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Overview
Following the hardship of the American Civil War, Katie Rawlings and her family leave a life of luxury in New York for one of hardship and uncertainty on the lonely Kansas prairie. Headstrong Katie is desperate to escape her tyrannical father and when the unlikely opportunity presents itself, it is too late for her to escape her father's wicked scheme. Without warning, she finds herself dropped into a brothel in Dodge City where she remains her father's hostage.
Met by happenstance, the incredibly handsome and charismatic Phillip Lawson offers Katie the means to better her life and flee her father's clutches for good. After a whirlwind courtship and a fairy tale wedding she is whisked off to a remote ranch in Colorado where she soon discovers that her married life is nothing like she's been led to believe it would be.
Phillip's smooth talk and charm quickly give way to something far more treacherous. A virtual prisoner in her new home, Katie is cast into a household rife with unforeseeable danger and sinister secrets that she must unlock to save herself.
Rich in historic detail, Katie is the remarkable story of one woman's fight to find the life and love she deserves.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781469779386 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | iUniverse, Incorporated |
| Publication date: | 05/14/2012 |
| Pages: | 590 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 1.44(d) |
Read an Excerpt
KATIE
By Carol James
iUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2010, 2012 Carol JamesAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4697-7939-3
Chapter One
November, 1870Katie urged old Dolly into a headlong gallop. Riding bareback, her skirts whipped about above well-mended woolen drawers that now and again peeked out from above her worn leather boots. The cold prairie wind snatched fabric and tendrils of long auburn hair in its wintry fingers, rendering her nearly blind. She was flying—riding as free as the wind that sought her, freeing herself from the angry emotions and the despair of her life, unmindful of the icy wind biting into her flesh and staining her cheeks bright pink.
The more distance she put between herself and the turmoil she had escaped, the better. Her mother's soft-spoken pleas echoed from somewhere distant in her mind, resonating through her brain as she asked the horse to increase its speed once again. She began to fantasize as she often did. It seemed to numb the pain. Her fabricated thoughts were nearly real to her—if only for a few moments.
Since she and her parents had left the comforts of New York, she had perfected herself as a master of pretense, inventing her own little world where she and she alone made the rules. It was a world that surrounded her with goodness and the dreams she so dearly wished for—a world where anger and despair and evil did not exist and most of all, her father did not exist. She let her mind wander; reveling in the happiness she created until a smile spread across her face, joined by the adrenalin of riding across the vast emptiness of the prairie she knew so well.
She sat astride a horse more beautiful than any other; magnificent, swift and brave. He devoured the ground effortlessly with his hungry gait, hoof beats like magical drums in her head as the hot sun beat down upon her. He was black as night, with a long, flowing mane and tail that streamed out behind as they glided effortlessly across the ground. They were as one and the wind sang to her, inviting her to fly with it. She felt the soft leather of her saddle through her riding habit and her boots were new and fit just right. Breathless, she reined her horse to a halt before a quaint little house—her very own. No person would ever make her feel an outsider within its walls. The door swung wide without a sound on its gleaming brass hinges and her mother appeared. Her dress was clean and of the current style. The fabric was new. There was no need for patches and hours of mending to make it last yet another season. The beautiful, delicate woman stepped gracefully from beneath the covered veranda. Her smile was genuine—a smile of contentment that Katie remembered from long before they had come to Kansas and her mother had lost all reason for happiness. Her mother was young; her face unlined and beautiful and her hands were soft and feminine, not cracked and calloused and raw from over-work. They would take care of each other, she and her mother. They needed no one else.
Eventually, disappointingly, the fantasies would be forced from her mind. Reality would return and sweep her pleasant thoughts away. The sky closed back in and the sun disappeared beneath the clouds. The day was gray and cold. Her fantastical horse was old Dolly the plow horse with her thick neck and broad back and nearly nonexistent mane and tail. Katie rode bareback. She did not even have a saddle.
They slowed to a walk and Katie stared down at the ground in front of the horse's feet, the rhythmic beat of each heavy foot lulling her momentarily. She took a deep breath and patted the mare's neck with her hand, staring off into the distance.
"Did I tire you out too much, old girl?" Katie spoke to the horse as she always did. The horse tossed her heavy head and gave a happy snort. "Good girl, Dolly." She set her other hand against the warm neck of the old grey beast and leaned down to give her a hug.
Katie sighed and wondered what time it was. There was only so much time in a day when she could pretend to be somewhere else. Her stomach grumbled loudly. She had missed the midday meal and there were always more chores for her and she wouldn't get supper until they were done. But—she didn't want to go back—not yet. Maybe she would never go back. She and Dolly could just keep running but—her defiance was short lived. She couldn't leave for so many reasons.
She tossed her head to shake the hair from her eyes. What was it that she ran from? It would only be waiting for her when she returned to the tiny, damp, unassuming earthen house that she shared with her mother and father and any number of rodents or insects as the seasons dictated.
