Nashville-Stockton, 1894
I was fourteen when I was invited to my first cotillion. Mother and Papa simply said I was too young, and that was the end of it until Amanda twitted me.
�Really, Kate, your parents treat you like an infant! You can�t go to the sweet shop with us after school or walk in the park on Saturdays without a chaperone, and your hair�no one else still wears their hair in braids! They really do keep you under wraps!�
By the time I arrived home from school that afternoon, I was furious�although I wasn�t sure exactly why or at whom. Tossing my books on the parlor table where I�d do my lessons after dinner, I went straight back out the front door and around the house to play with my dogs, Arthur and Guin, instead of going through the kitchen to say hello to Mother.
Arthur and Guin were getting up in years, but they were still good for a romp. Guin had started life with me as Guinivere until Gene had pronounced her to be a him. I was disappointed, but Mother said it was a relief to know that little Knights of the Round Table wouldn�t be trampling her flowers.
That afternoon we ran as far as our lot extended and back almost to the house at least four times before we all fell in a heap. Arthur didn�t mind me using his back for a pillow, and I did so now, fixing my attention on the gray clouds drifting across the autumn sky. Beside me, Guin panted noisily, wetting the sleeve of my dress where I had draped an arm around his neck.
From the time I was small, I�d liked finding pictures in the clouds. Oddly enough, one reappeared at regular intervals, and I saw it now�the vague outline of a girl�s face, a girl about my age who looked like me. I�d named her Annie which was almost all I knew about the mother who had given birth to me.
�I guess you didn�t have to worry about anybody keeping you under wraps,� I murmured. �You were out on your own, working in a saloon, when you were my age.� The day was warm, but I shivered. Arthur raised his head to gaze briefly in my direction, then dropped it on his paws again. No one had treated Annie like an infant, but they had treated her shamefully, and I was the result.
�You never got an invitation to a cotillion either, I bet. Or went to a school like Miss Beauville�s with a bunch of silly girls who never have a thought in their heads but for silk hose and parties and boys!� I lifted my leg with it�s black cotton stocking that disappeared into a neat black oxford. �Ugh!� I muttered, screwing up my face.
�Kate!�
It was Mother calling me from the kitchen door. For the first time in my life, I didn�t answer her. Almost immediately she was standing over me. �Kate�I didn�t hear you come in from school�and I guess you didn�t hear me calling you.�
I didn�t look at her. �I�m sorry, Mother.�
She dropped down on the grass beside me. �It�s not like you to come in and go out again this way. Is something wrong?�
�No, Mother.�
She didn�t say anything for a few minutes. �Well, it�s almost time for your father to be home, so feed the dogs, then go and change your dress for dinner.� She rose gracefully. I watched her small, straight back until it disappeared inside.
Arthur and Guin followed me to the shed where I took their clean dishes from the shelf by the door and filled them with the special mixture that Papa ordered from Bartlett�s Feed Store in town. It was expensive, but Papa said that the dogs were worth it.
Then I rinsed their water bowl and refilled it.
�What a life the two of you live�everything gets done for you! You don�t have a worry in the world!� They�d forgotten me in favor of their dinner. �Boy howdy!� My brother Heath always said boy howdy. My brother Nick had a few more colorful exclamations, but I knew better than to use them, even when Mother wasn�t within hearing distance.
I raced through the kitchen and up the back stairs with only a mumbled greeting for Mrs. Bonds, our housekeeper who had been with us ever since we moved to Nashville.
In her eyes, I could do no wrong�even when she saw me do it. �Kate has a burr under her saddle blanket about something, � I heard Mother say as I hit the landing.
I�d just unbraided my hair when I heard Mother in the hall. She always changed her dress just before Papa came home. He liked an early dinner, and he liked his ladies freshly clad. Mother said it was our most important responsibility to please him. �He gives so much of himself, Kate, and asks so little in return.�
Picking up the hairbrush, I tugged it through my thick, wavy hair. Though Amanda said my single braid was unstylish and old-fashioned, it was practical. Papa wouldn�t let me wear my hair up yet, and left to its own devices, it went a dozen directions even when the wind wasn�t blowing.
