Chapter 1, Reminisces
Kate Donovan wondered how her life had gotten to this point. She knew how, of course,-after all she had been there as it happened, but wondered why exactly she had let it come to be.
Of a naturally optimistic and cheerful nature, she wasn't a woman who looked back very often. She preferred to focus on the here and now, not some distant yesterday beyond her ability to change, and not on some unforeseen future. That characteristic, living for the here-and-now, probably had a bit to do with her present situation.
She glanced around the shack, a lean-to made up of weather beaten boards with cracks that not only could you see the day light through, but that you could also get wet from rain and cold from wind and snow. The dirt floor was damp and chilly and the creatures that crawled across it were not exactly welcomed inhabitants. The one window let in plenty of light, however, now that the oiled paper that served for a pane had peeled and cracked and blown away in last night's storm.
Worst of all was the little stove on the side, that did little to keep the family warm, but constantly belched grey smoke into the little shack so that there was always an asthmatic cough and a sting in her dry, blood shot eyes.
Such a contrast to anywhere she'd ever lived before. Born in Boston to a pair of Irish house servants her life had not had much power or wealth of her own, but the little house behind the Grand manse had at least been clean, warm, and comfortable. And her belly had always been full. She was lucky, she knew that. None of the other Irish she knew had had it so good. Her father was the driver for the Hallen family, and he was a jolly, amicable man who was generally liked wherever he went, and who took his duty in care for the horses and the fine carriages seriously, and his employers found him indispensable.
Her mother had been the household supervisor second only to Mrs. Hallen herself, and she ran things with a remarkable warmth and efficiency. She was a robust, rosy cheeked woman, forever singing a soft, wistful tune, and she had a fine lilting voice to aid her in her work. She smiled easily, could handle multiple tasks at once, and proved herself as valuable as her husband in ensuring the smooth goings on of the family.
Thus Patrick and Bridie O'Roarke gave their wee young daughter a happy childhood. Katie had been a good child, well-liked by the owners of the house and had been permitted to sit in the library when the Governess told of Greek and Roman heroes, gods and goddesses, Knights and their ladies, and boys who rubbed magic lamps with genies inside. Her job was to daily sweep and dust over the library, and she made it a point to be done by the story—later called the literature-hour. She had passed the hours dreaming that her broom handle was some tall prince come to slay a dragon and carry her away to his castle in the clouds. At night she lay awake trembling deliciously in terror as her father related tales of banshees and leprechauns and faerie queens who rode winged horses among the stars in the sky. Needless to say, Kate had always been a bit of a dreamer.
When she was eighteen, she accompanied young Miss Jane Hallen to St. Louis, where she relocated with her new husband Geoff Keller. She was to assume the position in their household that her mother held in Boston, and she did so with vigor and enthusiasm, seeing St. Louis as an exciting adventure and all over grand time. It had been, while it lasted. Mr. Keller began to take not a little fancy to his pretty strawberry blond housekeeper, forever commenting upon the blush of her cheeks and the roundness of her bosom. He waited for her everywhere, and for all her appeals to the Blessed Virgin, he did not stop in his pursuit. Kate, having always been fond of Jane, had resigned her position and took up cleaning and cooking on the riverboats of the Mississippi.
She enjoyed her time on the riverboats, as well. There she saw women in beautiful dresses fanning themselves as they sat on the laps of men throwing dice and smoking cigars. It was all very exciting and new, and she constantly occupied her mind with little fantasies of these dashing men and their beautifully painted up ladies, and she did not mind her work much.
She made friends with one such lady, a tall girl from New Orleans, named Kitty Russell. Kitty was new to the riverboats but not to gambling and men and she was the foremost dealer on board. She had come with a man named
Cole Yankton, as his guest. She had told Kate happily that they were going to be married soon, and Kate had hoped so, due to the delicate nature of their association. She found Kitty crying on deck alone one rainy morning when the pretty redhead had woke to find herself alone, all her money-what little she'd had-gone. But Kitty was resilient and finding herself unable to pay her fare when the boat docked again in New Orleans, she took a job on board as a dealer and general decoration and she roomed with Kate.
The two became great friends and it had been Kitty who had convinced her to leave the Mississippi.
"I can't take it anymore. I'm going west."
"Where?" Kate had asked her.
"I don't know. I'm going to go until my money runs out. Eventually San Francisco. But I do know one thing; I can't stay on this damned river boat a day longer."
Kate had gone with her. She couldn't afford the fare back to Boston, and she had no other close friend. They got as far as Abilene. She had wanted to work in the saloon with Kitty, but Kitty would have none of it. No woman would work there if she could help it, Kitty said. It was all she knew. So Kitty entertained the men at night in the local water hole, and Kate scrubbed the floors and worked in the only restaurant in town.
It was in Abilene that she had met Jack. He was in town drinking off a months' pay and he had stumbled into the café early one morning for black coffee when she was opening up. He was rather handsome and charming when he was sober, which he was that day, having run out of money. She being one of only a dozen or so women in town and one of the five who didn't work in the saloon, he gave her quite a bit of attention. She married him. And it went downhill from there.
