Linda Ford (10 page)

“Heard a mule train is on its way. You’ll have a meal ready for them?” he’d asked her.

“I will indeed.” As she prepared a meal large enough to feed the hungry mule drovers, she listened to the sound of sawing and hammering. If she’d known more about construction work she could have done this on her own. Of course, the children’s need for a safe home changed her need to do it herself.

A harsh truth gripped her thoughts.

It had changed many things.

She stared at the pot on the stove. Her chest tightened enough to make breathing difficult. The circumstances were changing her. Changing how she did business.

A few days ago she’d arrived here with her goals clearly formed. She would build a house, work and create a business on her own. She would ask no one for anything.

She knew no other way to ensure she would be independent.

Why had she allowed that to change? Not because of the children. She could take care of them fine on her own.

All she needed from Roper were instructions on how to build a house.

The food for a big meal was as ready as it could be until she heard the men cracking their whips as they reached town. She went outside, toward the shell of the house Roper was constructing. She watched every move. How he measured and cut. How he drove in the long spikes, making it look easy. He measured again from corner to corner.

“Why do you do that?” she asked, following him back and forth as he had Neil hold the tape at one corner and stretched to the opposite one.

“To make sure it’s square.” He wound the tape measure up, apparently satisfied.

She needed to know how this ensured him it was square and what he would do if it wasn’t but he trotted away for another board. She practically hung over his shoulder as he meticulously measured.

Slowly he straightened and faced her. “Did you want something in particular?”

She nodded. “I want to know what you’re doing.”

“Why?”

“I might need to know some time.”

He shook his head and turned back to the board. “Muddbottom, if you ever need something built, you give me a holler, hear?”

She jerked back, almost tripping over a lump of dirt. A myriad of horrible feelings raged through her at the memories accompanying the sound of that name. “Don’t ever call me that.” She could barely squeeze the words through her tight throat.

He looked into the distance, exhaled noisily then slowly faced her. “Why not? Isn’t it your name?”

She fought to push away the impact of that name. “It’s a vile name belonging to my grandfather.”

He set the pencil and tape measure on the board and edged closer. “Wouldn’t it also be your father’s name?”

“My father is dead and so is everything good associated with that name.”

He was only inches away, his look endless and searching.

She scowled at him. “How do you know about it?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “Read it in your Bible.”

“You have no right to snoop.” The births and deaths of her babies were also in the Bible. He’d seen them. Seen fit to mention it when all she wanted to do was forget.

She stuffed her fist to her mouth to keep from crying out a protest and ran.

The only place she could hope to be alone was in the trees and she clamored through the underbrush unmindful of thorns tearing at her skirt.

“Cassie, wait.”

There was nothing she wanted to hear from him. Nothing. He couldn’t take back the words that brought painful memories from the deep pit where she’d buried them hoping they would never be resurrected.

She didn’t stop running until she tripped over a root, and then she lay facedown in the leaves and needles, panting.

Her insides felt hollowed out, scraped cruelly by some sharp instrument. Her babies. Born two years apart. Perfectly formed. But neither of them had ever drawn a breath. They went from her warm sheltering womb to the cold lonely grave.

Oh, God, where were You then?

George hadn’t blamed her in words but she was never in doubt that he silently thought she’d done something wrong.

But no more so than did she.

Oh, God, am I not to be allowed anything? Must I stand alone?

She knew the answer.
Yes.
Whatever she wanted or needed in life she must provide it herself.

No point in trusting God or a man to do for her what she could do for herself.

She scrambled to her feet, brushed the debris from her clothes, swiped at her face and smoothed her hair. No doubt she looked a wreck but that was immaterial. She had a business to run and hiding in the trees, feeling sorry for herself would not lead to success.

She tramped back through the trees.

“Cassie?”

She practically bolted out of her shoes and stared at Roper half hidden in the shadows, sitting on a tree stump waiting.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she lied. She didn’t know if she would ever be okay.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m fine.” She didn’t want to talk about her babies. Didn’t want to ever mention them. The only way to deal with the pain was to push it so deep it would never surface.

And she’d done so successfully. Except for times like this when someone encroached into forbidden territory.

“I know you’re not fine and I blame myself.”

“Forget it.”

“I don’t think I can. I don’t think you can. I seem to have an unfortunate knack for mentioning things that bring you pain.”

She gave him a good hard stare, daring him to poke his nose any further into her business.

“I guess you don’t much care for your grandfather.”