Mother�s hair was fine and soft, and she wore it pulled back on her neck. She said it had been white since she was barely forty. Audra�s hair, though still blonde, was like Mother�s. She could arrange it in the morning, and it remained perfect throughout the day. Sometimes I wondered if my hair was like Annie�s. Lately I wondered a lot of things about myself.
********
�Did you have a good day at school, Kate?�
�Yes, Papa.� I kept my eyes on my plate.
�How did the mathematics examination go?�
�All right.�
I glanced up in time to see Mother and Papa exchange one of those long, silent looks that spoke volumes. Usually dinner was one of my favorite times when we all shared the events of our day. But tonight I didn�t feel like talking�or eating.
After dinner I cleared the table for Mrs. Bonds, but on my way to the parlor, I wondered if there was some way I could get out of joining Mother and Papa there for the evening. Unfortunately, my books were on the table, and I had a long list of lessons to prepare for the next day.
Just outside the parlor door, I paused to listen, even though I knew that eavesdropping was wrong. �Kate is unhappy tonight,� Papa said.
�I think we have to face it, Royce. Kate is growing up. She�s fourteen. Her moods aren�t uncommon for girls that age.�
�Has she commenced. . . ah. . .�
�Yes.�
My face flamed. How could Mother discuss such intimate things with Papa?
�Was Audra moody?�
�At fourteen, Audra was a spoiled little tyrant, and there was nothing I could do about it.�
�I can�t think of her that way.�
�She was Tom Barkley�s daughter. But Kate is your daughter, Royce. I�ve always believed that her sweet nature comes from you�
Papa chuckled. �And her stubbornness from you?�
�Thank god, she doesn�t have my temper!�
�You�ve spoken of your temper, my love, yet I�ve never seen it.�
�Well, perhaps with age, I�ve outgrown it�and Kate will leave her moods behind, too.�
�She�s been such an easy child. I hate to think that�s ended.�
�We got her through teething, weaning from the bottle, and out of diapers. We�ll weather this, too.�
Papa sighed, and the sad sound broke my heart. Forgetting my pique, I rushed into the parlor and threw myself into his lap and began to cry. His warm, strong arms tightened around me. He didn�t speak, but his understanding silence said everything.
Part II
Papa brought home tickets to a Mendelssohn concert for the night of the cotillion. Mother and I wore blue silk dresses, and because the evenings were chillier now, she said that our furs were appropriate. Mine was a dainty white fox cape that fastened at the throat with a silver starburst, and I felt beyond elegant whenever I wore it.
Following the performance, Papa took us to Pietro�s for a late supper. Many of my parents� friends were there, but I was the only person under twenty. Several people made it a point to come by our table and speak to us. Without exception, they commented on my presence.
�Your daughter is growing up, Royce,� one older man said. I sat up straighter, but I didn�t speak since he hadn�t addressed me.
�Little girls have a way of turning into young ladies,� Papa replied. �One can�t hold back time.�
�Well, enjoy her while you can. In a few years, she�ll fly the nest forever.�
Papa smiled. �We�ve enjoyed every day of her lovely life and shall continue to do so.�
�Ben Endacott and his wife had only one daughter,� Mother told me later while she was brushing my hair before bed. �She married at eighteen, the son of a French diplomat I believe, and has lived abroad ever since. Ben and Edna have never seen two of their three grandchildren.�
�She doesn�t come home to visit?�
�No.�
�That�s very sad. I�d never do that.�
�You�ll grow up and leave home someday, Kate darling. That�s part of life.�
I started to say that I�d never live that far away from Papa and her, and then I remembered that they might not be with me when I was married and a mother. Unexpectedly, I burst into tears.
As Papa had done, Mother comforted me in silence, then tucked me into bed. �You are loved, Kate.� It was the last thing she said to me every night, and maybe I�d begun to take it for granted. Tonight, though, I understood the full meaning of those words.
I didn�t want Papa to know I�d been crying, and if Mother had told him, he didn�t mention it when he came in to say goodnight.
