Place to Belong, a (16 page)

Cassie wriggled in deeper. She found skiing fun and this new world of snow and cold interesting. But her nose felt very cold already, and they'd not yet left the last gate behind. She was beginning to understand better why the show went south for the winter.

Their sleigh jingled cheerfully into town and up to the large hall behind the church, the horses' bells joining the jangle of other horse bells. Cassie did not feel cheerful. The Engstrom horses looked dark in the flanks and steam rose off their backs. Ransom and Lucas double-blanketed them against the cold. Cassie scooped up two baskets and, with Gretchen right behind her, followed Mavis inside. Mavis marched over to where the women were putting the food tables together.

An older lady whom Cassie had not met called, “Hello, Mavis! If you have something hot, there is still some room in the oven.”

“Not this time. The roast is done.” Mavis waved an arm in several directions. “Gretchen, salads there. Cassie, you put the cakes on that table over there. Make sure you cut them in even pieces or the older boys will start arguing over who gets which piece. Make sure there is a pancake turner in each too. We'll eat later this evening but we want it all to be ready now.”

Cassie did as she was instructed, smiling at the other women and introducing herself when they did. All the time she was wishing she could go off with the girls like Gretchen did, or better yet, just stay home. She had just finished cutting the second cake, when the musicians quit their discordant tuning and a polka was announced. Lucas appeared at her side.

“Do you know how to polka?” At her nod, he took her hand and swung her out onto the dance floor to join the others whirling to the music. The movements were too fast to talk much, but the joy of the music made her smile and finally laugh. She kicked her heels high.

“That's my girl,” Lucas said in her ear at the finish. He stayed beside her as the music started again, but Arnett tapped his shoulder and swung her away into a waltz.

“You dance mighty good,” Arnett said.

“My father taught me. He and my mother loved to dance, but when they did the waltz, all the world stopped to watch them.”

“Well, missy, you have their grace, then. You make an old man look good.”

She saw Lucas dancing with Gretchen and Ransom with his mother. All ages were on the floor. She watched a father dancing with his daughter, the child young enough to stand on the tops of his shoes as he danced them both around. A mother held her little son in her arms, and they twirled around the room, the little guy giggling and making those around him laugh too. When that dance finished, the announcer called for a square dance, and Cassie went to get a drink of punch.

Lucas found her. “Do you know how to square dance?”

“Sort of. But I'm not very good at it.”

“Come on, the caller will tell you what to do.” He hustled her back out onto the dance floor, where they joined three other couples to form a square. “Cassie says she's not used to this, so we'll all have to make sure she goes the right way.” The others laughed and greeted her.

The caller looked very familiar. Who was he? She realized it was Edgar McDougal, the sheriff. His booming voice rang out with a lilt.

But she immediately forgot about the caller, because keeping up took all her concentration. The allemande left, with which
the dance began, was especially vexing. A couple of times one of the men would grab her and guide her into the next step. At the end she wanted nothing more than to simply sit down, for a minute at least.

“You did just fine, Miss Cassie,” one of the men said. “You can dance in our square anytime.”

That stranger's kind words pleased her more than she would have guessed.

She plopped onto a chair along the wall and just watched. Young and old, good dancers and poor dancers, hefty men and dainty girls, they all danced as if they were the greatest dancers in the world. No, that was not quite it. They were dancing as if making an error did not matter. That was it. Mistakes didn't matter. Is that what life is all about? Do your best, ignore the mistakes, and move on? Might that make a marriage of friends turn into a lifetime of love for two people?

The music paused and Sheriff McDougal announced another waltz. Ransom appeared in front of her and extended his hand. “I won't let Arnett steal you this time.” She smiled as he led her out onto the floor. Arnett had led well, but Ransom was even finer.

The piece had scarcely begun when she noticed Ransom looking at something off to the side. She followed his gaze to see Lucas talking with Betsy Hudson. They moved beyond other dancers, and she lost sight of them. Now why had he done that?

“Everyone dances with everyone at these shindigs,” Ransom said when the music stopped. “He was most likely just being polite.” He'd not said a word the entire dance, but Cassie remembered his mother claiming that Ransom didn't like taking part in social chatter. He was uncomfortable with idle talk. Keeping silent hadn't been hard for Cassie either, for she felt pretty much the same, but keeping her thoughts away from Lucas and Betsy was another matter.

Cassie nodded. “Thank you.” But when she looked up at
Ransom, she saw that his jaw had that same hard look as when he and his brother went out to chop wood.