Kitty moved on again. This time she went North, hoping to eventually get to San Francisco, but Kate had heard from one of the cowboys that he'd seen her living in a town called Dodge City, in Kansas. Jack had been out of work since the day after the wedding, and he spent her meager wages drinking away his desire to go out and find a job.
Kate began to foresee her miserable existence with Jack Donovan. She would have left, moved on and made her own way as before, and was planning to do just that—when a case of morning sickness and a fainting spell one Sunday during mass at the mission had confirmed her suspicions and bound her to this poor excuse for a man forever. Little Thomas was born that fall, and things improved for a time. Jack, feeling a shallow responsibility as a father took a job on a local ranch, and the family was fed for some time until he realized that it would be of advantage to him to retire and Kate to go to doing people's laundry.
Tom grew into a fine, strong, boy. She had a letter sent to her parents in Boston, but never let on about her situation. She knew they would have sent her the money to join them, but she couldn't face the Hallen family who were still curious to know the true reason she had quit their daughter, and her parents were getting on in age and needed their money. So Kate took in laundry. And mending. And whatever else might bring in a dollar or two.
She miscarried in June. Jack felt a bit of guilt and took a job once again, only to lose it three months later. The following year, she gave birth to Isabelle, named after a queen she had heard about in one of Jane's history lessons back in Boston. Her daughter would need all the help she could get.
She amused her young children by telling them wonderful stories as she washed. They played beside her on the river bank while listening to tales of princesses who slept for a hundred years, of beautiful girls locked in towers with long golden braids, and of magical beans that grew stalks into the clouds and led to giants' castles and geese who laid golden eggs. And so her children were not disillusioned with life as Kate might have been, and they provided the only joy of her existence.
In a fleeting ambitious moment Jack had taken a small homestead in South Western Kansas. He had moved the family there, to a dismally dry and cracked land, where the heat baked down upon you by day, and a stinging wind whipped you and threw dust in your eyes. But Dodge was the nearest town, though it was a good day's ride away, and Kate longed for the day when they might go into town for supplies and she might find Kitty again.
Weeks passed, and there was no money for supplies and therefore no reason to go to Dodge that Jack could see. He, however, spent many a night drinking the last of Kate's savings at a little watering hole set up at a crossroads about 12 miles east.
Kate took the mule down for watering one morning and saw her reflection in the pool. It was the first time she had seen herself in perhaps a year. She gasped at the stranger looking back at her. The red gold hair that had once bounced freely about her shoulders and face was dim and limp now, and she had grown thin and sallow. Only her eyes looked the same. Those wonderfully blue, sparkling eyes that still held a flicker of her old self.
Shading her eyes against the sun, she caught site of her children, playing in the yard with a tumbleweed blowing in the breeze around them. She couldn't allow her children to go on in this manner. Tom ought to be in school, he was a bright boy, who was a bit too taciturn and reserved in Kate's opinion. Isabelle was a sweet, unassumingly affectionate child; she had a quick smile and forgiving heart, much like her mother. Neither child had been to mass in months. She was failing them as a mother.
She resolved some days later to go to Dodge. She would take the children; maybe Kitty could help her find a small room and some small job to do, that is if Kitty weren't in San Francisco by now. Kate smiled wistfully, Kitty wasn't one to let anyone stand in the way of her plans, she thought.
She gathered her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. She was cold all the time these days, even in the warm afternoon sun. She called to the children to come into dinner. They had corn meal mush, and not very much of it. Kate told them she would eat when their father came in from town, and gave them each half her portion. She went over into the corner where she patched a pair of Tom's trousers again, and resolved to leave with her children for Dodge just as soon as Jack got back and she could get the few coins he had left in the pocket of his coat when he fell into his drunken sleep.
He did not come back. Two weeks past. She had realized any money he might have had would be gone anyway, but it was a faint concern for him that she still waited. Day after day. But the corn meal ran out and she had nothing left to feed the children—maybe one day's worth. They would leave for Dodge in the morning. She pressed a handkerchief to her mouth as a cough racked her body. She was not alarmed to find bright red blood when she drew it away from her mouth. Why be alarmed? There was nothing she could do.
She gathered the children into bed with her at sundown, and told them of a wonderful adventure they were going to have, they were going to take the mule, and go to Dodge City. A wonderful place where her good friend Miss Kitty Russell lived and would help their mother find a job and soon they would have a house with no leaks, and they could go to school and play with other children. They fell asleep in their mother's arms, dreaming of a beautiful kingdom called Dodge City.
So that was how the irrepressible Kate Donovan had come to where she was, lying cold and ill in a lean-to in the middle of the Kansas prairie, abandoned by a drunken husband, thinking about all the events in her life that had led her to this point. There had been many, many more of course, but these were the memories that she ran through her mind. She fell asleep with her children lovingly wrapped in her arms and in equal captivation of the hope of leaving and starting a new life in Dodge City at daylight the next morning.
She would not wake up.