�Thank you for tonight, Papa. I loved the concert and supper at Pietro�s. The fountain in the middle reminds me of Jarrod�s fishpond.� I giggled. �He was so mad at Trevor and me for wading in it that summer!�
�Ah, yes, the Outlaw Summer.� He chuckled. �I believed he�s softened since then.�
�Papa�am I spoiled?�
�Certainly not! Where did you acquire that idea?�
�I don�t know. I do have a great deal, you know. My wardrobe is overflowing, and I�ve been to Europe, and Miss Beauville�s is a very expensive school.�
�Those are advantages, Kate.�
�Papa�are we very rich?�
He frowned. �We�re quite comfortable. Why do you ask?�
�You and Mother were poor when you were my age, and so were many of the people in history and the characters in the books I read. I just wondered if being poor makes you a better person than being rich.�
�Perhaps, in some instances, being poor makes you more aware of your advantages.�
�Do you think I�m not?�
�On the contrary, the first thing you did tonight when I came in was to thank me for taking you to the concert and to supper. I think you�re quite appreciative of what you have.� He leaned over and kissed my forehead. �We want you to be happy, Kate.�
�I�m very happy, Papa.�
He smiled. �Then that�s all that matters. Sleep well, precious. You are loved.�
*******
On Monday, Amanda could talk of nothing else but the cotillion�her dress, her hair, her well-filled dance card. I listened politely and without comment. �I suppose you mourned the entire weekend,� she finished dramatically.
�Not at all. Papa had tickets for the Mendelssohn concert, and we went to Pietro�s for a late supper.�
Her eyes flashed. �Pietro�s? That�s the most exclusive restaurant in Nashville?�
�Is it?�
�You know it is! It�s very expensive, too!�
�I wouldn�t know about that.�
She narrowed her eyes. �Honestly, Kate, your parents are so. . .so. . .well, everyone knows that your father is rich as Midas, but you live like a. . .a plebian! You live in the plainest house and don�t keep servants, and you�re not allowed any privileges at all! And then you do something like going to Pietro�s.�
It was a struggle to hold my temper. �What we have and what we do with it isn�t your business, Amanda.�
�My father says. . .�
�I don�t care what your father says!� I gathered my books from my shelf in the cloakroom and stalked off. Again, I arrived home seething, threw down my books, and sneaked around to the back, avoiding Mother in the kitchen. I played with Arthur and Guin, then fed them, and went into the house before I had to be called.
�Goodness, you�re flushed, Kate!� Mother said, stopping what she was doing to kiss my cheek. �You�re not feeling ill, are you?�
�No, Mother.� I edged toward the back stairs.
She started to say something, then evidently thought the better of it. Escaping to my room I threw myself down on the rug in front of the small fire in the grate to further consider Amanda�s words. She�d called our house plain, and compared to the Cummings� mansion, I had to admit that it was. I remembered looking at other houses before we moved to Nashville, but this was the one that Mother had liked. I loved the huge trees and the broad expanse of lawn in the back. Papa said we would be happy here, and we were.
The house was white frame and only two stories, but it had a wonderful wrap-around porch that had been, in turn, a castle, a dungeon, a magic kingdom, and anything else I wanted it to be. I�d spent endless hours reading in a sunny or shady spot, depending on the weather. Mother and Papa and I liked to sit outside on summer evenings, and, after setting up practice in Nashville, Eugene and Lucy often joined us.
The house was larger than it looked though. A parlor, formal dining room, library, a study for Papa, and a spacious kitchen took up the downstairs. On the second floor there were six bedrooms, two of which had sitting rooms adjoining.
As for servants, Mrs. Bonds had been our housekeeper since we arrived, but she didn�t live in. Mr. George came regularly to keep the grass trimmed and often helped Mother in the garden and kept the house outside in perfect repair. He was younger than Silas, but his parents had been born into slavery. Like them, he�d never had the chance for an education, but his twin daughters, Louise and Letty, who were just younger than me, attended the colored school on the edge of town, and he was determined that they would go to college. Mother gave them clothes from my bountiful wardrobe as soon as I outgrew them�which I did so quickly that they were almost new. Mr. George said they were the best-dressed girls in the entire school�and the smartest. Mother said it was being the smartest that counted most.