She snorted. He had no idea. Suddenly she realized they weren’t talking about the babies but about her grandfather. Her breath wheezed from tense lungs.

“I’m sorry about your losses.” He spoke cautiously.

He did well to be guarded. She closed her eyes as a wave of pain clutched her insides.

“Never mind.” She couldn’t bear to say anything more.

“If you ever want to have a good cry I have two shoulders you’re welcome to use.” He grinned somewhat crookedly.

“I’ve done all the crying I intend. Now if I’m not mistaken, there is a house to build and food to serve.” She stomped on. Let him follow or sit like a bump on a log. Made no difference to her.

But she tipped her head a little and relaxed marginally as she heard him clumping after her. Unbidden a picture came to her imagination of her resting her head in the hollow of his shoulder and crying out her pain and sorrow and confusion as he rubbed her back and made soothing noises.

She shook her head. She needed no comforting. All she wanted...needed was to get on with her plans.

Chapter Eight

A
short time later, Cassie welcomed the sound of the mule train. One thing Grandfather had been right about. Work didn’t allow time for self-pity.

The children stood beside her as the drovers pulled up to the store yelling and cursing at their animals.

Daisy covered Pansy’s ears and gave her brothers a warning look. “If I ever hear you say those words I’ll wash your mouth out with soap. Mama would want me to.”

“You listen to your sister,” Roper said. “A man doesn’t need to talk like that to accomplish his work.”

Cassie felt him behind her but didn’t turn. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t even think about him without being reminded of painful things. Instead, she counted the men. “Six?”

“I’m guessing they’ll eat more like a dozen.”

“I’m prepared for it.”

As the men unloaded supplies for Macpherson she rushed to get the meal ready to serve.

Daisy followed, shepherding her brothers ahead of her. “There’s no need to stand around listening to that sort of talk.”

Roper, as usual, hovered. “I’ll give you a hand.”

Cassie closed her eyes. Must they go through this again? She noticed Neil straining toward the activity at the store and it gave her an idea. “Why don’t you take the younger children some place until the men have eaten?”

“Oh, yes, please,” Daisy said, and handed Pansy to him. The little girl went eagerly, and Roper grinned.

“Glad to. Come on, boys. Let’s go exploring.”

* * *

Roper broke into a rough trot, bouncing Pansy until she giggled. The boys pushed at each other as they followed him down the hill.

He welcomed a chance to get away from Cassie’s angry looks. He hadn’t meant to upset her. But everything he did, every word he spoke brought forth her ire rather than her approval.

Playing with the kids would be a welcome relief from the sting of his failure.

“Where are we going?” Neil asked, falling in step on one side of him.

Billy trotted at his other side. Roper shortened his strides so the boy didn’t have to work so hard to keep up.

“I bet there’s treasure around here,” Billy said. “Didn’t Pa say he might find gold? Roper, where can we find gold?”

Roper chuckled at the boy’s intensity. “What would you do if you found some?”

Billy picked up a handful of rocks. “I’d buy us a home.”

The words fell into the air like hailstones, forceful, bruising.

Roper pulled Billy close. “I promise you will have a home.” He had to believe going to a relative was the best thing for them.

Neil moved closer. “Daisy said you’re an orphan like us.”

“That’s right.” The boys considered him, as if checking to see if being an orphan had branded him.

He chuckled and playfully knuckled Neil on the arm. “It isn’t the worst thing in the world, you know.”

“What’s worse?” Billy asked, his voice so mournful Roper’s smile disappeared instantly.

“I can think of a few things. Being in a home where people are cruel. Not having anything to eat or a safe place to sleep.” Losing two babies. He shook his head. He had to stop wanting to salve Cassie’s pain. She didn’t welcome it in the least.

Billy’s breath released in a long sigh. “We sure ’nough have lots to eat. Cassie’s a good cook. Don’t you think so?”

“I surely do. I expect she’s good at whatever she does.”

Neil laughed. “Except putting up a tent.”

Roper laughed, too. “Or building a house.”

“Or digging a cellar.” Neil laughed so hard he had to sit on the log beside Roper.

Billy didn’t even smile. “You guys are mean laughing at her.”

Roper sobered. “Ah, Billy. We aren’t being mean. Just having fun.”

Neil jumped to his feet and faced them. “We wouldn’t be mean to Cassie. We like her, don’t we, Roper?”

Roper could honestly say he did. More than was wise, considering her reaction to him.

“Why don’t you tell her?” Billy asked.

