Free Outcasts of River Falls by Jacqueline Guest

make it to Hopeful in no time.”
    Of this, Kathryn had no doubt.
    Nellie was already hitched up and Aunt Belle was closing a narrow storage box fitted behind the passenger bench. “That’s the dresses all packed away. You ready to go?”
    Her aunt had taken the precaution of fastening a long leather belt complete with buckle across the seat which she said would hold them in should they hit a hole or rock. Once they set off, Kathryn was very glad for the safety strap.
    The ride was wild! They flew down the road, the horse forgetting it was ready for the glue factory, and instead, speeding the small carriage at amazing velocity through the countryside.
    Several times, they came upon other horses, buggies or wagons, which quickly pulled out of the way when they saw who was barrelling down on them at that lightning pace. Her aunt would wave and call greetings that were swept away on the wind as they sped past.
    It was outrageous behaviour; completely unladylike...and Kathryn loved it!
    When they arrived at the Mounted Police detachment, in an impossibly short span of time, Kathryn was breathless, her hair hanging down from its pins and her clothing in disarray.
    “She’s something, isn’t she?” Aunt Belle’s face glowed.
    Kathryn was unwilling to admit how exhilarating the ride had been.
    “Someday there will be laws governing the speed at which you can travel down a public road, Aunt Belle, and you shall have to reign in your penchant for foolhardy driving.” Kathryn was the tiniest bit disturbed at how much her words sounded like they’d come straight from Sister Bernadette’s reproving repertoire.
    “Well, until they do, we’re in for some high times, Katydid!”
    Unfastening the safety belt that had held them secure in the careening buggy, her aunt jumped down, then retrieved the dresses from the seat box and took them into the log building marked simply ‘n.w.m.p.’.
    Giving her surroundings a critical and judgmental eye, Kathryn decided Hopeful wasn’t exactly a bustling metropolis. Perhaps a better moniker for this backwater whistle-stop would have been Hopeless, considering the packed dirt streets and hitching posts she saw. And from the ample evidence left on the dusty thoroughfare, she could see the hitching posts were a necessity.
    On the other hand, it did seem to be quite a mercantile centre if the number of stores lining both sides of the street was any indication. As she watched, a man in a dingy brown uniform crossed the road and came in her direction. Kathryn’s pulse sped up. He was tough and rank, mean and nasty and very familiar. She held her breath. It was Constable Blake.
    As he passed, she noticed again the mutilated stub of an ear on the side of his head. Kokum’s words came back to her. This man had shot Gabriel Ducharme down in cold blood. In Toronto, that would make him a murderer; here he was a respected member of the North West Mounted Police. In the dark, Kathryn had not noticed his shabby uniform, nor how in need of repair it was. One of the brass buttons was missing and the left pocket had torn, then been badly stitched together.
    Wanting to avoid any further contact, she studiously inspected her fingernails, noting the need for a manicure. Blake continued past her and into the detachment office.
    Studying the street, Kathryn noticed as another man, young and tall, strode down the wooden boardwalk swaggering a little, which added an air of confidence. He was dressed rather smartly in a checked shirt and gabardine trousers. There was something about him that was undeniably attractive and, best of all, he was coming straight toward her!
    Mindful of the frantic ride, Kathryn hastily pinned her hair back into a semblance of tidiness and straightened her clothes. As they were going to the Carter Academy, she’d chosen her attire with care. She wore a tailored black bombazine skirt with a fitted blouse in a lovely sage green. The blouse had a stiff collar with a lace insert circling