Taking the Reins

Book and Copyright Information

©Dayle Gaetz, 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the publisher or a licence from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For an Access Copyright licence, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll-free to 1-800-893-5777.

This novel is a work of
fi
ction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
fi
ctitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Edited by Alison Acheson

Designed by Scott Hunter

Typeset by Susan Buck

Printed and bound in Canada

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Gaetz, Dayle, 1947-

Taking the reins / Dayle Campbell Gaetz.

Issued also in electronic formats.

ISBN 978-1-55050-552-8

I. Title.

PS8563.A25317T34 2013 jC813'.54 C2013-900080-1

Gaetz, Dayle, 1947-

Taking the reins [electronic resource] / Dayle Campbell Gaetz.

Electronic monograph.

Issued also in print format.

ISBN 978-1-55050-553-5 (PDF).--ISBN 978-1-55050-740-9 (EPUB).--

ISBN 978-1-55050-741-6 (MOBI)

I. Title.

PS8563.A25317T34 2013 jC813'.54 C2013-900081-X

Library of Congress Control Number 2012954421

Available in Canada from:

Coteau Books

2517 Victoria Avenue

Regina, Saskatchewan

Canada V6V 1N2

www.coteaubooks.com

Coteau Books gratefully acknowledges the
fi
nancial support of its publishing program by: The Saskatchewan Arts Board, including the Creative Industry Growth and Sustainability Program of the Government of Saskatchewan via the Ministry of Parks, Culture and Sport; the Canada Council for the Arts; the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund; and the City of Regina Arts Commission.

Dedication

To all the girls and women, both foreign and native born, who helped tame these “wild and free” colonies.

Katherine

A Lady in Breeches
– On Sunday last, a...lady was observed on Esquimalt wharf, about the time of the departure of the
Oregon
, wearing a complete suit of gentleman's clothes – breeches and all! After the steamer had cast off, she quietly mounted a
fi
ne horse, in true gentlemanly style – which means with a pedal extremity on either side of the animal – and rode off briskly towards Victoria, leaving a large and curious crowd of spectators to wonder as to who she was, whence she came, and whither she was bound...

–
The
British Colonist
, April 15, 1862

1 TWO GIRLS. ONE HORSE.

T
he
saddle creaked as Katherine leaned forward to run her fingers through the thick hair of Nugget's mane. “Good girl,” she whispered, “only this last rough bit and we're almost home.” She loosened the reins and let Nugget pick her own way down a narrow, rock-strewn trail carved into the side of a steep rock face. Below them the Fraser River slid seaward, filling the valley with its cavernous roar.

Her horse flinched when Duke snorted, so close at Katherine's heels she felt his warm, moist breath clean through the fabric of George's old breeches. “You're doing fine,” she reassured Nugget. She would trust her life with this horse. Not so much with her brother.

Katherine glared over her shoulder at him. “What are you trying to do? Knock us over the edge?”

George squirmed in the saddle. He pushed his wide-brimmed hat further back on his forehead and urged Duke even closer, trying to squeeze past Katherine in spite of the risk. “Must you be so slow?”

“What's your great hurry, George? Not so long ago you couldn't wait to run away from the farm. Now you'd endanger both our lives simply to arrive home a few minutes faster?”

He kept his eyes on the trail ahead. “I wouldn't expect you to understand, your being such a young girl and all.”

“Understand what?” she snapped. Honestly, sometimes talking to her brother was like chatting with a fence post.

His eyes remained on the trail as if Katherine weren't there at all. “A man needs some danger in his life. Trudging behind you bores me.”

“Oh! Then if risking your own life is so important, you can go right ahead, but you have no right to endanger the horses or me either.”

George's gaze skimmed past her and slid over the cliff edge to the fast-moving water at its base. His head and shoulders dipped. His hat slipped low on his forehead. He grunted and eased Duke a safe distance behind Nugget.

Katherine returned her attention to Nugget. “You may not have noticed, girl, but I think George just apologized to us.”

Before long the trail leveled off and widened into a dusty road between dry grasses. George didn't waste a second. He moved up beside Nugget, pushed his hat back, and urged Duke into a gallop. Leaning low over the white horse's outstretched neck, George flung a challenge over his shoulder. “You'll never catch us now!”

