Lauraine Snelling - [Wild West Wind 01] (26 page)

“Thank you both.” Cassie nodded and turned to leave.

“Would you like me to go with you?” he asked.

Cassie paused and gave it some thought. “Maybe later, but right now we need to get out of town before there’s trouble.”

“They’re back?”

She nodded. “He brought his friends.”

“Go tell the sheriff,” Mrs. Brandenburg told her husband.

“No, please. We don’t want to cause trouble. We’ll just leave, and all will be well.”

“Do you know where your camp will be?”

“No, but when I know more, I’ll let you know. Thank you again.” She nodded to both of them and left with a small wave. Talk about the different kinds of people in a town. She’d seen that in their audiences through the years, but today it hit home harder than any other time. How could they live near a town that held such hatred?

She walked swiftly back to the field and mounted Wind Dancer, since Micah had him saddled for her. They were just finishing hitching up the team, and Runs Like a Deer drowned the campfire with water from the barrel.

“I can drive the wagon,” she said.

“Without hurting your leg?”

She nodded. “Easier for three to get the cattle.”

Cassie nodded her agreement and looked to the two men. They shrugged.

Since Micah’s horse was in the corral, he helped Runs Like a Deer up to the driver’s seat.

With far more ease than Cassie had supposed, they brought the animals out of the corrals, and she and Chief kept them moving while Micah saddled his horse and caught up. They took the back streets out of town and picked up the road to Hill City on the other side of town. They’d driven several miles when Chief indicated a road off to the right that led into some pine trees.

He led the way and the cattle followed, with George bringing up the rear. Someone had camped there before, as there was a fire pit in a small clearing. A creek bounded one side and a steep rocky bank the other. Micah climbed up to the wagon seat and backed the wagon into the spot by the fire pit.

By the time they’d finished setting up camp, long shadows were graying the trees. Cassie wandered out to where the cattle were grazing and made her way to George’s side. He lifted his head to stare at her and snorted gently. “You been enjoying the trip? This is about as close to the wild as you’re going to get.” He tipped his head to the side so she could reach his ear. “Sure glad no one bothered you when we were in town. That could have been bad.” If it could be said a buffalo can purr, George would have been doing just that.

He sighed and lowered his head so she could dig into his heavy coat and scratch the poll of his head, but his favorite place was his ears. “You’d lose your reputation as a big bad bull buffalo if people saw you like this. Sorry, I have no carrots for you.” When he dropped his head to graze again, she leaned against his shoulder.

“Here we are, so close to the valley and I have to wait. But the problem is, George, I’m scared. What if they run us off? What if . . .” She knew that what she was doing was worrying, but after all they’d been through . . . “Do you think that deed is still good?”

That was the big question. Back in the wagon, she lit a lamp and, getting her mother’s Bible out of her trunk, laid it open on the table and removed the deed from the envelope. She leaned closer to the light and read it again. Nothing had changed.

Nothing but the fact that she was now camped nearby rather than on a train to the next show. Something was gnawing at the edge of her mind. Did Chief know more about all this than he was letting on? She laid the envelope back on the Bible and meandered outside. The others were sitting around the campfire. Micah had dragged in a hunk of wood for Runs Like a Deer to sit on, and she was sewing another pair of rabbit skin mittens. Micah was carving on a long piece of wood, and Chief was telling a story.

She listened until he finished and then asked, “Chief, why do I feel there is something you aren’t telling me?” Cassie leaned against one of the wagon wheels when her knees didn’t want to hold her up.

He blinked. “But that is all of the story.” He stared at her. “You mean about valley.” He didn’t ask a question, just laid the comment out there flat and unadorned.

“Yes. Were you with my father when he bought the land?”

“No. But I was guide for Lockwood and Ivar when we found valley. They were looking for gold mine. There was one on side of the hill that someone had left. So they filed on it.”

“And found gold.”

He nodded. “Not a lot but enough to buy land.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She watched the shutter fall over his face, and he shrugged.

“Better this way. Thought you would find another letter in all those papers.”

“I’ve been through everything. I have the deed. If they are trespassing . . .”
Oh, Lord, I don’t want a legal fight over the land. But this is my father’s valley.
“You are sure this is the right valley?”

“I am sure.”

“So what do you think I should do?”

“Go see people who are there.”

Cassie nodded. Why did that sound so easy? And looked like a rugged mountain to climb?