His wife, Mrs. Ella, came once a week to help with the laundry. She had a beautiful voice and could sing high or low with equal ease. Mother said she was a contralto and that, had Negroes had better opportunities, Mrs. Ella would have gone places with her talent. My voice was passable, and we often sang together as she scrubbed the linens on the washboard outside, and I hung them up to dry.
That was another thing that Amanda had twitted me about�that I had chores to do at home. Mother said that a well-brought-up-young lady knew how to work. I took care of my room, set the table and cleared it after every meal, took care of Arthur and Guin, and helped Mrs. Ella with the wash. Actually, helping with the wash had been my own idea. It gave me an excuse to coax her to sing.
I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. Until recently, life had been blissfully uncomplicated, but all of a sudden, I felt unsettled and confused. Was it because, as Mother had said, I was fourteen? Why did things have to change just because I reached a certain age? Or had things really changed? Was it just me?
�Kate?� Mother�s voice at the door brought me to my feet. She opened the door a little. �Why, Kate, you�re not dressed for dinner.�
I jumped up. �I�ll be ready in just a few minutes, Mother. I�m sorry.�
�Are you sure you�re feeling well?�
�I�m fine, honestly.�
She looked like she didn�t believe me. �All right then. It�s almost time for your father, and you know he likes to sit down to dinner on time.�
�I�ll be ready.� I began to unbraid my hair. �I�ll hurry.�
I eavesdropped again at the parlor door after dinner.
�I�m not sure that Miss Beauville�s is an appropriate environment for her any longer,� Mother was saying.
�She�s doing well in her studies.�
�I don�t mean academically.�
�Socially then.�
�Yes.�
�The best families send their daughters there.�
�The wealthiest, Royce. That doesn�t mean they�re the best.�
�No, but. . .�
�I�m concerned about her associations�namely Amanda Cummings.�
�I know you don�t care for her mother.�
�I dislike her heartily!�
Papa laughed.
�I�m serious, Royce.�
�I know you are. Well, perhaps a sabbatical is in order. We could leave for the ranch early this year�say the first of November.�
�Can you be away from your business so long?�
�I see no reason why not. Lindall can handle things and contact me if there�s an important decision to be made. And Rand will be closer in New Orleans and can come to Nashville if there�s a crisis�which I don�t anticipate.�
�All right then. I�ll speak with Miss Beauville tomorrow about withdrawing Kate until after the first of the year. She can bring her books along to the ranch and work by herself. In fact, she might go to school in Stockton for two months.�
�Perhaps we should discuss it with her.�
�Tonight then.�
I retraced my steps to the kitchen, then came back to the parlor in such a way as to announce my presence.
�Ah, Kate,� Papa said. �We were waiting for you.�
�Come and sit down, darling.� Mother patted the settee beside her. �We want to talk to you.�
I sat down and waited.
�What would you think of going to the ranch around the first of November this year?�
�What about school?�
�You�re so far ahead, Kate. You can take your books, and your father and I can help you with your lessons. Or, you could go to school in Stockton.�
�In Stockton?� I was glad I knew what was coming. �What fun!�
Papa nodded. �It will be change for you.�
�I need a change!� I exploded.
Mother and Papa exchanged another one of those long looks.
�Suppose you explain yourself, Kate,� Papa said.
�I�m so tired of Amanda twitting me about. . .� I stopped, thinking I might have gone too far.
�Go on,� Mother urged.
�Oh, you know Amanda! She hasn�t got an idea in her head except for fashion and society!�
�More�s the pity.�
�Well, you know yourself, Mother, that she�s silly!�
Mother sighed. �It�s not entirely her fault, you know.�
�I know, but I�m tired of her telling me that I�m. . .that you�re. . .� My face flamed again.
�That we�re old-fashioned,� Mother finished for me.
I nodded.
