Place to Belong, a (13 page)

As they approached the aspen grove, two deer bounded out from the side and on up the hill.

“I knew I should have brought the rifle.”

“Not today, Lucas. Let them run free,” Mavis chided. “We don't want for meat.”

“Ah, but the Hill City Hotel does. I'll come up again later.”

Only a few leaves remained on the silvery aspens as the tree-seeking party cut across the middle of the grove to move up the mountain. Cassie saw areas where the deer had bedded down. Had she not learned from Chief, she'd not have known that bit of lore. How was he? She'd forgotten to ask Reverend Brandenburg if he could give her the name of the Indian agent or someone on the reservation. Perhaps they could ask when they went in to sign the papers at the lawyer's office.

“See that one?” Ransom pointed up the hill. A young pine tree stood alone, needles and branches weighted by snow.

“It's a shame we can't keep the snow on it,” Mavis said with a nod. “How beautiful.”

“The candles will make up for the snow.” Gretchen laid her cheek on her mother's back. “This will be the prettiest ever.”

A crack like the shot of a rifle had Cassie ducking and staring around. “Where did that come from?”

“That was a tree splitting in the cold,” Ransom said. “No one is shooting at us.”

“Besides,” Lucas added, “we allow no hunting on our land, and this is still part of the ranch.”

“No hunting?” Micah asked.

“Other than us,” Lucas reassured him. “You can hunt anytime you want.”

“Need to move the snares farther out. Not so many rabbits close-by anymore.” Runs Like a Deer slid off over Wind Dancer's rump. She plowed through the snow, Dog at her side, her deer-hide leggings, wrapped with thongs, keeping her drier than those with pants and boots. She walked around the tree, nodding as she went. “Beautiful.”

The others dismounted and followed her tracks, all inspecting the tree. Lucas untied the saw from his saddlebag while Micah kicked the snow away enough to reach under the tree. After shaking the snow off, the two men dug their way under and started sawing.

Mavis studied a couple of pine trees farther up the hill. “We could take down some of the limbs for decorating the house.” She looked to Ransom. “Isn't there a cedar tree near here?” At his nod, she continued. “We could stop there on the way back, right?”

“Good thing we brought lots of rope.”

Mavis chuckled. “You always see to that. Remember when
we used to come up looking for trees when your far was alive? He always had a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit.”

Ransom nodded. Lucas let out a yelp.

“What's the matter?”

“Got a bucket of snow down my neck. That's all.”

Cassie didn't bother to try to hide her delighted cackle, and that set the others off. Micah muttered something unintelligible, and even Runs Like a Deer started to laugh. Othello bounced over and through the snow, sticking his head under the tree and barking at the two men.

“Othello, come here.” Cassie could barely get the words past the laughter erupting. Slowly the tree tipped to the side and fell into the snow. Micah and Lucas struggled to their feet.

“You better get the coffee and cookies out, Mor. We earned a break.”

Othello put both front paws up on Micah's shoulders and tipped him back in the snow. “Get off me, you mangy mutt.”

Cassie tried to call her dog off, but giggles got in the way. “H-he's . . . he's not a m-mangy mutt. Hold him, Othello.”

Othello sat down on Micah's chest and gave him a slurp from chin to hat.

“Cassie!”

“Serves you right.” She finally quit laughing enough to call her dog again, and this time he yipped and then came to her side.

Micah heaved himself to his feet in time to accept a cup of coffee, that, while no longer hot, was at least warm, and dug two cookies out of the sack. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” She handed a broken piece to the dog. “Good boy.”

Cassie caught Lucas and Micah exchanging glances, most likely of pity.

“All this for a Christmas tree.”

“That's right. You can be sure we won't forget this tree day.” Mavis sipped her coffee. “What an absolutely perfect day.”

