Katherine "Kissin' Kate" Barlow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ikissdhimbck) wrote2012-07-28 06:33 pm
ikissdhimbck) wrote2012-07-28 06:33 pm
Entry tags:
OOM: Yorktown, Texas -- 1888
June 22nd
The tin sign creaks in the breeze, rocking on wooden hinges in a welcoming wave to barnstormers and passersby.
YOUNGER RANCH
Kate nudges Beaut along. Steam curls off the lane, sucking every last drop of moisture into the swaddling air. Some of the farther paddocks have been burnt up by the weather, but the land itself is rich enough for a ranch; gentle gullies, thick pasture. It's a good size.
Kate smirks.
"Ho there, miss! Howdy-do?"
She brings Beaut to a stop outside what looks like the main estate. There's a good-sized bunkhouse, barn, and stables; storehouses, and a silo. The man coming off the front porch doesn't look familiar to her — one of his many fine new hands, she wagers. So she smiles, sweet as pie, and dismounts.
"Good afternoon. I'm lookin' for Mr. John Younger."
She's led to the parlor, while the fellow sees to Beaut.
"I must be seein' things."
A smile hangs off her painted lips. She's admiring the ivory clock sitting on his mantle, and doesn't have to turn to recognize him. His voice is just as it was the last she'd seen him, six years ago.
When she does turn, however, she recognizes the march of time across the desert-pocked landscape of his round face. The laugh lines around his eyes are a little deeper, the color of his skin a little more mismatched — like a pink and tan tapestry woven by the Texas sun. There's more grey in his beard.
"Miss Katherine?"
"John!"
She can't hold herself back from beaming, rushing to meet him in the middle of the room. There's no need to stand on ceremony with friends as old as they are. They embrace heartily, laughter mixing together.
"Good golly! Look'it you, all growed up and jus' as pretty as a sunflower! Samuel Barlow's girl — hoowee. What're you doin' all the way out here?"
"I came t'see you, John."
"S'that right? Well, gosh, I'm jus' tickled pink. I thought, maybe, after the bank took the ranch I'd be the last person y'wanted to see again."
"John."
"Naw, Katherine, I felt terrible. Still do. Jim 'n I, we tried t'figure a way to keep things goin'. Your daddy, he was real generous when he passed. An' it didn't feel right, leavin' you in the dust. Now, hold on, I know what yer gonna say — we're real proud of you, goin' off and grabbin' hold of yer dream. How's teachin'? But wait, point is — we was a family. We felt responsible, after Samuel passed, t'look out for you. An' what happened worked out the best for everybody, I know. Y'weren't saddled with a troubled ranch, y'didn't hafta give up teachin'. But all the boys scattered, an' here you've been on your own all this while. Letters, they ain't enough. 'Specially not now, when I've got money in my pockets. And I feel real guilty, I do, for not writin' in so long."
John always had a gift for speaking. Sometimes his words get away from him, and he doesn't realize until he's miles from his starting point and scratching his head as to how he got there. Which seems to be what he's doing now.
"Now. What'd you come t'see me for?"
Kate takes a breath.
"I need your help."
John's done real well for himself, and she's proud. He's right. They were a family — her daddy, Jim, John, and all the boys who worked their estate. Samuel left her with a sizeable inheritance, one she didn't have much use for after her necessities were taken care of. She split a good portion up among a handful of the boys who'd been like fathers and brothers and cousins to her. A makeshift family to take the place of the one she didn't have, thanks to disease, war, and untimely death. To see what John's done with that bit of money now ...
Well, it makes her damn proud.
"Lemme get this straight, Miss Katherine. You — you gave up teachin'?"
Her fingers twitch against the glass of brandy he poured. She still can't stomach it, but she hadn't wanted to be impolite by refusing.
"That's right."
"And now you're travelin', but you can't say why?"
"Not as of yet."
John's not the smartest fella in the world, but he certainly isn't stupid. He looks sad, momentarily.
"You're not in trouble — ?"
"John, I'd never, never bring trouble upon you an' yours. That's part of the reason why I can't say."
"Katherine, I couldn't give two bits about me. Y'know if you're ever in trouble you can come t'me for help. I don't jus' owe it to your daddy."