The boys waited for his answer. Pansy played with his collar.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

Neil plopped down on the log again. “I guess if you say being an orphan is okay, I’ll believe you.”

“You’ll be fine. All of you.” A person couldn’t change the facts but he could enjoy the good things of life. “Let’s go look for treasure.”

The pair dashed off, pausing to examine shiny rocks then running on.

A little later Roper lifted his head and tipped his ear toward Edendale. “Listen, I think I hear the wagons leaving. We better go back and help Cassie and Daisy. They’ll need water and wood.” It took concentrated effort to keep from jogging back to the camp.

Home.

Cassie.

Don’t put down roots. Don’t expect you can have family. Never stay where you’re not wanted.
She clearly didn’t want him. But he could not drive the traitorous word
home
from his mind. The best he could do was ignore it.

He crested the hill, and drew to a halt. She stood at the end of the table, smiling widely. His lungs drew in air with a whoosh and he realized he’d been worried about her alone with rough men. Her and Daisy. To see the pleasure in her expression eased his concerns.

She glanced up. When her smile didn’t falter, his worry disappeared. She’d forgiven him for his earlier comments. Or forgotten about them, at least.

“You look pleased.”

She nodded. “I am. The men each paid double what I asked.” She shook the can. “I can hardly believe how well things are going. Every penny earned is a penny more I can pay Macpherson toward what I owe him.”

“That’s good.”

“I don’t like owing anyone.”

“I kind of figured that out.” He was glad to see her good humor returned. Too bad it couldn’t be because of something he’d done. Perhaps he should start a list of things that upset her, topics he must avoid. Talk of her babies, which he could sympathize with. Use of her name, Muddbottom. That had something to do with her grandfather. Offers to help. He stopped because he couldn’t avoid that. He’d never stop trying to help her.

He’d simply have to find more subtle ways of doing it.

He grabbed up two empty buckets and trotted to the river. When he returned he filled the kettle and the basins and the pots she used for washing up dishes. He made certain there was plenty of wood, then returned to the construction of the house, measuring, sawing and hammering at a steady pace, Neil assisting him.

Hoofbeats signaled the approach of riders. He straightened to consider the visitors.

“Who are they?” Neil asked.

Roper tossed aside the hammer and headed for the trio. “Cowboys from Eden Valley Ranch.”

Slim, a thin man who lived up to his name. Roper had found him to be quiet and helpful. Ward, solidly built with a ready smile and a quick sense of humor. He often tread where angels feared. And red-haired Blue—shy but thoughtful.

The trio swung down from their mounts.

Cassie put aside the paring knife and the potato she’d been peeling and hurried forward. “Welcome.”

Ward pushed back his hat and looked about. “So this is what the pair of you are up to. Kids, a house...looks like a real home shaping up here.”

Roper watched Cassie’s shoulders stiffen and tried to signal Ward to stop his comments but Ward’s attention had shifted to the children. “Hey, kids, these people treating you all right?”

Daisy and Neil had formed a flank with Pansy in Daisy’s arms and Billy firmly between them. Daisy studied Ward then nodded. “They’re good to us.”

Neil added, “We help.”

Slim held a package toward Cassie. “Cookie insisted we bring you cinnamon buns.”

Roper chuckled as the children lost all wariness.

Cassie laughed, too. “Thank Cookie and tell her we truly appreciate them.”

“I’ll do that,” Slim said. “But I’m to tell you she wants to know when you plan to visit.”

“I’d love to.” Cassie glanced about, her expression going from relaxed to stubborn. “Tell her I’m pretty busy now.”

As Ward talked to the children and Slim talked to Cassie, Blue followed Roper to the construction site.

“This will be Cassie’s home and give her a place to serve meals indoors in poor weather,” Roper explained.

“She’s really intent on this, isn’t she?”

“Yes, I am,” Cassie said as she hurried toward them. “Macpherson says I’ll do well.”

“Looks like you could use a hand.” Blue waved to the others. “Come on, boys, let’s help Roper with this floor.”

Cassie sputtered a protest but no one but Roper seemed to hear.

The cowboys clattered to where Roper had several beams measured and cut. In a few minutes they had them in place and the spikes driven to secure them.

Roper saw Cassie’s expression darken, and knew she resented their help. But she couldn’t make herself heard above the hammering. She turned and stomped away. Out here people helped people. He vowed to speak to her about it before she offended someone.

A little later the three cowboys left.

