Lauraine Snelling (26 page)

“What’s that?”

“Is there any chance I could have a bath, a real bath? I saw you have a tub.”

“That we do. But I think we should wait a day or two. You’re still weak. We need to keep that wound dry, but I can help you wash around it. Do you want your hair washed too?”

“Oh, it would feel so heavenly. That was one thing my mother insisted on—a copper bathtub that she could sink down into. It had a high back to lean against. My father teased her about her traveling bathtub.”

Mavis laid the back of her hand on Cassie’s forehead. “You’re not feverish at all. Thank the good Lord for that.”

Cassie nodded, screwed up her courage, and asked, “I have another question.”

“And?”

“Now that the wagon is burned up, where will Chief and Micah sleep?”

“I suggested before that they move into the bunkhouse, but after this attack they don’t want to leave the two of you women up there alone.”

“Surely women have lived alone out here before.”

“Oh, I’m sure they have, but . . .” She heaved a sigh. “We’ll have to think on this and pray about it. Just adding on another room wouldn’t solve the situation either. Unless you and Runs Like a Deer moved down to the bunkhouse and the men stayed up there.” She patted Cassie’s good shoulder. “You just get some rest. God has a plan here, and we just have to wait for him to show us.”

Cassie swallowed a humph. It looked to her like God hadn’t been listening too well lately. And if all this was a sign of His protection, something had sure messed that up. Right now she was having a real hard time believing that she could trust God with much of anything.

Of course, this all could have been a whole lot worse.
There was that voice inside her head again. She thought for a while that perhaps the holes in her arm had silenced it. She was fairly certain that was what Mavis would say. And most likely her mother would have agreed. But right now . . . Right now the pain was catching up with her again, and her mind was muddling.

S
o, ask her.

I can’t ask her.

Why not?
The voices in her head argued back and forth. She’d dreamed about being married to Lucas and woke more sure than ever that they would not be suited. She was not attracted to him, let alone in love with him. The kind of love she felt was more gratitude and friendship. Not the romantic kind at all.

But perhaps you are worrying unnecessarily. He’s not said a word to you. At least not made a proposal.

Be that as it may, the thought of that kind of conversation made her hurt. No one liked having a dream crushed. Her father never got to fulfill his dream, and now that she was here, her living it was iffy.
If
, that big word. She needed to take care of her sort-of family, and she’d counted on the shooting match to help them make it through the winter. And possibly participating in others, if she could figure out a way.

These early morning stewing sessions were getting old and getting her nowhere.

All she had to do was get back on her feet and start using that arm—the arm that right now was still securely wrapped to her chest. Wiggling her fingers no longer sent screaming pain up her arm, but it still hurt.

All.
Another big three-letter word. Mavis had said to pray about the housing situation. If God had sent the fire or simply let the incident happen, how could she trust Him to take care of this part? Was it His fault she had a shot-up arm? No. That was the fault of those three men out on a spree. But if God was indeed all powerful, as both Mavis and her mother always said, He could have kept that from happening.

That was the clincher. He could have, but He didn’t.

But it could have been a lot worse. True. So was that thanks to God and His provision or . . . ?

Or what?

“Cassie, are you ready for breakfast?”

“As soon as I’ve, uh, been up. Perhaps I can manage myself, but I’d feel better if you were here to keep me from falling.”

“I’ll be right in.”

Cassie moved her feet to the edge of the bed and levered herself to a sitting position with her good arm. She was moving better, so the weakness seemed to be fading. She inched forward to let her feet over the edge and finally to sit with her feet on the floor. She looked up when the door opened and Mavis entered the room.

“You look a lot better today. Better color. Rosier.”

“I feel better. We’ll see how long that lasts.” With Mavis standing in front of her, Cassie tried to stand, and then reached for a hand. “Just to balance.” She made it, standing on her own. She heaved out a breath and nodded. Together they accomplished what was needed, and she sat back down on the bed.

“How about hot water to wash your hands and face?”

“Please.” She was glad she couldn’t see in a mirror. Her braid looked ratty enough on her chest. And clapping her hat on her head was not appropriate, not that she had it there. Like all her other things, the hat was still up in the cabin.

“I’ll brush and braid your hair after your bath. Helping you sit in that tub is going to be a challenge. Maybe we should wait another day?”

“Whatever you think best. How come I feel so much stronger until I try to do something?”

Mavis smiled at her. “That will go away too. It is hard to take it easy when you start to feel lots better.”

“Better and lots don’t fit well together yet. Is Gretchen already gone to school? I thought I heard her moving around.”

“Yes, and the boys are getting the hog-butchering supplies together for tomorrow. I’ll bring my coffee in here, and we can talk while you eat your breakfast. Then I’m sure you’ll be ready for a nap again. After that we could do the bath, if you feel up to it.”

By dinnertime, they’d accomplished the bath and let Cassie sleep again, and Mavis had fried pieces of bread dough to go with the elk roast she’d put in the oven earlier. She brought some in to Cassie as part of her meal.

Cassie held up a piece of golden fried what?

Mavis smiled. “We dip it in the gravy or honey or syrup, depending on the time of day. It can be dessert too. I used to have that for the boys as a treat when they came home from school.”

Cassie dipped it in the gravy, took a bite, and dipped it again. “This is really good.”

“It’s amazing the things you can do with bread dough. I’ve heard that some Indian tribes call it fry bread when patted out like a pancake and fried on each side. The bread will be out of the oven in a while, the regular loaves.”

“Someday I will learn how to make bread.”
Someday.

The next day she joined the family at the table for dinner, with Mavis walking beside her. They’d started the butchering right after first light and had four hogs scalded, scraped, and hanging in the barn. Sheaves of fat lay in the sink, and one of the hog heads was already simmering on the stove for headcheese. The allspice, cloves, and other spices simmering with it filled the kitchen with appetizing smells.

