Lauraine Snelling (25 page)

“Thank-you for what?”

“For choosing us and Mor and the ranch over the booze.”

Lucas stood silently for a long moment. “Yep, our lives could have been so different.” He took the reins of both horses and led them off to the corral to let them go while Ransom slung the saddles on the racks their father had built in the barn.

Ransom stared up at the Milky Way arched across their ranch like a heavenly benediction. “You tell him for us, Jesus, will you please?” He slung his arm around his brother’s shoulders, and the two of them strode up the rise to the ranch house with the light waiting in the window.

D
id he actually say that, or was I dreaming?

Cassie stared up at the ceiling. Dawn was sneaking in, the room lit by the pearly pink of a near-to-rising sun. For the first time since the shooting, her head felt almost clear. She let her mind rove back.
“When we are married.”
Was that what he’d said? Or was it
“After we are married?”
Not that one word was so important, but why would Lucas even think something like that? Sure he was being attentive, with special smiles and little glances. Perhaps they were courting, but she’d never thought of it in that way, and they’d never even had any time alone together. Sure he was handsome. Any girl would be delighted with his attentions. Take that Betsy Hudson—she was desperately in love with him, and up to now had been confident that he returned her affection. And it sounded like he had.

So why the switch? She had pushed the thought away until now, but here in the quiet of the early morning, maybe she needed to think about it. The only answer she came up with was the ranch. If she married Lucas, the ranch would all be under the Engstrom name again. What a vile thought! Marrying her because he loved the ranch. Would he love the ranch more than her?

When she thought of marriage, she dreamed of having one like her mother and father’s. They had truly loved each other and loved being together. Which was a good thing, since they were together all the time. She’d seen other marriages that were not like that. Husband and wife screaming at each other, or ignoring each other or in some cases displaying physical violence. She remembered how her mother said she took one look at Adam Lockwood and knew that he was the man for her. She gave up a whole life in the upper crust of Norway to follow him into the world of Wild West shows. She said her heart went into triple time, and tingles ran up and down her spine when she was finally introduced to him, after begging her maid to make the meeting possible.

If that is what love starts out like, I’ve not felt any such things. Never in my life but especially not when I met Lucas, or sat next to him in church, or when he handed me in and out of the wagon.
He is very nice, but no sparks.
She enjoyed being with him, he made her laugh, and she appreciated all he had done for her, but friend or brother closer described her feelings for him.

Turn your mind to think about something else.
The heat of the fire flared into her mind. No, not that. All the things that were in the wagon were now gone. All the contacts with people who’d sponsored shooting matches and other Wild West shows. All the paperwork from the years of running the Wild West Show, her father’s journals of the finances. The bills of sale of all but the deed to the ranch. That she had folded and tucked away in the pages of her mother’s Bible, which was in the cabin by her bed. And the locket. Her mother’s and now gone again.

Trying to be thankful was not easy. Why had all this happened? She knew why. All because some people lived to hate other people. The fragrance of breakfast cooking wafted into her room. Her stomach rumbled and her arm ached. Especially if she moved. Could she manage to use the chamber pot by herself without calling for help? Using her good arm, she pushed herself upright and waited for her head to stop spinning. If she fell and smashed her arm against something, she would be in worse shape than she was at the moment.

A gentle knock at the door.

“I’m awake, come on in.”

Gretchen peeked around the door. “Good morning. I hope you slept well.”

“I did better. Could you ask your mother to come here, please?”

“Sure.” The head disappeared.

Cassie inched her legs over to the side of the bed, crabbing her rear so she was sitting on the edge with her feet dangling. She blew out a breath. She must still be terribly weak if that little effort made her head swim and her heart pound. Bracing with her good arm, she breathed slowly and deeply, feeling her body start to relax. She knew the value of relaxing.

“Good morning, Cassie. Hey, you sat up by yourself. Did it hurt bad?”

“Some, but I need to use the necessary.”

Mavis braced her and helped her stand again. “How’s the head?”