T
oday is the day.

Cassie lay in her hammock, listening to birds in the trees behind the wagon start their morning chatter. A horse snorted. One of the cattle bellered. Chief or Micah was chopping wood for the blaze snapping in the fire ring. The fragrance of woodsmoke teased her nose. She raised her head to look over the edge of the hammock. Runs Like a Deer was lacing her moccasin on her good side. They’d covered the other foot with firmer leather, and she left it on.

Maybe they should check her leg to see if it was still tender. Perhaps there was a doctor in town, but then, what could he do but probably the same. When the other woman left the wagon, Cassie rolled herself out and dressed as quickly as possible. The cold made her hurry. She’d already pulled on her britches before deciding that since she was going to the ranch today, she should probably put on a clean shirt. She checked the trunk and the cupboards she had appropriated for herself. Not a clean shirt to be had. How could she go out there looking like a . . . a . . . The word escaped her.

Why was it that the thought of riding up to a strange place and announcing who she was made her want to throw up? She could wear one of her show shirts, but that would be too much.

She brushed and braided her hair before heading out to the fire, where she could smell coffee cooking. Not having a mirror made checking her face for cleanliness more than a bit difficult.

“Will you be ready soon?” Chief asked.

“After we eat.”

He nodded.

“Bread, eggs, venison,” Runs Like a Deer said, looking up from stirring the eggs in the frying pan. “Soon.”

Maybe she shouldn’t eat. What if it didn’t stay down?

“I’m going to heat water to wash some clothes.”

“Why? Pound them on the rocks in the creek.”

Cassie shook her head. How quickly could she get a shirt dry? If only she had flatirons in the wagon to iron one dry.

Bar E Ranch

Remind me to never agree to host a party again,” Ransom muttered.

Gretchen giggled. “You know this is the way it always is. Mor wants everything perfect for company.” She gave the chimney to the final lamp one last lick. The smell of kerosene made his nose burn as he filled the bases.

“Why do we need all these lamps anyway? We’re going to be out by the barn mostly.”

“I know. We do the lanterns next.”

“Where’s Lucas?”

“Down feeding the fire. The venison smells so good. People are going to be raving about it for a long time to come.”

“You two about done?” Mavis called from the kitchen.

“Just starting the lanterns.” Gretchen motioned for her big brother to help put the lamps back where they belonged and held the door for him to take the two largest ones.

“If other people are bringing food, which they always do, why is Mor cooking so much?”

Gretchen rolled her eyes. “You know she would die of embarrassment if there wasn’t enough food. Fill the lanterns and go ask her what else she wants done.”

When he stepped off the back porch where he and Gretchen were working, Lucas called from beside the smoking pit, “Let’s move the benches to the dancing area.”

“Be right there.” He headed for the barn, where they stored the benches on hooks on the walls. Anything was better than whatever his mother would find for him to do next.

Near as he could tell, everything was in place before the first wagon drove up. Since the plan was to eat supper before the dancing and serve dessert at the middle break, folks started arriving about four o’clock so they could be there to help lift the meat out of the pit. The spit was a contraption with a crank that Ivar had created to make it possible to turn half a steer or hog or, in this case, a deer.

Some of the men and older boys gathered around the cider press with the apples they had brought. As they turned the crank on top of the press, the juice poured out between the slats and into a tub with a spigot on one side. Others filled jugs at the spigot and another stood ready to refill the basket.

The women set their covered dishes on the long tables set up between the cider press and the pit and then checked with Mavis to see what else needed doing. The rustlers occupied the men’s conversations, while the women chatted about the ending of the gardens and the canning and plans for the quilting bees to start up again. Mavis made sure the coffeepot was hot.

“Go tell the men that they need to start the fire before it gets dark.”

When the Brandenburgs arrived, Mrs. Brandenburg set her things down. “Did you hear about our guests in town?”

Mavis noticed that Lucas, who had been passing behind them, stopped to listen. She turned from filling the coffeepot with fresh water. “No, what happened?”

“They were driving a fancy wagon, and the young woman came by our house with a letter from a minister friend of ours in Rapid City. Said her name was Cassie and she was, or rather is, a trick rider from a Wild West show. A sharpshooter too. She had three friends with her—an old Indian man, a young Indian woman, and a white man. Can you beat that?”

Lucas continued on his way, whistling a tune.

“So where are they now?”