“As soon as I grind some of that lard, I’ll get it into the oven to render. I have a crock down in the cellar just waiting for it.”

Cassie listened to the discussion as if looking into a pictograph of another life. Obviously butchering hogs was different from butchering elk. She had so much to learn, and they all took it for granted as part of their lives. She’d heard the saying “Living off the land.” To Runs Like a Deer it meant finding wild things to eat. The Engstroms did that too, but not wild things; here they raised much of it. To eat and to sell or trade.

Between mouthfuls, Lucas said, “I’ll take one of the hogs to the Hill City Hotel tomorrow, so I hope it’s plenty cold. I know Chamberlain is going to want some smoked too. Perhaps he can find someone there to do that. Anyway, I’ll tell him we can bring some more in when it’s smoked.”

“Is the elk done smoking?” Cassie asked, thinking of the last butchering day.

Mavis nodded. “Pretty much. We have the last batch in now. You could take some of the smoked elk to him. I’ll take some in to the Brandenburgs and some to Molly Beckwith. Did anyone ask JD if he wants some for the store?”

“Nope. I thought you did.” Lucas smiled at Cassie. He had a nice smile. But no sparks. He explained, “Some we sell, some we give away, and some we keep. That’s the way of life here.”

“Don’t other people go hunting too or raise animals?”

“Oh yes. Most everyone does.” Lucas waved a hand. “Every spring, Cal Haggard over in the next valley raises a flock of chickens. We have laying hens and butcher out the cocks when they reach fryer size. Or we swap, say, a side of bacon for chickens. When Mor has too many eggs, she takes them in to JD, and he applies the trade to our account there. When we have cows that are milking, she turns the extra cream into butter that can go to the store too.”

Cassie listened carefully. Thoughts were coming to her. “So no one has to have real money that way.”

“Right.”

“But what about those who have nothing to trade?”

“We try to help them out. So do other folks. The churches help. We all do what we can.”

Cassie thought to her life in the show. She’d never needed any cash because all her needs were taken care of. Was it like that for the cast and crew, the ones who were not related to the owner? And if so . . . Her mind refused to fit around the idea. Maybe Talbot hadn’t lit out with hidden money. Maybe there really wasn’t any to take care of all those people anymore. What had her father done to make it work? Now all his records were burned in the fire. There was no place she could go to ask questions. Other than to Jason Talbot. And she had no idea how to contact him.

But really what difference did it make? That life was over and done with. She glanced up to see Lucas watching her, his eyes gentle along with the smile he gave her. She tried to smile back, but her mouth didn’t want to.
Don’t encourage him.
Now, where did that come from?

After Lucas and Ransom went back outside, Mavis helped her back to bed. Somewhere during the time she was sitting in the chair, her knees had gone weak on her. “Have you seen Micah or Chief today?” she asked.

“Yes, they were helping with the butchering and were going to cut more firewood this afternoon. That’s why they didn’t stay for dinner.”

“Oh.”

Each day she grew stronger, and several days later Dr. Barnett showed up. Mavis brought him into Cassie’s room, where she’d just woken up from another nap. At least this was the first one of the day.

“Hello, young lady. I thought I’d better check on that arm. I see you’re in a regular sling now, not strapped down so tight.”

“She was threatening to rip it off if she couldn’t move it some.”

Dr. Barnett smiled at Cassie. “Good for you for toughing it out. I hear that every day you are stronger. That you did not get an infection is the best news of all. Let’s unwrap it and see how it looks.”

Cassie gritted her teeth at the pain when he moved her arm, even though he was very careful and gentle.

“How is it compared to earlier?”

“It hurts, but there’s no comparison.”

“Good.” With all the bandages off, he studied the stitches and the wounds they’d sealed. “Looks very good.” He turned to Mavis. “You could take the stitches out the day after tomorrow, I think. Then leave off the sling at night. And begin using that arm. It will be weak, so be patient with it. Those muscles in there were really ripped up. Flexing your fingers and making a fist will help the strengthening progress. But if you do too much, you could strain it and have to slow down again.”

“When will I be able to hold a rifle?”

“Hold it or shoot it?”

“I’m to be in a shooting match December fifth in Hill City.”

“And this is November twentieth?” He shook his head. “You could maybe start holding the rifle by then. Were you planning to use your revolvers too?”

“And the shotgun.”

His voice toughened. “Miss Lockwood, I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but you nearly got to chat with the angel of death. You lost a lot of blood, yes, but had the slug torn a major vessel, you would have bled to death. And it easily could have gone either way if infection set in.”

“But all that didn’t happen. And I need to be in that match.”

“I can tell you are a strong young woman, but this time your body is not going to do what your mind tells it to do. Torn muscles take time to rebuild. Have you ever had a broken bone?”

She shook her head. “I’ve gotten plenty bruised a few times when I fell off my horse but I’ve never broke anything.”

“Well, I’m just telling you what I know.” He turned to Mavis. “It might bleed a little when you pull the stitches out. Wrap it up again if it does.” He gathered up his things. “Just use some common sense, Miss Lockwood.”

“Do you have time for a cup of coffee?” Mavis asked.

“I’d like to, but I need to get right back. We have a baby thinking on coming any time.”

“How much do I owe you?” Cassie kept her voice controlled with effort. His news had hit like a mule kick.

“I’ll send you a bill.”

“All right.” She watched him leave the room with Mavis and sank back down on the side of the bed. Tears welled and made her nose run. What was she going to do now? She had no money to pay a doctor bill, let alone buy supplies at the store. JD had said he’d like to sponsor her with ammunition, but she doubted that included supplies like food and kerosene.