When the musicians called for a break, the women put the finishing touches to the tables and asked Pastor Brandenburg to say grace.

After the amen, Gretchen came to stand beside Cassie. “Do you want to eat with me and Jenna and some of the other girls? They have been wanting to meet you.”

Cassie nodded, forcing herself to ignore the feeling that Lucas should come to eat with her, but maybe things were different here. She'd been afraid he was going to announce their wedding in spite of her asking him not to, but he didn't. So that was something to be grateful for. But still . . .

When Arnett and Ransom sat down across the table to eat with them too, she wondered again. But then maybe that was the way things were done out here. She put her thoughts aside, for now Mavis brought her plate over, and it became more like at home. Then all the girls began to bombard Cassie with questions.

“How long did you star in the Wild West Show?” “How old is your horse?” “Did you really raise a bull buffalo?” She added some stories of her show days, but when Gretchen told about her talking horse, that brought down the house. She'd not realized Gretchen was such a good storyteller, but at her description of Wind Dancer flipping Pastor Brandenburg's hat off, they all laughed and giggled.

So when Reverend Brandenburg stopped at their group and said, “You might not want to believe all that you hear,” they all burst out laughing again.

“Will you do a show like that again so we can all come?” one of the girls asked.

“I don't know. Maybe Gretchen could have a party and—”

“Of course!” Mavis smiled broadly. “And you could all come.
I think that could be arranged as soon as the snow is gone and the land dries up some. The corrals are really slippery sloppy in the early spring. What a fine idea.” Mavis smiled at Cassie. “If it is all right with you, Cassie dear.”

“I would love to do that. And I know Wind Dancer would love to show off for young ladies. He has a special spot in his heart for girls, you know.” At Gretchen's grin, Cassie leaned over and gave her a hug. “We'll have fun for sure.”

When the music started again, Cassie looked around for Lucas, but she didn't see him anywhere. She didn't see Betsy either. One of the other men asked her to dance, a youngish fellow, and he apologized for his strangely red nose. He said it had gotten too cold when he was out driving stock in from pasture. He was a very good dancer, and she forgot about the twinges of disquiet deep inside her. When she finally saw Lucas again, he was dancing with his mother.

Sometime later, when the sheriff called out that this was the last waltz of the evening, Lucas stopped at her shoulder. “Will you dance this one with me?”

“Of course.” She turned into his arms, and they dipped and swayed with the others. “Is this a typical dance out here?”

“Pretty much, although Santa usually doesn't visit.”

“Arnett was a good Santa.” Cassie looked at the tree in the corner, now bare of the gifts that had been under it. Every child in the place had received a wrapped present, along with an orange and a candy cane. The little ones were especially delighted and sucked on their candy canes for the rest of the evening.

The music ended and Cassie found herself wishing it would go longer. And to think she hadn't wanted to come!

Everyone clapped their appreciation to the musicians. Then began the exodus for recovering wraps and finding their own kitchen things.

“This was such fun.”

Lucas laughed. “Haven't you about danced your shoes out? You only missed one the whole evening.”

“Feels that way.” She smiled at Mrs. Brandenburg, who was passing by with an empty casserole dish. “The people here are really friendly, aren't they?”

“You are easy to be friendly to.”

“Why, thank you.”

The hall emptied quickly and the families climbed into their sleighs. One set of sleigh bells, then three, then a cacophony jangled cheerfully in the cold night air, but now Cassie was cheerful too.

“I'll meet you at home,” Lucas called as Ransom turned the team toward the ranch.

Snuggled down under the robes, Cassie felt Gretchen slump against her shoulder, sound asleep. She had a hard time keeping her own eyes open. Would they really go back into town Sunday for the Christmas service? Snowflakes started drifting down. And now they were zipping, not drifting. Cassie wanted to shake all this loose snow off the blankets, but that would let cold air in. Better to let it lie. By the time they reached the ranch, the snow on the blankets lay an inch deep and it was snowing hard enough to make seeing the road impossible.

“Good thing the horses know their way,” Ransom said at one point. But Lucas was not at the ranch when they climbed out of the sleigh, and he hadn't yet returned by the time Ransom and Arnett put the team away. From her room, Cassie heard Ransom come in. Not long after, the dogs barked, announcing that Lucas was home. All safe. She ought to join the others in the kitchen; instead she crawled into her soft, cold bed and tied herself into a tight knot, waiting for her chilly nest to warm up. She was so tired!

She'd had a good time, most of the time, but some things just didn't seem quite right.

