from the weight of this decision. Try as she might, the foreboding pressed in.

She had no freedom. Instead, she was faced with an arrangement set to bring everyone benefit except her. True love didn't factor in. The happy engagement she had always dreamed of would be a one-month ordeal where two men hashed out the details. Her gift would be a loveless marriage. Tears clotted her lashes, and an ache rose in her throat. She fought the urge to cry, too stubborn to give in to the weakness.

She focused on the honeybees that drifted lazily and listened to the birds chirp their happy song. She breathed in the scent of wildflowers and lifted her eyes to the trees stretched heavenward. She gloried in the sun that warmed her face and kissed her skin.

Aunt May's words echoed in her head. "The reason you feel so close to nature is because God uses creation to speak to people."

Katie had scoffed then and was scoffing now. Neither nature nor God was helping. She felt not a whit better. And if God loved her, as Aunt May kept spouting, then why would he allow this to happen?

She huffed out an angry breath. There was no time for whimsical thoughts of God. She had a decision to make. She wouldn't find an answer spelled out in the wispy clouds or hear God speak in the wind. She, Katherine Anne Williams, had to decide her own fate, and she'd do well to keep her mind on the task at hand.

The waning afternoon sun and lengthening shadows made her aware of how long she had sat there. She rose from the log and slipped her shoes on without tying up the laces. With her hair knotted into a sloppy bun she plunked on her bonnet and began the trek home.

The way she saw it, life had thrown her another painful circumstance. Try as she might to process the positives and negatives, the end result would remain the same. She had little choice.

Josiah hated the days he had to run into town for supplies for the same reason that he stayed clear of church and public gatherings —the women drove him plumb crazy. But, with all the tension in town between the white folk and the newfound freedom of the black slaves, he could no longer safely send Abe. It was no secret the men resented how Josiah had refused to own slaves and had paid his help, but, because of his wealth and standing in the community, few took him on. It made his blood boil just thinking how their ugly behavior poured out when he was not around, all because of the color of Abe's skin.

With the women, he had a whole other problem. They flocked around him like birds to a feeder. It didn't much matter if they were married or not—they loved being seen talking to him. Each trip was made much longer and infinitely more boring than it had to be.

As he plodded down Main Street on his steed, one particular woman with flashing blue eyes came to mind. It had only been a few days since he talked to Jeb, and he couldn't wait to hear her response. He chuckled under his breath. Now, if that girl wanted to steal a portion of his day, he'd be happy to oblige. He'd give her the whole day. He couldn't keep the smile from his face at the thought of her sassy spirit and how interesting life would be living with her.

"Hello, Mr. Richardson." A high pitched shrill pierced the morning air.

Josiah took a deep breath in as he swung from his saddle. He tried to ignore Widow Anne marching across the dusty street. Her large frame and equally generous skirt stirred up quite the dust cloud.

"What brings you into town?" She adjusted the low-cut neckline of her dress, drawing attention to her voluptuous bosom which was giving him more of an eyeful than he wanted. He turned away.

"Just the usual need for supplies. Don't mean to be rude, ma'am, but I best be getting at it." He tipped his hat and hurried up the steps into the Alston General Mercantile. No sooner had he stepped inside than two other ladies headed his direction. He pinned his eyes on Winnie, the owner's wife.

"Is Robert in the back?"

Winnie nodded toward the far curtain and winked at him. "Go on in." From previous conversations, she understood how much he hated getting tied up with boring discussions.

He waltzed right by without making eye contact with the two who called out his name. "Sorry, ladies. I'm in a bit of a hurry today." He threw a quick look over his shoulder.

Happy to have escaped the drivel, he entered the storeroom. "That wife of yours, Robert, is an absolute gem. She could read my mind without?—"

There she was.

Katherine stood in front of Robert, laughing about something he must have said. They both looked at him when he entered, and Katherine's smile vanished like the sun behind a storm cloud. Just seeing her tied his tongue in knots.

"Josiah, meet my good friend, Katie."

"We've met." They both said.

Katherine caught his stare and looked away. "I've got to run, Robert. Say hi to Winnie for me."

"But you just got here. She'll be most disappointed if?—"

"Pa is waiting."

"I'll walk you out." Josiah offered his arm. "I'd like to say hi to your pa anyway." There was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to be with her.

"I'm quite capable of walking myself."

Her words shattered his confidence, and he dropped his arm.

"Carry on with your business." She waved her hand and slipped out the back.