“Woozy.”

“Not surprising. That will pass. We need to get more food and drink into you to help your body rebuild. Gretchen will bring your breakfast. Do you think you can feed yourself?”

“Yes. I just have a hard time believing how weak I am. It isn’t like this is a major wound.”

“No. The blood loss is contributing to that. You have a guest waiting as soon as you’re tucked back in bed.”

“Micah?”

Mavis nodded. “And friend.”

Cassie smiled. “Othello? I’m sure he wouldn’t try bringing Wind Dancer in.”

“No, but that dog has been pacing.” Once Cassie finished her business, Mavis stacked the pillows behind her and settled her against them. “Maybe they’ll come eat with you too.” As she left the room, she said, “Go on in.”

Micah stopped in the doorway, but Othello bounded across the room and leaped up on the bed, wriggling all over. He sniffed her hair, her arm, and her hands, and cleaned her face.

“I know. I’ve missed you too.” She smiled up at her friend. “Thank you, Micah, you made this day perfect.”

“Today you are much better.”

“I am.” She wrapped her good arm around Othello and hugged him to her side. “I kept thinking he had been injured too.”

“I think he was knocked out for a time. He had a big bump on his head.” Micah sat down in the chair she pointed to. “I know they are taking good care of you.”

“I want to come back to the cabin.”

“Soon. They caught those men. Ransom and Lucas helped the sheriff and his men in town last night.”

“Beckwith’s men weren’t too smart to go back to town.”

“I think they needed supplies. Two of them have been injured. You shot one, Jud, and Ransom shot another trying to get back into his house.” He stood when Gretchen came in with a tray and helped her set it across Cassie’s legs.

Gretchen smiled at him. “There’s coffee for you too, Mr. Micah, and Mor said if you haven’t eaten breakfast yet to come out and join them.”

“Coffee will be fine.” He took a cup and sat back in the chair.

Gretchen took her bowl and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey, Othello. You look mighty happy. Look, he’s smiling.”

Cassie reached over to pet her dog. “Good boy, but I’m sure you are not supposed to be on the bed.” His tail thumped on the quilt, and he licked Cassie’s hand.

“Aren’t you going to school today?”

“Today is Saturday. Mor says I should keep watch on you to make sure you’re all right.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine. The way I feel, I’ll probably be back to sleep as soon as I finish eating.” She spooned her oatmeal into her mouth and broke off a piece of toast to chew.

“You can take that up with her. If you like, when you’re awake again, I could bring the checkerboard in here, and we could play a few games.”

“I’ve not played checkers for years. That would be great.” Cassie laid her spoon back down, suddenly too weak to hold it.

Micah came to her side. “Do you need help?”

“I need to lie down again.” Even her voice sounded weak in her ears.

Gretchen removed the tray and set it on the chest of drawers. “I’ll take the pillows out.”

Between the three of them, with Othello whimpering his concern, Cassie slid back to a flat position. Sitting up she felt like she was tipping to the side. Lying flat made the world stop tipping. “Thank you.”

Micah picked up the tray and started for the door. “Othello.”

The dog tried to disappear into the bedding, not looking toward Micah, instead imploring Cassie with his eyes to let him stay. “Sorry, my friend, you go take care of Micah and the others. Go, Othello.”

He slunk off the bed, ears and tail down, and sending pitiful looks over his shoulder, he followed Micah out the door.

“Can I get you anything else?” Gretchen asked. “Water? Coffee? Anything?”

“No thanks. I’ll see you later.” Cassie quit fighting to keep her eyes open and let sleep claim her.

Later in the afternoon she muttered, “Now, this is getting disgusting,” for she was right in the middle of a checkers game with Gretchen and the same thing was happening again.

“King! Crown me.” Gretchen looked up at her. “Oh-oh.” She picked up the checkerboard and set it on the chest of drawers. “Here, let me help you. And just when I was winning too.”

“Later.”

How much later? She could not tell. She knew only that this was later and Gretchen was elsewhere. She managed to stand on her own two feet with no one holding her up. But crossing to the chair made her huff and puff.