Cassie agreed. She finished her cookie and tossed the dregs in her coffee cup out on the snow. This was a far cry from any Christmas she'd ever had before. If only her father and mother could be here to join them. Was this more like her mother's days in Norway, with snow and mountains and trees to cut in woods now richer with the smell of pine pitch? And a sky so blue it hurt your eyes and the sparkles between the snow and the sun as they battled for supremacy? Gratitude welled up in her heart and leaked out her eyes. She dashed the tears away and caught Mavis doing the same thing. The two smiled at each other, nodded, and started putting the coffee things back in the saddlebags.

Ransom dragged the tree on a rope behind his horse, and when they'd cut cedar limbs to add to the pine Lucas was pulling, they all made their way back to the cabin.

“Thank you,” Runs Like a Deer said as she slid to the ground. “I will come help with preparations if you want.”

“Thank you.” Mavis leaned over and reached for her hand. “I'll let you know when. I'm so glad you both came with us.”

“Me too.”

With everyone back on their own horses again, they rode on down to the ranch house.

If this was what family felt like, Cassie was all in favor. It wouldn't be long until she was a real member of the family, not just adopted by contract. The thought didn't bring the excitement she'd dreamed of feeling when preparing for a wedding—her wedding.

Her wedding.

W
hile the women were baking up a hurricane in the kitchen over the next couple of days, ranch chores remained pretty much the same. If the weather held, Ransom hoped to get those dried hardwoods milled so he could stash them in the barn, either at the homeplace or over at Arnett's. They'd know more regarding how dry the wood really was after sawing it into usable sizes. Now he not only needed to come up with Christmas gifts, he needed a wedding present for Lucas and Cassie. What could he make for them?

Doubts as to the wisdom of the union still raised their grizzled heads periodically, but he bashed them back down to the murk of confusion. He'd given Lucas his blessing, and that was that. It was time his younger brother stood on his own two feet. Upon thinking on it, the three brothers were so very different. Jesse was committed to becoming a doctor no matter what it took in the way of effort and dedication. Ransom's own dedication was for the ranch—not only keeping it alive but making it prosper. And Lucas? While definitely the most charming of the three, he seemed to lack that stick-to-itiveness that exemplified
the Engstrom blood, inherited from both mother and father. Gretchen at age twelve showed more determination than Lucas. Unless one thought about his ability to entertain. Ransom deliberately swung his thoughts away from Lucas.

The community was having a party at the church meeting hall on Friday night. Arnett had agreed to play Santa and was even shaping his beard for the role. While Ransom would just as soon stay home, the entire family would attend. So there he'd be, like it or not, smiling and making small talk and agreeing that the bride-to-be was beautiful.

She certainly was that.

Other than Sundays at church, this would be Cassie's community-wide introduction. If the Hudsons showed up, there would be sparks for sure.

Back to Lucas. The sooner he was married, the better.

Ransom decided he ought to quit thinking and pay closer attention to what he was doing. Eager to reach the barn, the horses had turned into the last gate so sharply, the front sledge corner scraped the upright post.
Come on, Ransom! Wake up! Daydreaming is for children.
And maybe for Lucas.

He turned to the man beside him as they drove toward the barn. “You think you and I and Micah can run that sawmill? Lucas won't be back until late.” He didn't add “as usual,” but he thought it. Lucas had taken the last of the smoked elk into Hill City. The orders from the hotel were going a long way toward keeping them solvent, or he'd complain more. To whom, he wasn't sure. His complaints didn't seem to faze his younger brother. And Mor certainly disapproved of them.

Arnett nodded sagely. “We could, but that extra set of hands moves things along better. Runs Like a Deer might be willing to keep the fire stoked and keep watch on the boiler. You want me to ask her?”

“Up to the cabin?”

“Nope, I saw her go down to the ranch house.”

Ransom stopped the team under the open door of the hayloft. “I'll go on up and fork it down. You spread it?”