�What do you think, Kate?�
�It all started with that ridiculous cotillion!�
�Did you want to go?�
�Not really. No�not at all.�
Papa looked relieved. �We did feel that you were too young, precious.�
�It�s all right, Papa.� I turned to Mother again. �I can really go to school in Stockton?�
�I�ll write to Jarrod and have him speak with the principal at the high school.�
�And may I wear split skirts and waists and riding boots?�
�You may dress appropriately�in line with the other girls.�
I wrinkled my nose. �Bother appropriate!�
Mother shook her head at me, but she was smiling. �You should begin preparing your lessons for tomorrow, Kate.� She went to light Papa�s cigar. �I�ll have George bring down the trunks from the attic tomorrow, and we�ll think about packing in the next few weeks.�
Part III
Mother enrolled me at the high school in Stockton on the Monday after we arrived at the ranch. The principal Mr. Bowen, a middle-aged man from back east somewhere, gave us a tour of the building that had just been completed a year earlier. �We�re hoping to fund a new grammar school soon,� he told us. �But with more students staying in school longer these days, the high school took priority.�
The two-story brick building was architecturally uninteresting, but the halls and classrooms still had a fresh new smell. As we traversed the shiny hardwood floors, I glanced into the classrooms. Several of the teachers were men�something unheard of at Miss Beauville�s. And I was pleased to see that many of the girls wore split skirts, waists, and riding boots. It made sense�they probably rode into town from outlying ranches.
Back in the office, Mr. Bowen handed me a schedule of classes and asked me about books. �You can purchase what you need at Harder�s�that�s the stationer�s shop at the end of Main Street. You should speak with your teachers about the required texts. Now, Mrs. Wardell, would you like for Katherine to begin today?�
�I think so. I�ll send someone in for you this afternoon, Kate. You can wait at Jarrod�s office if necessary.� She kissed me. �Have a pleasant day, darling.�
When she had gone, Mr. Bowen took me to class. �This is second hour already�that will be English composition for you. The teacher is Mr. Prentiss.�
Everyone turned to stare at me when we entered the room. �This is Katherine Wardell,� Mr. Bowen announced. �She�ll be joining us temporarily.�
Mr. Prentiss pointed to a desk at the back of the room. �I�d just assigned a brief essay on Thoreau. Are you familiar with Thoreau, Miss Wardell?�
�Yes, sir.� I took a tablet and pencil from my satchel.
�Excellent. The topic is on the board behind me. You may begin whenever you�re ready.�
We�d read extensively from Thoreau�s Walden at Miss Beauville�s the year before, but as he was one of Papa�s favorites, I�d listened to Mother read aloud at home, too. I smiled and began to write.
No one spoke to me until after fourth hour when a long bell rang. �That�s lunch,� said the girl sitting next to me.
�Where do we eat?� Silas had supervised the packing of my lunch right after breakfast. Though he was supposed to be retired and living in the house that Nick and Heath had built for him just a stone�s throw from the main house, he still came in daily to see that Mrs. Montoya was doing things the way he thought they should be done.
�In good weather, anywhere we like. It�s warm enough to sit outside today.�
I followed her outside to a circular bench under a huge tree. �You�re only here temporarily?� she asked as she opened an old-fashioned lard tin containing her lunch.
�Until after Christmas.� I unwrapped a ham sandwich that bore Silas�s distinctive quarter-cut. �We live in Tennessee, but we�re visiting family.�
�Who is your family?�
�The Barkleys.�
Her eyes widened. �The Barkleys?�
�My brothers and sister.�
�Your brother is Nick Barkley?�
�One of them.�
�So Mrs.Erskine must be your sister.�
�Audra�that�s right.�
�But they�re all�a lot older!�
�They could be my parents, I know.�
The girl took out a large slice of bread and beef. �I�m sorry�I don�t mean to be nosy.�
�It�s all right. My mother is�was Victoria Barkley�and then she married my father, and then they adopted me from the orphanage here in Stockton.�
She choked on the bite she�d just taken. I beat her back between her shoulder blades. �It�s not that startling,� I said.