“No, and I don't want to either!” Katherine shouted, but knew he couldn't hear. Horse and rider vanished in a swirl of dust until all she could see of them was the ghost-white shape of Duke's rump and the occasional glint of a horseshoe rising and falling like a silver-toothed grin, mocking her through rising clouds of dust.

Katherine had no reason to hurry, no reason to race her brother today. Not like before. The day she caught up with George's pack-train and told him he was needed at home, he had refused to listen. He told her to go home where she belonged. He called her ridiculous and said she could never keep up with him because she was a girl. Not that his horse was faster or he a more experienced rider. Only that she was a girl.

Katherine had felt a flash of anger but quashed it in favor of tossing out a challenge. “Not only can I keep up to you, I can beat you. And what's more, I'll bet on it. If I lose, I'll go home, empty-handed, without another word. If I win, you'll come with me and you won't complain, not once.”

How George had laughed at that, so sure of himself. So sure he would win. What man couldn't beat his little sister in a horse race?

Katherine patted Nugget's neck, just ahead of the saddle horn. “We showed those two, didn't we, girl?” She chuckled, remembering the shock on her brother's face when she sped past him on her beautiful bay mare. “You're the best horse ever.”

And now they were almost home.

Katherine didn't want this adventure to end. Not yet. She had never known such freedom as she experienced over these past days, nor half so much excitement. She would like nothing better than to turn around and run away from her lonely life on this wretched farm where everything she did reminded her of Susan.

She blinked back tears. It seemed like years since her sister had died. Years since their journey from England came to such a tragic end. Since that ghastly day nothing had gone right until at last George could take no more and ran off in search of gold.

Would her parents ever forgive her for chasing after him? Running off after leaving only the briefest of notes on her pillow?

Dear Mother and Father,

Don't worry about me. There is something I must do. I will be back in a few days.

Love, Katherine

She had dressed in George's old clothes, tucked the gold rose nugget in her pocket, safely wrapped in a small cloth bag for fear of losing it. Then she tiptoed from the cabin, carrying her boots. Guided by silvery moonlight she set off on foot to find her brother, whose help was needed at home since Father's injury.

Now Katherine touched the small hard lump in her pocket. Susan's gold rose nugget protected her and kept her sister close. Without it, Katherine would never have gotten Nugget, and without such a fine horse she would never have caught up to her brother.

As if sensing her mood, Nugget came to a full stop. “Thank you, girl.” She patted the warm softness of Nugget's neck. “I'll be all right now.”

Nugget plodded to the top of a small rise and stopped again. Nestled beneath tall firs, the cabin waited for Katherine, looking even smaller than she remembered. Dust settled on the trail behind her brother as he galloped ahead, reined Duke in, and leaped from the saddle. Before his feet hit the ground, the cabin door burst open and Mother came flying out. The wide skirt of her long, blue dress billowed around her as she darted across the porch, down the two steps, and reached up to throw her arms around her son.

Katherine stared. Mother was always so prim and proper, so unwilling, or unable, to show affection. But there she stood, hugging George so hard his eyeballs must be popping clear out of their sockets. She felt a quick tightness in her chest. Where was Father? Why didn't he come out of the cabin? Is that why Mother was so emotional? Had Father's condition worsened?

George escaped from their mother's embrace and hurried into the cabin. Katherine's fingers twisted around Nugget's reins. She swallowed. Moments later, two figures emerged through the rustic wooden door. George's arm encircled a smaller man, helping him onto the porch. Surely that could not be...

The thin, hunched-over man raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun and peer in her direction. Then he waved one arm above his head as if he might be glad to see her. Katherine shook her head. She knew her father, and he would never show half so much excitement. How could this be?

Mother lifted her long skirt in both hands and began running toward Katherine. In the next second, Katherine couldn't wait to be home. She tapped her heels against Nugget's sides and the horse broke into a canter.

They were twenty feet apart when Mother stopped abruptly. Her hand flew to her mouth. Katherine pulled so hard on the reins Nugget reared up and dropped to a standstill. Her mother stumbled backward, raising her arm as if to push Katherine away.

What was wrong?