Her lips twitch. She's missed having him in her life. Ever since All Hallow's Eve, she's been thinking an awful lot about the way things used to be.
"All right. I'm in trouble. But it ain't anythin' y'hafta worry yourself on, John. I promise you, things are well in hand. I jus' need a place to stay for a few weeks, an' a pair of favors."
He clenches his jaw, letting out a slow sigh.
"Name it."
"Six ponies."
He nearly drops his whiskey.
" — That's an expensive favor, Li'l Miss."
"I know it. I jus' need 'em on loan. Good bloodhorses, 'bout sixteen hands, with deep chests an' long legs. No younger'n three. I'll return 'em t'you in a month's time, with interest."
"Interest?"
"I got some horses comin' in from another. They're yours when we're done."
"Done with what?"
She pins her lips.
"Right. What's the other favor?"
She hesitates again, smiling ruefully.
"I'll also need someplace for a gentleman friend t'stay, no questions asked 'bout who he is or where he's from."
"Katherine. You're takin' up with men outta wedlock?"
"It ain't like that — "
"I'd hope it ain't. Travelin', unmarried, without escort. Talkin' like the boys again, after you prided yourself on your good English. Your daddy'd be rollin' over in his grave, could he see you now."
That ain't saying the half of it.
She bites her tongue.
"You're probably right. If y'don't wanna help, John, I'd understand."
His expression softens a touch. She knows it's a lot to expect from him, after all this time. She was eighteen the last time he saw her, her porcelain hands clasped so tightly in front of her when she saw him off, thanking him for all his years on the ranch. Her soft, young face marked with pent-up grief.
He sighs again, having a sip of whiskey.
"No. I'll help. You and your friend can stay here. There's plenty of room. An' I can spare six ponies, on loan, with interest. Jus' one thing, Miss Katherine."
"Name it."
He catches her eyes, the expression on his face as serious as the grave.
"You tell me what this is all about, when it's all over?"
Though it starts off like a deal breaker, his voice rises on that last syllable. He'd always been a gentle man; making demands isn't in his nature. Kate smiles sympathetically, knowing she has his help no matter what. That's what family is for, after all.
"John, when this is all over I won't need to."
The tin sign creaks in the breeze, rocking on wooden hinges in a welcoming wave to barnstormers and passersby.
Kate nudges Beaut along. Steam curls off the lane, sucking every last drop of moisture into the swaddling air. Some of the farther paddocks have been burnt up by the weather, but the land itself is rich enough for a ranch; gentle gullies, thick pasture. It's a good size.
Kate smirks.
"Ho there, miss! Howdy-do?"
She brings Beaut to a stop outside what looks like the main estate. There's a good-sized bunkhouse, barn, and stables; storehouses, and a silo. The man coming off the front porch doesn't look familiar to her — one of his many fine new hands, she wagers. So she smiles, sweet as pie, and dismounts.
"Good afternoon. I'm lookin' for Mr. John Younger."
She's led to the parlor, while the fellow sees to Beaut.
"I must be seein' things."
A smile hangs off her painted lips. She's admiring the ivory clock sitting on his mantle, and doesn't have to turn to recognize him. His voice is just as it was the last she'd seen him, six years ago.
When she does turn, however, she recognizes the march of time across the desert-pocked landscape of his round face. The laugh lines around his eyes are a little deeper, the color of his skin a little more mismatched — like a pink and tan tapestry woven by the Texas sun. There's more grey in his beard.
"Miss Katherine?"
"John!"
She can't hold herself back from beaming, rushing to meet him in the middle of the room. There's no need to stand on ceremony with friends as old as they are. They embrace heartily, laughter mixing together.
"Good golly! Look'it you, all growed up and jus' as pretty as a sunflower! Samuel Barlow's girl — hoowee. What're you doin' all the way out here?"
"I came t'see you, John."
"S'that right? Well, gosh, I'm jus' tickled pink. I thought, maybe, after the bank took the ranch I'd be the last person y'wanted to see again."
"John."