She wiped her eyes. �It�s just that I�m from the orphanage, too.�
�Then you know Audra.�
�Yes�she�s wonderful.�
�I think so, too. How long have you lived there?�
�Since I was ten�four years. My parents died from diphtheria. My brother was already in the army, so there wasn�t any other place for me to go.�
�The Gordons are good people.�
�Yes, I like them very much.� She paused. �You know, we�from the orphanage�aren�t really accepted here at school. You being a Barkley, well, you�ll want to make your friends from the others.�
�The others?�
�You know, from the people who are important.�
�You�re not important?�
Her face flushed.
�I�m teasing you.� I leaned closer and lowered my voice. �Listen�I was born in a line shack on the Houghten Ranch, and if one of their hands hadn�t been riding by and heard me cry, I�d be dead just like the girl who had me. I was just lucky that Mother and Papa were visiting for Christmas and decided to take me. Besides, I�m only part Barkley�my name is Wardell. Katherine Barkley Wardell, but my friends call me Kate. It would be nice to know what to call you, too.�
�Ginny. Ginny Barton.�
�Do you like school, Ginny? I mean, do you really like to learn, or do you just go because. . .�
�I like it,� she interrupted. �I�m a very good student.�
�So am I. Will we be in competition?�
�That depends on how long you�ll be here.�
�Unfortunately, not long. We�ll go back to Nashville after Christmas.�
�That�s too bad.�
�I�m beginning to think so, too.�
Ginny and I became good friends and often studied together during last hour, which was preparation time. Our marks kept pace, but we weren�t really competing to be the best. It was more like we were challenging each other to do the best. I invited her to the ranch frequently, and Mrs. Gordon always let her come. I could tell that Mother approved of her as much as she didn�t approve of Amanda.
On Christmas Eve, when we went to the orphanage, I wondered if Ginny would feel uncomfortable about having me there. I didn�t have to worry. She greeted me warmly and hurried me upstairs to help her supervise the little ones who had to be dressed from the skin out. Mother spoke to Mrs. Gordon about letting Ginny come home with us for the night and all of Christmas Day. We stayed awake talking and giggling until Mother came in and told us that if we didn�t get quiet, she�d have us both up before the crack of dawn hunting our breakfast eggs in the barn.
�It�s the outlaw summer all over again,� I whispered to Ginny when Mother left. Then I had to tell her the story, and we had to bury our faces in the pillows because we were laughing so hard.
It was a wrench to leave the ranch�and Ginny�the day after New Year�s. Nick brought her to the station as a surprise, and we hugged and cried until he said he guessed he�d done the wrong thing. �Not at all,� Mother said. �They�re girls, and they�re fourteen, and they�re enjoying themselves.�
He stomped around muttering about how he�d never understand women and how glad he was that he and Charlotte only had boys.
As the train pulled away, I waved from the window until I couldn�t see Ginny anymore. Papa offered me his clean handkerchief. I mopped my eyes. �Did you really want to stay, Kate precious?� he asked.
�No, I want to go home.�
�That�s the best place to be,� Mother said in her no-nonsense way.
�I even want to go back to school at Miss Beauville�s.�
She raised her eyebrows. �Really?�
�It was nice to get away, but I need to go back.�
�And why is that, Kate?� Papa indicated that I should keep the handkerchief which was, by now, quite damp.
�Well, you put me there because it�s a good school, and you wanted me to get a good education.�
�That�s right.� Papa patted me affectionately.
�But I�m not like the others�like Amanda.�
�Oh?� Mother�s eyebrows went up again.
�And you�re not like her mother, and I�m glad.�
Mother smiled. �So am I.�
�But it was bothering me a little�that I�m not like them, I mean. Amanda made me mad with some of her silly talk. I guess I needed to meet a friend like Ginny and find out that it�s all right to be different.�
�Of course, it is!� Papa affirmed.
�Are you still angry, Kate?� Mother asked.
�I wasn�t. . .� She fixed me with that look that said, I know what you�re thinking, so you may as well come clean. I laughed. �Yes, I was. I was angry, but it was at myself for even caring what Amanda and the others thought about the way our family does things. But I�m not anymore�honestly.�
�That�s good.� This time Mother�s look was one of approval, and I basked in it.