Mavis stuck her head in the door, one of the many times she would look in, just checking. “Are you all right?”

“I thought maybe I could walk out to the kitchen for supper.”

“Not to worry. We’ll all bring ours in here and have a party.” Mavis smiled as she left.

And so they did, with plates on laps and drinks on any available surface. Cassie kept a watch on Lucas. Did she feel any differently about him? Not that she could discern. Ransom never caught her eye or smiled like Lucas did. One had to admit he had a winning smile.

Ransom drifted away after they finished eating, but Lucas told them all what had happened the night before. “Lansing said that Ransom shot so fast that Beckwith never had a chance. Good thing, or we might have lost a brother.”

“Don’t make it worse than it was,” Ransom called from the other room.

“If you don’t like the way I tell it, you get back in here and do it yourself.”

Gretchen looked to Cassie and giggled. She poked Lucas. “Keep going. What happened next?”

“Lansing wasn’t sure exactly, but the next thing he knew, Ransom had knocked Case down with the butt of his gun.”

“Better than shooting him again, I suppose. Maybe. He was trying to get into the house.”

This made Cassie chuckle too. She looked up to see Mavis grinning and shaking her head. How could something that could have been so bad be so funny? She thought a moment. “Can I ask about what happened the night before last? There’s a lot I don’t remember.”

Ransom returned and leaned against the doorjamb, contributing when the tale needed more. After they finished, Cassie lay back against her pillows. “I have a hard time understanding what would make men do such a stupid fool thing.”

Mavis leaned back in her rocking chair, which they’d brought in. “Greed, hatred, foolishness. I know Case seems mean clear through, but I have seen him carrying one of his children around on his shoulders and laughing with him. Now, someone who can do that can’t be all bad. Sometimes I wonder if losing his job at the stockyard didn’t contribute to his drinking; it’s the drinking that makes him mean. Some men, well, women too, can hold their liquor. Some get funny and then sleepy, some maudlin, and then there are the mean ones. They’re the dangerous kind, and Case seems to be just that.”

“Well, he won’t have to worry about getting mean drunk for a long time. They don’t serve booze in jail or at the state prison.”

“But what will Molly do to feed her children?” Mavis shook her head. “She hates taking charity, but there just aren’t many jobs for women in Argus.”

“Not for men either.” Sitting on the floor, Lucas bent one knee and wrapped his arms around it. “Short of roundup and harvest. If we could get that sawmill going, we might be able to hire someone on once in a while.”

Cassie listened to the conversation. The Wild West Show had hired a lot of people. She’d never thought of it that way before. Including Indians, which certainly didn’t happen a lot. One thing for certain, she had to get this arm well enough for the shooting match coming up on December fifth. The day that had seemed so far in the distance was now almost breathing down her neck, and she was too weak to move out of the way.

A big concern was where would the men sleep now? If folks in town heard that two men and two women, none of them married, were sharing a house, they’d have a field day with the gossip. Add the fact that two were Indian, and the gossips would make sure she and the others heard about it.

“Time to clean up. Tomorrow will be here soon enough. Cassie, let me check your bandaging before I go to bed. The rest of you, pick things up. Gretchen, you start the dishes and Lucas can dry. I sure will be glad when we have a milk cow again. How soon do you think Rosy will calve?”

“Maybe as early as next week. For sure by the end of the month.” Ransom picked up his mother’s rocking chair and carried it out.

“It’s cold enough now we can butcher those hogs,” Lucas called after him. “How about tomorrow?”

“Tuesday. We need to get things ready.”

Mavis rolled her eyes. “We need to do it, but what a chore.” She checked Cassie’s bandages and felt the skin around the wound. “No blood, no heat. I’ll make you some more of the echinacea tea. It helps fight against infection. I read the other day that honey on a wound would help it heal faster. I think we’ll do that when we change the bandage.”

Cassie licked her lips. “I have a big favor to ask.”