On the good days, they fed the cattle out of the hayloft, and on the bad they opened the fence on one of the haystacks. This way they were able to waste less, although the buffalo cleaned up what the cattle trampled in their desire for the better hay. Spreading hay into the corners of the wagon—now turned sledge with the winter runners—and distributing the hay on the load helped them to pile more on, therefore needing fewer loads. Efficiency. Ransom loved efficiency.

“Sounds good to me.” Arnett stepped off the flat bed of the hay wagon, and they each removed the harness from one of the team and hung both on the wall inside the barn. “When's that cow gonna calve?”

“From the look of her, it should be any day.”

“Cassie said she wants to learn how to milk a cow.”

Ransom raised his eyebrows. “She did?”

“Son, you just don't give her credit. That little heifer has a heart big as this ol' barn. She's gonna make Lucas a fine wife. Just give her some time to catch up. She'd come up there and monitor that ol' boiler.”

Ransom didn't bother to answer. He was not going to ask her, and that was all there was to it. “Let's get this wagon loaded again, and then we'll see.”

“Good, you're just in time,” Mavis said when the two men returned to the house. “We're going over to Arnett's for an afternoon of cleaning, and two more sets of hands will make it happen faster.” She paused. “Unless you had something else planned, of course.”

Ransom heaved a sigh and shook his head. “It'll wait. But one of these days, I'm telling you, sometime this week I get all the men up at the mill.”

Mavis rolled her lips together. “Yes, sir. How about some sweet rolls to sweeten you up some?”

Ransom ignored her sass. Leave it to his mother to have the last word. “Thank you.” He took the snail-shaped roll with almond-flavored frosting and made short work of it on his way to the table for dinner. The house smelled good enough to eat, and his stomach rumbled to prove it. Maybe he should just give up and not try to get anything important done until after Christmas. And then the wedding. And then the New Year. One thing after another.

“Your turn to say grace, son.”

Ransom bowed his head. “Thank you, Lord, for this food before us and for the loving hands that prepared it. Amen.” Short was better than adding complaints, although he knew he needn't voice them for the Lord to see into his heart. And right now, he wished that were not so. No wonder God promised to change them, starting on the inside.

This seemed to be a pondering kind of day, he thought as he dished up the chicken and dumplings his mother set before them. If he spent much more time on it, he'd be back to fighting to come up with new ways to bring some cash money into the ranch. His mother had reminded him just last night how much they had to be thankful for. Leave it to her. She had an unerring instinct about when to push and when to remain silent. She'd called times like these
“serious stew times.”

He jerked his mind back to the table. Who had called his name? Glancing up, he realized most eyes were on him. He could play the dodging game or just come out and ask. Might as well own up. “Sorry, what did I miss?”

“Arnett asked if you wanted to search through his tools at the ranch for anything that might help with the furniture building.” His mother gave him her raised-eyebrow look.

“I thought . . .”Arnett paused, mouthing a bit of dumpling.
“I thought if we get those trees milled, we can store 'em in my barn and bring in the steam engine to provide power. Seems to me I have a plane and a lathe.” He shook his head. “Been so long since I did anything like that, I sorta forget. Hazel wanted to put my tools to right one time, but I scared her off. I didn't tell her what to do in the kitchen and she could right leave my tools alone.” He gave Ransom a considering look. “I looked at some of your plans. You got good ideas, son. Take after your pa, you do.”

Ransom narrowed his eyes, nodding gently all the while. “We need to go through Far's tools too. Lotta stuff got thrown in the corner. We find real treasures there from time to time. Sounds like both places could use some cleaning up.”

“We'll do Arnett's house first.” Mavis held up the bowl of chicken and dumplings. “Anyone for more?”

Ransom swapped a man's look with Arnett. The law had spoken.

