The mail had contained not only Michael’s newspaper, but a letter for Cait from Henry. Her mother had handed it to her, noticing only the surname and the postmark and said, “Here is a letter from Susan Beecham, Cait.” Neither her mother nor her father noticed her quick blush when she saw Henry’s initial.
He was arriving in three weeks and would stay ten days on his way to visit a classmate in California. “I can’t wait to meet your parents, my dear,” he wrote, “and get their permission to make our engagement official. We can travel back together, just as we planned.”
She should be ecstatic, she thought, as she reread the letter. She couldn’t wait to see him, that was true. But his imminent arrival meant she had to tell her parents her plans. They assumed she was home for good. That she would be looking for a position teaching school in the county, and eventually marry someone from the valley. She had to tell them soon. Tonight.
She went out for a long ride with the letter tucked inside her blouse. She picnicked in the little canyon east of the ranch and reread the letter several times and daydreamed of Henry. He was very handsome with his brown hair and brown eyes and patrician nose. On her first visit to the Beechams he had overwhelmed her with his brilliant conversation that ranged from politics to literature. At first, she had only listened shyly. Then, with his encouragement, she’d ventured her own opinions. He had listened to them, supported her in them, for he was nothing if not forward-thinking about the position of women. And then one night as he and Susan and Cait had strolled the rolling lawn together after dinner, Susan had excused herself. And Henry had slipped his arm through Cait’s and continued their walk down to the small lake at the foot of the hill.
They watched the moon make a bright path across the water and then Henry had turned to her and putting his finger under her chin, tilted her face for his kiss. It was a gentle, tender kiss and Cait felt her mouth open naturally to it. But Henry pulled away and stroked her cheek with his finger.
“I do think that I am falling in love with you, Caitlin Burke,” he said with a winsome smile.
Caitlin was thrilled. Susan’s handsome, brilliant, sophisticated brother was in love with her, ‘Calico Cait,’ as the girls at school had called her.
“You don’t have to say anything, Cait,” he added, amused rather than taken aback by her silence. “It is too soon for you, I know. But I can be patient.”
“It is only that…I don’t know what to say,” she stammered.
He kissed her again, on the cheek this time, and taking her arm in his, walked her back up to the house. “I told Susan to give us ten minutes. We don’t want to be creating a scandal,” he teased, his eyes laughing down at her.
Of course she fell in love with him. How could she not? She could talk to him about all that she was learning and about her new dreams for the future. “I want to teach young women, Henry,” she said. “I want to stretch their minds the way Mrs. Weld has stretched mine.”
“That is one of the things I love about you, Cait. Your idealism. And when we marry, you can continue to teach for a while.”
“If we marry, Henry,” she said tartly. “Why, you haven’t even asked me.”
But of course, she knew he would. And he did, a few months later, on her Christmas visit. She’d said yes, but only to an unofficial engagement, for she had to tell her parents in person.
Now here she was, home a week, and had told them nothing!
* * * *
“Cait, could you slice the corn bread and put it on the table?”
“Yes, Ma.”
“And go call your father.”
Caitlin went halfway to the stable and called out: “Da, dinner’s ready.”
Michael was just coming out of the barn and he walked up to her and putting his arm around her shoulders, said, “ ‘Tis good to be hearin’ you shout for me, Cait. Just like ye used to do.”
“Elizabeth, I’ve said this before….”
“Only a million times, Da.”
“You cook a good meal for a hardworking man. And don’t ye be gettin’ disrespectful to your Da, young lady!”
Caitlin grinned at him. “There is dried apple cobbler for dessert, Da.”
“And I’ll have a large slice, Cait. With cream.”
Elizabeth poured the coffees and a contented silence fell on the table as they ate dessert.
“Da, Ma,” said Cait, after they’d all finished. “I have something to tell you.”
“What is it, Cait?” Elizabeth asked curiously.
“The letter I got yesterday. It wasn’t from Susan Beecham. It was from Henry, her brother. I have mentioned him in my letters, you know. I told you I’d met him last summer,” she added almost defensively.