She thought of her frail mother and the scene she had recently left as her father began another of his tirades. "Please, Katie! Please do as I ask and go now," her mother had pleaded in a frightened whisper before Katie reluctantly and angrily strode from the house and to the barn where she quickly found Dolly. Her father had said nothing, sitting in his customary place at the head of the table with the black look Katie had come to know so well.
Matt Rawlings had been brought up a gentleman but he was hardly that. He was evil and Katie hated him with every fiber of her being. She had developed a hardness—a toughness that was utterly lacking in her mild-mannered mother. She had often pondered the distasteful realization that she may be more like her father than she cared to admit.
She wanted something more—anything but her life. There must be something better and someday she intended to find it. She shivered and pressed her arms to her sides. Her bare fingers tingled and she turned back toward home. She laid the reins down on Dolly's withers and rubbed her hands together to warm them.
She wished her grandfather were there. It had been years since she'd seen him—ever since her father had forced them to come to Kansas after the war. She'd hardly remembered her father then for she'd been so young when he left to fight for the union army.
After the war ended, she heard the servants say that a long trail of soldiers were making their way to New York and she had begged her grandfather to take her to look for her father. Rarely able to deny his granddaughter anything, William agreed. "A merry little girl will be a welcome sight for the soldiers," he'd told her and she'd grinned and ran wildly up the sweeping staircase to find a clean dress to wear.
Katie and her grandfather joined those that lined the streets to greet the returning soldiers and search for their loved ones. She'd helped him carry three baskets of sweet bread from cook's kitchen and set them in the back of the wagon before they left.
She sat quietly, straight backed and curious and thrilled at the prospect of meeting her father. She could still remember all the people, even after so many years. There were many carriages lining the streets but most of the crowd had arrived on foot and stood or sat along the streets, babies in tow, children hanging on their mother's skirts, many being scolded and warned to mind their manners—mothers, wives and daughters, having dressed their best, hair done hurriedly so as not to miss the chance to gain a positive vantage point along the streets. Young boys and old men stood proudly alongside what was left of their families. There were hugs and tears and words of encouragement passed from one person to the next.
Nearly an hour passed before shouts from the far end of the street could be heard and very slowly, the soldiers came into view. Some were on horseback, their once proud, fearless mounts reduced to almost lifeless bags of bones shuffling wearily down the street. Some walked and yet others sat in long wagons, watching the crowd pass them by in hopes of glimpsing someone they knew.
Katie's grandfather stepped down from the wagon, retrieving a basket from the rear. He lifted Katie down, handing her another of the large baskets. He stepped through the crowd with Katie in tow. Reaching the front of the line of people, he approached the incoming soldiers, shaking hands with those who were able and offering a piece of sweet bread to any man who would take it. Katie, shy at first, soon caught her grandfather's zeal and began emptying her basket. She received several weary smiles and many thanks for her efforts.
She stared curiously into a wagon that held a few men and most noticeably a man with an unsightly scar across his left cheekbone. He caught her stare and waved her over. She stepped slowly forward as he signaled for the driver of the wagon to wait. "Up here," the man directed and Katie sidled up to the rear of the wagon on her tip toes. She frowned at him a moment, looking at the folded leg of his trousers where a leg should have been.
"What happened to your leg, sir?"
He didn't seem to mind her question. "I was injured in battle and the doctor said it needed to come off because it wasn't good anymore," he told her gently. Her eyes widened to think of a man with only one leg. She wondered where the leg was but somehow she knew that would be an inappropriate question. "Don't you worry none, Miss. I've got this . . ." He held up a sturdy wooden crutch that rested beside him. Katie smiled and nodded, still straining on her tip toes and the man smiled back at her.
"What's your name, miss?"
"Katie Rawlings, sir."
"Katie Rawlings, you say?" She nodded her head, wondering if he didn't like her name. "That's a fine name, miss. My name is Howard Glass." He extended his hand. "I'm pleased to meet you Miss Rawlings." She smiled and held out one small hand, careful to hold her basket against her hip with the other hand. She could barely reach and he leaned forward to bridge the distance between them. They smiled at each other and Katie remembered her task, reaching into the basket. Howard Glass thanked her for the sweet bread as the impatient driver urged the horse forward and the wagon creaked on down the street.
Katie thought he was a very pleasant man even if he had only one leg. He didn't even look sad, not like some of the other men and most of them had two legs. She'd be sad if she only had one leg. How could she run across the lawns and climb trees without both of her legs? Howard Glass was special, just like her father.
She surveyed the crowd of tattered uniforms still plodding through the streets. Shouldn't her father be there? She wasn't even sure what he looked like but her grandfather would find him.
She heard the man's voice—the man with one leg and she turned to hear a delighted squeal from a woman in a pale green dress. Howard Glass lifted himself awkwardly into a better sitting position and again signaled the driver to stop. The woman rushed to him and as she peered over the side of the wagon she paused abruptly. Both husband and wife stared, neither speaking until the woman finally reached out and threw her arms about his neck and crushed him to her. The woman sobbed, "You're home, oh Howard you're home at last!"