This was his chance. “Cassie, you can’t refuse every offer of neighborly help without offending someone.”

“I don’t want to be owing.”

He’d expected her reply but still it clawed at his thoughts. He pushed to his feet. “Cassie, when will you learn not everyone demands repayment for kindness?” He strode away not wanting to hear her answer, sure it would be the same as always.

* * *

It had been a long and challenging day and Cassie couldn’t wait for the forgetfulness of sleep.

Her emotions had been up and down all day. Up when the drovers paid her so well, up when the cowboys brought greetings from the ranch. Down when Roper scolded her for trying to turn away help from the cowboys.

A suspicion burst into her thoughts. Maybe he resented his part of their agreement, resented the amount of work he had to do. It wasn’t as if she did anything in return. Their agreement had been for her to look after the children but she would do that, anyway, so it really didn’t count. She must tell him he wasn’t obligated to stay.

She could manage on her own. She wouldn’t be lonely.

Especially for someone who had the bad taste to remind her of her babies.

Cassie tried to push the memories from her mind, tried to fall asleep so she could forget but every time she closed her eyes she saw her babies. Each wore a white dress as they were laid out in a satin-lined box. She stared into the dark, tried to focus on the sound of a fly buzzing against the canvas. The noise echoed in her head, annoying her.

It was too hot to sleep.

She pushed from her mat, pulled her dress over her head and stepped outside to the murmur of night noises. She filled her lungs until they ached. Still the unsettled feeling of loss and loneliness would not depart.

“Cassie?”

She jerked toward the sound. “Roper?”

He climbed up the riverbank and came to her side. “Yes. Can’t you sleep?”

“Too hot.” He didn’t need to know the real reason even though he was to blame. But at the moment, she lacked the energy to confront him.

“I have something to show you.”

“What?”

“Come and see.” He signaled for her to follow him back down the bank.

She hesitated. But anything was better than staring into the darkness of her past.

He fell in at her side, took her hand. “It’s hard to see.”

She started to pull away and stumbled. Only his grasp kept her from falling so she let him guide her down the bank toward the river.

“Over here. Sit down.” His blanket had been spread against the sloping bank.

She sat. He lowered himself beside her, crowding close as they shared the blanket. He lounged back as if in a chair. “Look up.”

She did, seeing a beautiful clear night with the sky full of bright stars. Her breath eased out of her strangled lungs.

Cool air came from the river. She sank back to enjoy the sky. The blanket smelled faintly of horse reminding her of the life Roper normally lived. “Don’t you miss being out on the range, riding and roping?”

“Can ride my horse any time I want. Mostly I’m content being here. Building your house. Helping care for the youngsters.”

He truly sounded as if nothing else mattered. She tried to convince herself it didn’t make her feel a tiny bit special. Now was the time to inform him he didn’t need to stay.

But before she could say anything a star flashed across the sky and flared into a sudden death. “Oh. A falling star.”

“Yup. Seen six already. I guess it’s a meteorite shower.”

“Another.” She pointed and adjusted herself more comfortably on the narrow blanket which meant she edged closer to Roper, felt the warmth of his arm against hers.

Then the sky was still. She waited, afraid to take her eyes from the sparkling canvas lest she miss a falling star.

One crossed the sky and before she could comment another. “Two,” she murmured. “They come and go so quickly. They die almost as soon as they’re born.” The meaning of the words flared through her heart, searing a white-hot trail. Her throat tightened and a scalding tear escaped each eye. She wiped them away. She did not intend to cry over deaths that came too soon and sudden.

But a torrent threatened.

Another star blazed across the sky and burned out.

It happened so fast. Ended so quickly.

A sob ached from her throat. The tears scorched down her cheeks. She stiffened, determined to hide this embarrassing display of weakness.

Roper shifted to study her.

She prayed he couldn’t see her tears or her twisted face in the darkness.

“Cassie, are you okay?”

She couldn’t answer except for a muffled sound that even to her ears seemed more sob than denial.

He edged his arm under her neck and pulled her to his side. “I told you my shoulders are available anytime.”

Heaven help her but she couldn’t deny herself this bit of comfort, and she buried her face in the fabric of his shirt and let the tears flow. Once started she could not stop them. They tore from some secret place deep inside, a well of hidden, denied, bottomless sorrow. She clutched his shirtfront and hung on for dear life.

He made murmuring noises as he cradled her gently. It didn’t matter that his sounds and words made no sense. They conveyed such a feeling of compassion and care that it made her cry harder.