Robert lifted up his hands. "What was that? Katie is not one to be easily run off."

"She must be busy." He couldn't very well tell Robert he had offered marriage. If she didn't agree, he'd be humiliated. And by the way she hightailed it out of there, the chances of her accepting were slim to none.

Robert hit his arm. "Not your usual response from a woman. We're usually trying to help you fight them off." He laughed. "Now you know what us mere mortals face every day."

Josiah offered a weak smile, but the gnawing of uncertainty dug a deeper hole in his gut.

"Sorry, my friend," Robert said. "But Katie has been off limits to everyone since Charles died."

"Charles?"

"They were close friends who would've grown into more. Then the war. He was one of the first to go. She hasn't looked at a man since, and trust me when I say that she's had ample opportunity."

An icy wind blew across the plains of Josiah's heart. The very woman he would love to have spent time with was the only woman who wasn't interested. He'd been counting on her accepting his marriage proposal and had let himself dream, hope, plan. The realization that she may decline his offer brought a wave of loneliness and grief he'd not experienced since Georgina passed away.

The thought of the other available women in the valley caused an immediate yawn. He could not abide the tedious boredom. He would rather be alone.

Katie placed the last plate on the table and looked to see what was missing. "Where are the preserves for the pancakes?"

"We're plumb out. With all these kids needing the milk, we don't even have butter. We just had enough to fry the pancakes up." Aunt May threw her hands in the air. "Butter is a scarcity these days. We'll have to make do. Can you call the others? Breakfast is served."

She flipped another pancake in the fry pan, and Katie's stomach growled at the buttery scent wafting her way.

"The boys are in the yard playing, your ma is gathering eggs, and your pa and Uncle John are in the barn. Put a rush on it. This eating for two has me famished." Aunt May laughed as she rubbed the ever-growing mound.

Katie yelled up to the loft. "Come on, sisters. Up and at it. Breakfast is served."

"Well, I could've done that, girl. Thought maybe you'd have a gentler approach."

Katie smiled. "Gentle? Me? You've got the wrong Williams girl." She opened the door. "Jacob, run and tell your Aunt and Uncle that breakfast is on, then y'all get on in here."

Her aunt chuckled. "I love your spunk and your plucky spirit. I shall so miss you."

Katie's voice warbled as she fought back the sting of tears. "So, you assume like the rest that I'll marry Mr. Richardson? You were the one person I thought…"

Her aunt bustled to her side and pulled her into a warm hug. "I'm so sorry, honey. I just meant…"

The door opened and Ma walked in with a basket of eggs. She harrumphed. "What now?" Her crisp, no-nonsense voice held not a smidgeon of warmth.

Katie pulled away and turned from her ma's intense stare. She brushed at the tears.

"We were talking about…the situation," Aunt May confessed.

"It's not a situation, it's a chance of a lifetime." She slammed down the basket of eggs none too gently. "Mr. Richardson is a fine man with an upstanding reputation, and the very fact he'd choose you should have you jumping for joy." She pointed in Katherine's direction. "Furthermore, after all I've done for you, the least you could do …"

Aunt May touched Ma's arm, jerking her head sideways toward the girls climbing down from the loft. Ma let out a huff but pursed her lips shut.

Katie fought the pain that clawed at her heart. It was not the first time that remark, after all I've done , had been thrown in Katie's direction. What exactly had her ma done other than be a mother? And why was she cold and stern with Katie but warm and affectionate with the rest of the family? That familiar ache of somehow not belonging washed through her as she gathered around the table.

To win Ma's approval, she would have to live a lifetime with a man she didn't love.

Ma stomped back and forth, dropping the cutlery and smacking down a plate of flapjacks with such force that Katie jumped.

"Katherine had better get used to the situation and fast. Mr. Richardson is coming for a visit this afternoon, and I expect her to be on her best behavior." She talked loudly enough for the whole household to hear, but directed the conversation to Aunt May. "And if she thinks she's the only one who has suffered the ravages of this war, she can think again. We've all had to make concessions. You don't find me a constant watering pot."

Katie whirled around. Her body shook, and her chest ached. She had to get out of there before she lost control of the tears once again. "I'm standing right here. You don't have to talk as if I'm not in the room, but I'll gladly vacate." She walked out the door and slammed it shut.

Pa stepped onto the porch from the yard. "I thought breakfast was on."

"I'm not hungry." She marched past him to the barn.