A man from the crowd came forward and helped Howard from the wagon, handing him his crutch as his one foot touched the ground. "Welcome home," the man said.
"Thank you, sir," Howard Glass said simply, taking his wife in his arms and enfolding her in his embrace. He placed an endearing kiss on her forehead and wiped a tear from her eye. Fascinated, Katie watched the two of them until they disappeared into the crowd.
The words of a popular song drifted through the streets, sung by a group of melancholy soldiers that had passed by the throngs of people and had yet to be claimed.
There's no place like home.
There's no place like home!
An exile from home,
Splendor dazzles in vain
Oh give me my lowly thatched cottage again
The birds singing gaily that come at my call
Give me them with that piece of mind dearer than all
On the streets and in houses, there ...
The words faded into the distance as the men moved on. Katie played the words over in her head deciding that she liked the song.
Her grandfather appeared and took her hand in his, making his way to the wagon. He set his empty basket in the wagon, taking hers and doing the same. He had already emptied the third basket. "Up you go." He lifted her into the seat.
"But we haven't found my papa."
Her grandfather's voice was soft. "We must get back. Your grandmother and your mother will be worried."
"But what about Papa? What if we miss him?"
"Hush, child," he told her as he climbed up next to her and took the reins. "He's not here."
"Then where is he?"
"I don't know, child."
Katie remembered how disappointed she'd been that they hadn't found him that day. If only she'd known, she'd have wished he'd never come back—but he had, a few weeks later and the entire household was complete chaos. The servants walked on eggshells and her mother cried more than she had when he'd been away fighting the war. Even her grandfather was not quite himself and the angry arguments between the two men of the house became a frequent occurrence. Katie heard the two of them on several occasions behind the closed door of her grandfather's study. She had little enough to do most days, and she often found herself following the sound of raised voices.
"As I've said before, Matthew, I am not prepared to hand over my business to you. I've spent a lifetime making it what it is."
"And I will ask again—why not, William? Am I not capable? You admit it is a strain on you and I am the logical successor. There is no one else and I resent the fact that you will not allow me this opportunity."
Her father was angry. She stood clear of him when he spoke in that tone of voice.
"Matthew, you know very well why I intend to continue running the business. We've had this conversation far too many times since your return. The answer remains the same."
"I take offence, William."
"I am sorry you feel that way, Matthew but I do what is best for this family."
Matt Rawlings' voice was hard. "Whether you like it or not, I am part of this family, William and I will have what is rightfully mine!"
"Come now, Matthew. I tire of these games. Perhaps—it's time we dispense with the niceties."
"I am waiting, William."
"Very well, I would that I could spare you this but you leave me no choice." There was an uncomfortable pause before he resumed speaking. "We both know that you have no real interest in the business and what is best for this family. You barge into this room far too often, making unrealistic demands and threats and my patience is wearing thin."
"Say what you will, old man."
"Hmph! Now it is I who take offence. I may be old, Matthew but I am no fool."
Katie held her breath. Her grandfather was angry too. He'd put her father in his place. She could hardly wait.
"Just what are you implying, William?"
"Do you think I am unaware that you took your parent's sizeable estate to ruin in the space of only a few months?"
"What do you know of that?" Matt Rawlings snapped his words and Katie jumped as she heard him slam something down on what she assumed was her grandfather's desk. She couldn't tear herself away.
"I know a good deal more than you would like, Matthew. I'm also keenly aware of why my only daughter was of such interest to you. You assumed that marrying into this family would reinstate the wealth you'd lost—but you were mistaken."
"If you think so little of me William, then why didn't you forbid Eloise to marry me?" There was an uncomfortable silence and Katie could barely hear her grandfather's soft spoken words.
"If Eloise had not admitted hysterically that her virtue had been compromised, I would never have consented to the marriage under any circumstances. You show very little interest in your wife or your daughter, you treat all of us with disrespect and your behavior since you have returned from the war is nothing short of abysmal. Frankly, I'll have no more of it in my house."
There was another long pause and Katie's heart pounded fiercely in her chest and she had to strain to hear her father's next words. "You are wrong about one thing, William." His tone was threatening.
"Oh? And what's that?"
"You are a fool ... and you'll be sorry you crossed me. Mark my words, you'll be sorry."
Heavy footsteps approached the door and Katie sprinted across the tile floor to the kitchen, narrowly escaping before she was seen. The front door slammed shut as her father stormed out of the house. It would be several days before he returned.
The door to Katie's room was open and she heard her grandmother's voice on the main fl oor. "Why must you go to Kansas Matthew? It's nothing but an uninhabited waste land! How will you make a living as a farmer? You have everything here—friends, family—everything ... and Eloise ... she's much too frail ... and Katie—she's only a child!"
Would her grandmother be able to talk some sense into her father? He'd broken the news that they'd be leaving New York for Kansas only two days before. Her mother had not stopped crying.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from KATIE by Carol James Copyright © 2010, 2012 by Carol James. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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