Chapter four

JOHN GRUNTED SLIGHTLY as he shifted the heavy cases he carried in both hands.

"Father didn't say you'd be wanting to tote half the house out here with us," he grumbled good-humoredly. It was a common sight to see young John Schroeder escorting the pretty Beecher girl about town.

Kate laughed and looked up at him fondly. "Oh John! How could I miss this opportunity to make photographs?"

He had seen traveling photographers, and his father had several examples of their craft hanging in the newspaper office, but he had never seen one made. He had also never seen a woman do anything of the kind. Secretly he was astonished that Kate could make those pictures he had seen at the Beecher house. Kate tried to explain the process to him, saying it was quite simple, but he could not grasp it. The mystery of it only served to elevate Kate in his eyes.

"Are you sure about all this?" he asked a bit suspiciously. In one of the cases he could hear liquid sloshing.

"Yes," she assured him. "This was my father's equipment, and I've helped him make photographs since I was a little girl. He grew tired of it, but I never have. It was the one thing I would not leave behind!" She looked around her at the sharply rising hills and the expanse of endless sky, and thought that she had never seen country more beautiful. "I can't wait to capture just a little of this on the plates."

"Humph. Just a roundup, like all the others," he complained, but he thought himself the most fortunate man in town and would gladly have carried the damn cases all day. "Say, why don't we go over under those trees. You can see the auction stand and the corrals across the yard."

Kate nodded her approval. Already she was amazed at the number of people filling the street. There was a contagious excitement in the air borne on the sounds of men shouting and agitated livestock snorting and whinnying. She was captivated by the sight of the large animals milling about in the pens, huge masses of restless power. The immediacy and urgency of life in this untamed place was thrilling.

The cowboys who tended the corrals leaned up against fences or trees, talking quietly in groups, sharing a smoke. They certainly didn't look like a wild bunch to Kate. She exposed several plates, anxious to depict the anticipation of the waiting stands before the auction began. It was a time-consuming process because she had to fix the wet plates almost immediately or the surface would dry and lose the image she had so carefully sought. She was just about to expose her last plate when she heard John at her elbow.

"Miss Kate, you'd better let me get that contraption out of here," he said urgently. "There's a herd coming this way and you're going to be mighty close."

"Just fifteen more seconds, John," Kate answered calmly. This was a good exposure, perhaps the best that morning, and she was not going to ruin it. It took her nearly an hour to prepare the mixture of egg precipitate and chemicals that coated the plates, and longer still to develop each one into a finished image.

"Please, Miss Kate!" John shouted, tugging at her sleeve.

Kate heard muffled shouts to her right and felt the tremble in her camera support as thundering hoof beats approached.

"Three, two, one .." she whispered, closing the shutter and lifting the cloth from her shoulders. "Oh!" she cried, grasping John's arm in stunned alarm. Not twenty feet away dozens of horses were streaming into an open pen as cowboys rode back and forth along the outskirts of the herd, trying to direct the fast moving animals into the corrals. Men surrounded her, shouting and waving their hats. A haze of dust billowed upward, engulfing her, and Kate stumbled backwards to the shelter of the trees, coughing and wiping dirt from her eves. John had the presence of mind to drag her camera back with him. He shouted something to her, but his words were lost in the uproar of bellowing men and rampaging horses.

Through eyes streaming with tears, Kate made out a dozen men herding the stragglers into the pen. The leader of the group leaned down from his saddle to swing the corral gate shut. With a quick flick of the horse's head, he turned toward Kate and John at a gallop. Kate drew a little closer to John as the horse and rider drew down upon them, kicking up clouds of dirt anew. Kate was sure that they were about to be trampled. When the charging horse was only feet away, or so it seemed to Kate, she saw the rider rise up out of the seat and dismount on the run.

Before Kate could catch her breath, the cowboy, caked in dirt from head to toe, grabbed John Schroeder by the shirtfront.