The crew spent that afternoon and the better part of the following day laboring at Arnett's place. By the time the reluctant work crew needed to be back to the Bar E for chores, Arnett's house nearly sparkled with clean. The bedding had been washed by Mavis and Cassie, and now both inside and out of every cupboard, drawer, and closet bore the determination of women on the warpath against grime. Ransom and Arnett polished the windows that were no longer scrolled in frost paintings and swept down any cobweb that dared to exist, both inside and on the porches. The stove wore the sheen of vigorous scrubbing, leaving no trace of the rust that cast iron welcomed so warmly.

“Thank you all,” Mavis said, raising her voice to be heard above the harness bells as the cleaning crew headed home in the sleigh. She turned to Cassie. “Now you know where everything
is, and that mouse family got moved out. You take a cat with you when you move in too. There's nothing more comforting than a cat in front of a stove. It's a good thing Othello tolerates cats. He is one adaptable dog.”

Ransom glanced over to his mother and saw Cassie frowning. What burr had gotten under her saddle? One didn't usually see her with a furrow between her brows. Surely she should be pleased at all their hard work. Not every young bride got to move into a house all furnished and ready like Arnett's. And if she was disgusted with Lucas not being there to help, she just better get used to that. Lucas lived by his own clock. And even though they spent the afternoon on Arnett's spread, he and Arnett had nary a chance to get down to the barn and the machinery shop. He clucked the team into a trot. Maybe it was time to give Lucas a real piece of his mind.

The setting sun was dimming the land by the time he let the women off at the house. While Lucas's horse was in the corral and the fires were restoked in the house, there was no sign of Lucas.

Gretchen met them at the door. “You could have left me a note or something. I was beginning to worry.”

“You only missed out on cleaning out my ranch house, little girl,” Arnett said. “Be glad. Where's Lucas?”

She shrugged. “Don't know.” She hung up her mother's coat and scarf while the others put the cleaning supplies away. “I put the leftovers on to heat when I saw you coming.”

“Thank you, dear. Did you and Jenna have a good time?”

She bobbed her head. “We're supposed to remind all the families about the party, since it is to raise funds for the school. We need new textbooks.”

Ransom left them talking and headed back out to take the team to the barn. When he opened the barn door, he saw the lit lantern hanging by the box stall, where he could hear Lucas
talking. He left the horses stamping against the deepening cold and leaned over the half wall.

The cow was up and Lucas was cleaning off the calf with wisps of hay and a gunnysack. She nosed her baby to get it moving while Lucas stepped back.

“What happened?” Ransom kept his voice low.

“She needed some help. I looped the rope around the front legs and helped it out. One mighty big calf, but he took a little rib pushing to get him breathing. Too long in the birth canal, but he's getting stronger.”

They watched as the calf tried to get his back feet under him, but instead of standing, the wobbly newborn collapsed back in the straw. His mother nudged him again and continued licking him dry. He shook his head and tried again, this time getting his rump in the air and his front feet straightened out. As he heaved himself to a shaky standing, the two men silently cheered him on. The cow turned to get her udder closer to him. After another collapse, he bumped her with his nose and finally found the teat.

Ransom was impressed with the baby's persistence. “That cow is one mighty fine mother. This is what? Her fifth calf?”

Lucas nodded. “I think so. An hour ago I wouldn't have bet on his making it.”

“I'm glad you were here.”

“Me too. Heard her distress call when I was unsaddling. I think she'd been at it for quite a while already.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I'm going for a bucket of warm water for her. Wish we had some of those oats ground. Warm mash might be just what she needs.”

“Put some molasses in it too. I'll get the team put away.” Ransom watched his brother heading for the house, a bucket swinging from his gloved hand. He'd done it again. About the time Ransom was ready to light into him, he did something just
right. They might have lost the calf and had a dreadfully sick cow had it gone on too long.

He let the horses out into the corral, hung up the harnesses, and after feeding the hogs and checking the chickens that had gone to roost, headed for the house. He saw Arnett out on the porch refilling woodboxes, the warm lamplight through the windows making him pick up his pace. He met bundled-up Cassie and Lucas coming out the back door.