“I don’t know. Camping somewhere, I guess. Beckwith and his cronies started giving them a real hard time, so she came by to say they were leaving. They’d been camped in the field by the church. She’s a real nice young woman. I hope they find the valley they are looking for and stay around here.”

“I heard she was wearing britches,” someone else said with a shake of her head.

Mavis didn’t say anything to that. She wore britches outside plenty of times. They were much better for riding and working in the garden. But a Wild West show.
I wonder what her last name is
. She banished the thoughts for later. Right now they had people to feed. “Could someone holler out to the men to come help carry the food down to the table?”

Campsite

Cassie hung one of her shirts on two long sticks above the fire. There were no flatirons in the wagon. She’d gone over every inch. Heaving a sigh, she wished she had started the stove in the wagon. Perhaps the shirt would dry faster there.

Chief rode back into camp. “Lots of wagons going to the ranch.”

“You suppose they’re having a party or something?”

He shrugged. “Go soon?”

“We can’t go if there are a lot of people there.”

Chief raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

“Well, we can’t. That’s all there is to it.” She removed her shirt from the sticks and flipped it over a rope line Micah had strung from the corner of the wagon to a tree. At least she’d have a clean shirt to wear tomorrow. Clean and dry.

Bar E Ranch

They had moved the butcher table out of the barn, and when they laid the roasted deer on top of it, a sigh went up from those around. Lucas had made his pa proud, Mavis heard someone say.

“Pastor, can you say the blessing?”

“I’d be glad to.” He waited a moment for silence. “Our Father in heaven, we thank you for this family who so graciously planned this celebration for us. Thank you for the bounty of our land that has provided much of our food tonight and for the hands that prepared it. Thank you, Lord, for all the many blessings you so freely bestow upon us all. For all these things we praise you and bless your holy name. Amen.”

“Get your plates, folks, and help yourselves.”

Lucas and Ransom cut the meat and placed slices and pieces on all the plates held out to them. They stripped it down to the bones and dropped those into a tub at their feet. Mavis would cook all the bones in the morning to can as soup stock. Ransom sneaked a bit of meat for Benny, who sat right at his feet waiting for something to drop.

“Good to see you, Ransom,” Lissa said with a smile as she held her plate out.

“Glad you could come. We usually plan things a bit farther ahead, but this is a good gathering anyway.”

“It is. I’m glad there will be dancing too. We just don’t seem to have many parties anymore.”

Dancing. Ransom groaned inside. Maybe he could slip away . . . but no, he knew his mother would have his hide if he did. Hosts were not allowed to leave their own party.

There was just a plateful of meat left over, which they set on the table along with the other food for those who wanted some later. After all, dancing made one hungry.

And thirsty, he decided as he refilled the crock with cider. He tossed some more wood on the bonfire, as the chill was settling in. The fiddles tuned up and the dancing began. He found himself standing next to Miss Lissa, and what could he do but ask her to dance.

“Thank you.” She smiled and he took her hand and led her out into the group of moving couples.

“Really good food,” she said. “The venison was a welcome treat.”

“You’ve not had any?”

“No. Pa can’t get out and hunt like he used to, and Aaron isn’t much of a shot. His eyes aren’t the best, you know.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll tell Lucas to bag you one.” He stumbled just a bit. “Sorry.”
Please don’t make me talk anymore
. If only he dared say that to her. He pretended he didn’t hear her next comment and swung her around on the edge of the dancers. When the music finished, he walked her to the benches, where some folks were sitting and visiting. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” She turned as Lucas tapped her on the shoulder and danced off with him.

Ransom watched them go. She’d have more fun with Lucas anyway. Ransom danced the next one with his mother, who had a faraway look in her eyes. “Something bothering you?”

She looked up at him, a smile changing her face. “Nothing, really. Thanks for all your hard work to make this happen so quickly.”

“You are welcome.” But he could tell something was on her mind. Maybe she would talk about it later, after everyone left.

He’d just refilled the cider crock again when Miss Lissa came up to him. “You know, Ransom, if you’d rather not dance, we could just talk. You know, like we used to before . . .”

Before they both grew up? “I’d like that.”

They moved over to the bonfire and sat down on one of the benches.

He studied the dancers, hoping she would take the lead.

“I hear you had your fence cut.”

“We did. The rustlers seemed to stay in the same area. All three ranches are this side of town. So strange that they took only a couple of head from each place.”