Mother glanced over her shoulder at George, then back again to Katherine, both hands pressed over her mouth. Her soft blue eyes travelled from Katherine's left boot snug in the stirrup, up and over Katherine's leg clad in George's old breeches, filthy from so many days on the trail through dust and rain and nights sleeping on the ground. Her gaze continued past the grimy shirt and vest to Katherine's face, shadowed by a wide-brimmed hat.

Katherine had become so used to dressing like a boy she had forgotten how very different she must look. Even her own mother didn't recognize her. Katherine smiled. “It's me, Mother. It's Katherine.”

Mother's face hardened. Katherine bit her lip and stared down at her hands, twisting at the brown leather reins. Why had she ever thought her parents might understand, that they might even be grateful to her? She made a half-hearted attempt to explain. “I was afraid. I didn't want all those men out there to know I'm a girl because...”

“Katherine?” her mother interrupted. She ran to grab Nugget's bridle. “Get down from that horse this instant!”

Oh, Mother was so unfair!
Katherine pressed her lips together and held her anger inside as she swung her right leg over the horse, slipped her left foot from the stirrup and dropped easily to the ground. She had tried so very hard to do the right thing but, as usual, had only managed to upset her mother by breaking some stupid rule.
Young ladies must always wear a long dress, never breeches. Young ladies must always ride side-saddle, never astride a horse.

What would people think?

With the reins clutched tightly in her hand, Katherine pressed close against the soft, reassuring warmth of Nugget's side and breathed in the strangely comforting scent of horse. She couldn't turn around and face her mother's anger. She simply could not.

“Katherine.” Unexpectedly strong hands clasped her shoulders and swung her around.

Katherine stared at the hard line of her mother's lips, shut her eyes tight, and fought for composure. How could she make Mother understand? She opened her eyes. “Mother, I...” But her voice cracked, and she couldn't go on.

Mother's grasp slid to Katherine's upper arms. She studied her daughter's face as if she had never seen it before. “Katie? Oh, Katie, just look at you!” She reached up and whipped the hat off Katherine's head. “Your poor hair! You look exactly like a boy and I'm so...” Mother frowned. All traces of anger spilled out of her, suddenly, in the space of a breath. Her shoulders sagged and tears sprang into her eyes. “I'm so grateful to you.”

Katherine couldn't believe what she heard. Grateful? Mother? To her?

Mother slipped an arm around her shoulders. “It was so clever of you to dress as a boy, Katie. With all those rough men arriving here from all parts of the world and so few women to remind them how to behave, a young girl cannot be too careful.”

Katherine nodded, unable to speak.

“Come now, your father is waiting.”

“Is he feeling better then?”

“Much. But he is unable to walk without help.”

Katherine stood in front of her father. He looked so tired and frail leaning on George that she could scarcely comprehend he was the same man she had known all her life. The man who always got his own way, the angry man who frightened her with his harsh words and disapproving looks. Even more confusing were the tears that filled his chocolate-brown eyes.

“Kate,” he whispered, and reached out to gently touch her cheek with his fingertips. “I was so afraid we would never see you again. We had no idea where you went.”

“I'm sorry Father. I never meant to worry you, but I thought, with you being injured and all, we would need George to finish the well and barn and help get things ready for winter. I knew, if I asked, you would never let me go after him.”

“Quite right.” He pulled himself up a little taller, pushing away from George. “It is not fitting for a girl...”

“Peter! Not now,” Mother interrupted.

Katherine stared at her parents, back and forth, one and the other. She wondered if there had been some huge mistake. Had she somehow stumbled into the wrong family? These people simply did not fit. Her mother never contradicted her father, not ever. If anyone in the family so much as disagreed with the tiniest thing he said, Father always got so angry his face turned purple and he spit out stupid, hurtful words that did not make any sense at all.

Katherine glanced at her brother. George stood absolutely still. His mouth gaped open and he eyed their parents as if he had no idea who they were. Then his eyes rolled to Katherine, his mouth snapped shut and he raised his eyebrows, up and down, up and down.

She grinned.

They both turned to Father who looked exhausted, as if the effort of getting angry was simply too much for him. He swayed on his feet, and Katherine took his arm to support him. “It's so good to be home!” she said, and meant it.