"Damn it, John! What's got into you, letting her get that close to the pens! If a stray got loose from that bunch, it could have run her down. I've a good mind to throw you into that corral over there and let my horses stomp some sense into you!"

Jessie Forbes was so mad she couldn't see straight. It was only because John Schroeder was a boy she liked that she didn't do more than shake him. She forced herself to let him go, turning to ask Kate, "Are you all right, Miss Beecher?"

Jessie's heart was still pounding with the sudden surge of panic she had experienced seeing Kate in the road as she led her herd down the main street into town. Already the horses in the lead had begun to spread out across the entire width of the road, and Jessie barely had time to direct the wranglers between Kate and the galloping horses. Another minute and Kate would have been under their hooves.

Kate stared open-mouthed at Jessie. Jessie's face was streaked with dirt and there was an angry welt running across her right cheek. Her shirt was plastered to her chest with sweat. She stood with her hands curled around the wide black holster, her long legs planted a little apart. Kate thought Jessie's hands trembled as they clenched the leather.

"It wasn't his fault," Kate croaked, her throat parched and sore from the dust.

Jessie finally remembered to sweep off her hat, and she forced a smile through her anger. "Now there you're wrong, Miss Beecher. It is right well his fault. He should have looked after you, being a newcomer. He knows what to expect around here on roundup day."

John nodded his head abashedly, having forgotten his initial scare when Jessie had grabbed him. He'd thought for a minute there he was in for a whupping, not that he didn't deserve it. "You're right, Jessie. She could have gotten..."

"Now just one minute," Kate returned hotly, her dark eyes blazing. "I am not a helpless child, you know. I have two legs, and I could have moved if I wanted to! I certainly do not need either one of you deciding where I should stand."

Jessie and John stared at her wordlessly and Kate stared back, her face flushed. She saw a grin begin to flicker across Jessie's fine mouth and Kate's anger slowly ebbed. Then Jessie tilted her head back and began to laugh, and, after a second, Kate joined her. John gaped at them as if they had both taken leave of their senses.

Jessie's tense body relaxed and she smiled down at Kate. "What was that thing you had out there anyhow?"

"A camera. I was trying to capture the feeling of this whole thing," Kate answered, taking in the street and the corrals with a sweep of her arm.

"Well, you almost got more of a feel for it than you bargained on, Miss Beecher."

"Kate," Kate softly said.

Jessie looked at her intently, her eyes sparkling. "Kate."

Kate studied Jessie with a worried expression. "You've hurt yourself."

"What?" Jessie replied, confused.

Kate's soft hand brushed gently across Jessie's face, touching the swollen cheek. Jessie blushed and turned her head away. "Oh, that's nothing. I've been having a running battle with a new stallion I've had the misfortune of acquiring. He and I don't see eye to eye on which one of us is the boss just yet."

"I find that hard to believe," Kate answered steadily, her dark eyes fixed on Jessie's face. Jessie struck her as the most capable woman she could imagine. I

Jessie wasn't sure why Kate's words stirred a flutter in her chest, but she cleared her throat and turned to John. "I've got to see to my horses, John. You make sure you take care of Kate, now."

"I will, Jessie," John mumbled contritely.

Kate placed her hand lightly on Jessie's sleeve and said boldly, "Would you show me your animals later?"

Jessie's body tensed. Damn if her arm didn't shake where Kate touched her! "Well, they're just horses, you know. Nothing special."

"Yes, but I'd like to see them," Kate insisted. She did want to know more about the roundup, but mostly she wanted an excuse to see more of this tough but strangely gentle woman.

"All right then," Jessie relented, surprised by Kate's request. It wasn't the sort of thing most women took a liking to. "I'll be busy most of the morning with the weighing. If you're here this afternoon, I'll be happy to show you."

Kate smiled softly. "I'll be here."

Kate watched as Jessie mounted and rode quickly back to the corral, calling to her men as she went. Kate thought she was quite the most dashing figure of a cowboy.