"Naw, Katherine, I felt terrible. Still do. Jim 'n I, we tried t'figure a way to keep things goin'. Your daddy, he was real generous when he passed. An' it didn't feel right, leavin' you in the dust. Now, hold on, I know what yer gonna say — we're real proud of you, goin' off and grabbin' hold of yer dream. How's teachin'? But wait, point is — we was a family. We felt responsible, after Samuel passed, t'look out for you. An' what happened worked out the best for everybody, I know. Y'weren't saddled with a troubled ranch, y'didn't hafta give up teachin'. But all the boys scattered, an' here you've been on your own all this while. Letters, they ain't enough. 'Specially not now, when I've got money in my pockets. And I feel real guilty, I do, for not writin' in so long."
John always had a gift for speaking. Sometimes his words get away from him, and he doesn't realize until he's miles from his starting point and scratching his head as to how he got there. Which seems to be what he's doing now.
"Now. What'd you come t'see me for?"
Kate takes a breath.
"I need your help."
John's done real well for himself, and she's proud. He's right. They were a family — her daddy, Jim, John, and all the boys who worked their estate. Samuel left her with a sizeable inheritance, one she didn't have much use for after her necessities were taken care of. She split a good portion up among a handful of the boys who'd been like fathers and brothers and cousins to her. A makeshift family to take the place of the one she didn't have, thanks to disease, war, and untimely death. To see what John's done with that bit of money now ...
Well, it makes her damn proud.
"Lemme get this straight, Miss Katherine. You — you gave up teachin'?"
Her fingers twitch against the glass of brandy he poured. She still can't stomach it, but she hadn't wanted to be impolite by refusing.
"That's right."
"And now you're travelin', but you can't say why?"
"Not as of yet."
John's not the smartest fella in the world, but he certainly isn't stupid. He looks sad, momentarily.
"You're not in trouble — ?"
"John, I'd never, never bring trouble upon you an' yours. That's part of the reason why I can't say."
"Katherine, I couldn't give two bits about me. Y'know if you're ever in trouble you can come t'me for help. I don't jus' owe it to your daddy."
Her lips twitch. She's missed having him in her life. Ever since All Hallow's Eve, she's been thinking an awful lot about the way things used to be.
"All right. I'm in trouble. But it ain't anythin' y'hafta worry yourself on, John. I promise you, things are well in hand. I jus' need a place to stay for a few weeks, an' a pair of favors."
He clenches his jaw, letting out a slow sigh.
"Name it."
"Six ponies."
He nearly drops his whiskey.
" — That's an expensive favor, Li'l Miss."
"I know it. I jus' need 'em on loan. Good bloodhorses, 'bout sixteen hands, with deep chests an' long legs. No younger'n three. I'll return 'em t'you in a month's time, with interest."
"Interest?"
"I got some horses comin' in from another. They're yours when we're done."
"Done with what?"
She pins her lips.
"Right. What's the other favor?"
She hesitates again, smiling ruefully.
"I'll also need someplace for a gentleman friend t'stay, no questions asked 'bout who he is or where he's from."
"Katherine. You're takin' up with men outta wedlock?"
"It ain't like that — "
"I'd hope it ain't. Travelin', unmarried, without escort. Talkin' like the boys again, after you prided yourself on your good English. Your daddy'd be rollin' over in his grave, could he see you now."
That ain't saying the half of it.
She bites her tongue.
"You're probably right. If y'don't wanna help, John, I'd understand."
His expression softens a touch. She knows it's a lot to expect from him, after all this time. She was eighteen the last time he saw her, her porcelain hands clasped so tightly in front of her when she saw him off, thanking him for all his years on the ranch. Her soft, young face marked with pent-up grief.
He sighs again, having a sip of whiskey.
"No. I'll help. You and your friend can stay here. There's plenty of room. An' I can spare six ponies, on loan, with interest. Jus' one thing, Miss Katherine."
"Name it."
He catches her eyes, the expression on his face as serious as the grave.
"You tell me what this is all about, when it's all over?"
Though it starts off like a deal breaker, his voice rises on that last syllable. He'd always been a gentle man; making demands isn't in his nature. Kate smiles sympathetically, knowing she has his help no matter what. That's what family is for, after all.
"John, when this is all over I won't need to."