�You must be your own person, Kate�always.� Papa patted me again.
�I guess I had to find out who that was,� I replied.
�And do you know now?� Mother asked.
�I still wonder about things, I suppose. A little�not much.�
�About Annie.� It wasn�t a question.
I nodded.
�Dr. Merar felt she wasn�t much older than you are now.�
�I�ve thought of that. It�s an odd feeling to know that I�m going to be older than she ever got to be.�
�I�m older than my mother ever got to be. As my life unfolded, I wondered how her life might have turned out under different circumstances. I wondered what she might have been like at forty or fifty�or even sixty-five!�
I didn�t like to be reminded of my parents� ages and didn�t reply.
�But in the end, I couldn�t have been her anyway. I had to be who I was�who I am�and so do you.�
�Sometimes it�s like trying to grasp a shadow,� I murmured. �That�s all she is�all she�ll ever be.� Papa�s handkerchief was put to use again but only briefly. �Nick says I�m like you.�
�I hope I�ve given you the best in me, Kate darling.�
Papa took her hand. �There�s nothing but the best in you, Victoria my love.�
I giggled. �Oh, Papa, you�re so romantic!�
He leaned over and kissed Mother�s cheek. �I hope so.�
�Actually, Nick says I�m stubborn like you are, Mother.�
�That sounds like Nick.�
�Nick�s stubborn, too, isn�t he?�
�As stubborn as that old mule Tom kept around for a pet even after it wouldn�t do anymore work. Nick slept in the barn for a week just to be sure his father didn�t shoot it.�
�Well, I�d rather be stubborn than wishy-washy like Amanda. She doesn�t know what she thinks until someone tells her what to think.�
�You must be tolerant of her, Kate,� Papa admonished.
�Oh, I tolerate her, Papa. It isn�t easy, but I do.� I took a book out of my traveling bag and settled back against the plush seat.
�Teething, weaning from the bottle, and diapers,� Mother said to Papa. �I told you we�d get through this, too.�
I hid my smile behind the book.
*********
From the journal of Dr. Katherine Barkley Wardell:
Though I occasionally wondered where I came from, I never doubted who I was. I returned to school with a new understanding of myself�and thus of my friends, even Amanda.
Ginny and I corresponded regularly. Much to the chagrin of some of Stockton�s �first families�, she was named valedictorian of the first graduating class of Stockton High School and was accepted at Pepperdine where she received a degree in American literature the same year that I finished Vanderbilt. Later, she went on to earn a doctorate and became a member of the faculty at her alma mater.
She married shortly after I did and had a son. We made it a point to make time for a visit each time I visited the ranch. When I made what I knew would be my last trip, my daughter Vicky took me to visit Ginny, whose deteriorating health kept her confined to her home. We spent a pleasant afternoon remembering old times and agreeing that we had fulfilled our dreams.
�Did you know that your father paid for my undergraduate education?� she asked just before I left.
�Papa?�
�I worked, of course, but my main expenses were paid through what the registrar called a �special scholarship.� I didn�t know until much later that your father sent a check every term.. When I joined the faculty, I had access to my old records and read them out of curiosity. He�d died two years before, so I never had a chance to thank him.�
�I talked about you to my parents, so they knew what a grand success you�d made of your life. I expect that�s the only thanks Papa wanted.�
�Well, I�m glad of that then.�
�He was proud of both of us, Ginny. He used to say that the greatest success a person could have in life was to be oneself and to follow one�s conscience. He knew that from experience.�
�He was a wise man.�
�He was just�well�Papa.�
*******************
Everyone who knew my parents is gone now, but that�s the way life is. One day you wake up and understand that there�s no one left to share the memories, so you just hold them closer.
Mother, Papa, Jarrod, Nick, Heath, Audra, Eugene. . .and my dear husband Teddy. . .I knew you and loved you, and a part of each of you is still a part of me.
And I still know who I am.
THE END