“Why, yes, you did. He was studying to be a lawyer, I think you told us,” said Elizabeth.
“Actually, he has finished his degree and will be clerking for a judge this coming year. We got to know each other quite well, you know, between summer and Christmas and his visits to the school. To see Susan.”
Elizabeth, who had gotten up to clear the table, stopped and Michael looked across at his daughter. “So, ye got to know this young man well, Cait?”
“Yes, Da. Mmm, actually, he has asked me to marry him.”
Elizabeth sat down next to Michael who reached under the table to take her hand in his. “Em, he did, did he?”
“But of course, I told him I could not agree to an official engagement until I talked to you and Ma. And until you’d met him.”
“Of course,” said Michael softly.
“He is on his way to California to visit a classmate and will be stopping here for a week,” she said in a rush. “I know you will like him, Da.”
“The important thing,” said Elizabeth, keeping her voice calm, “is whether you like him. Love him. You didn’t say that much about him in your letters, you know. Nothing that would have given us a hint….”
“I do love him,” Cait said earnestly. “He didn’t ask me to marry him until Christmas. And I didn’t want to write you about him, I wanted to tell you in person.”
“Em, this Henry Beecham, is he plannin’ to practice law out here, Cait? After he finishes working for this judge?”
“No, Da. We would live in Philadelphia. I have been offered a position as a teacher at the school. It is what I’ve always wanted,” she added, her eyes smiling.
“I thought what you always wanted was to teach in a county school, Cait,” said her mother.
“I meant I’ve always wanted to become a teacher, Ma. Now that I’ve been East, I know I want to work at a school like Fayreweather. Where I can teach literature, not just the ABC’s.”
“Children need teachers to learn their ABC’s as much as for literature, Cait,” said Elizabeth quietly. “You had all spring to write us about this. To prepare us.”
“I know, Ma, but I just didn’t know how to tell you. I know you and Da expected me home to stay. When I first went away, that’s what I expected, too….”
“But this is your home, Cait,” continued Elizabeth in a strained voice.
“Now, Elizabeth,” said Michael. He squeezed his wife’s hand under the table, both to comfort her and to warn her, “Things change. Young women fall in love and move away from their families.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Your father is right, Cait. It is just…hard to think about you so far away.”
“I knew it would be hard for you, Ma. That’s why I kept putting off telling you,” Cait admitted, her voice trembling.
“We would never want you keepin’ anything from us to protect us, Cait,” said her father. “We love you too well for that.”
“Thank you, Da,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Now then, when is this Mr. Henry Beecham arrivin’?”
“In three weeks, Da. He’ll stay for a week and then continue on to California.” She hesitated. “If all goes well, then I’ll return East with him at the end of the summer. If you and Ma agree, we’ll marry at Christmas.”
* * * *
“Oh, Michael, I don’t think I can bear it,” said Elizabeth that night after Cait had gone to bed.
“I know, a ghra. But we must. At least, if this Beecham fellow is worthy of our Cait. If he’s not….”
“If he’s not, Michael?”
“I’ll kick him off the ranch!”
“Not if Caitlin loves him.”
Michael sighed. “Maybe not. But she wouldn’t be goin’ back East with him at the end of the summer, I can tell you that!”
“It’s just too soon. Why she just got home, I haven’t seen her for two years and here she is, all set to leave again. And not just us, everything she knows.”
“We sent her to that school because she had a good mind, Elizabeth.”
“Because I inherited that little bit of money from my grandfather,” said Elizabeth bitterly, “and because she wanted to be a teacher. You were too easy on her, Michael. She should have told us sooner.”
“I know, a ghra. But ‘tis too late to be spoiling our short time with her now. I didn’t want ye to be driving her away from us.”
“Oh, Michael, I know you are right. But it is too much. First Mackie and Chavez and now this.”
Michael gave her a wry smile. “This Henry Beecham will be coming in the middle of a stirred-up hornet’s nest.”