C
assie sat staring at the Christmas tree they'd finished decorating. White candles were clipped to the ends of branches to be lit on Christmas Day. The bushy pine tree stood seven feet tall, with a silver star on top that Ivar had made years earlier. Popcorn strings looped the tree and glass icicles hung, glinting back the light from the fireplace. And the ornaments! Hand-carved sleighs, horses, and snowmen, with more stars and crocheted red bells, white angels, and blown-glass balls peeked out from among the fragrant boughs. And candy canes. Not glass, not carved. Actual candy. She'd never seen such a lovely tree. Sure, it was beautiful before they decorated it, but now . . .

“Wait until you see the candles lit.” Mavis handed her a cup of cocoa and sat down beside her, a cup in her hand. Gretchen brought in a matching steaming mug and a plate of cookies.

“Are we going to frost cookies this afternoon?” She sat at her mother's feet, joining the others in staring from tree to crackling fire.

Mavis smiled at her daughter. “If you'd like. We need to
bake another batch of sour cream cookies too, so you can frost some of them.”

“The gingerbread men need faces and buttons. How come you forgot the raisins?”

“You weren't here to remind me.”

Gretchen grinned up at Cassie and rolled her eyes. “I told you I needed to stay home from the Hendersons'.”

“Are all your Christmases like this?” Cassie made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the room. Arnett had made small wreaths to hang in the windows and a big one for the door. Pine boughs over the doors and windows and lit candles in the windows flanking the front door made the room even more festive.

Mavis nodded as she looked around. “I love it like this. I always hate to put Christmas away.”

“Where are the men?”

“Down in the barn working on something secret.”

“I wonder what it is.” Gretchen grinned at Cassie. “Maybe we should sneak down there and look in the window.”

Her mother nudged her with her knee. “You'll do no such thing. But we could bring in those presents that are wrapped and put them under the tree. Mine are done.”

“Mine too.” Cassie had raided the brown paper stash to wrap hers, using bright yarn for the ribbon. “My mother used to love wrapping presents. One year she sewed a bunch of bags of calico and muslin and used those to wrap the packages. I think people were as pleased with the bags as the gifts.”

Mavis nodded. “That's a very good idea. One can always find a use for a drawstring bag. That would be a good way to use up those scraps too. That and for quilts.”

Cassie nodded. “I saw a patchwork skirt one time. I always thought that would be a fun thing to do.”

Gretchen propped her chin on her hands and her elbows on
her knees. “I'd like that. We could each make one after Christmas while I'm still on vacation.”

“Remember, we have a wedding to prepare for.”

“Mor, remember when you made my rag doll?” Gretchen looked over her shoulder. “I thought she was the most beautiful doll ever. You even dyed and braided the yarn for her hair.”

“Is that the one on your pillow?” Cassie asked.

“Yes. Mor repaired her for me a couple of years ago, and I sewed her a new dress. I'm going to give her to my little girl someday.”

“I had a doll once too, but I never was one to play with dolls. I liked the animals in the Wild West Show better. Every spring we'd have calves, and then my father found me a puppy. His name was Fredrick, and I called him Fred. When he grew old and died, we found Othello, who's been with me ever since. Along with George and Wind Dancer, of course. I had a pony for years too. Her name was Miss Jay. I called her Missy. It is so hard because animals grow old much faster than we do. I cried for days after she went lame and my father put her down. He said it was an act of mercy, but I had a hard time forgiving him. I was so sure she would get well again.”

Gretchen sniffed. “That makes me sad too. It's bad enough when a wolf gets one in the winter, but that seems more natural. Still, I cried too when a wolf got one of our ponies once. I wanted to go hunt and kill the wolf, but Ransom said no. That was the way of the wild and the wolves were doing what God made them to do. Take care of the old and infirm.”

“Remind me not to get old and infirm around here,” Cassie said with a shudder that made Gretchen and her mother chuckle. She drained her mug and set it on the low table, eyeing the candle in the center. “Did you make the candles too?”

“I made a bunch of them years ago, and this is one of the last ones left. Used to be we made candles out of melted fat or
tallow. One year we found a bees' nest and I used the beeswax. This is one of those.”

Cassie shook her head. “Do I need to learn that too?”

Mavis chuckled and patted her hand. “No, Cassie. Now we can buy candles, like we buy kerosene for the lamps. Some places have gaslights and some have electricity now, like they did at the Chicago World's Fair. Someday we'll have electricity and telephones too. Things just come slower to the ranches than to the towns, especially the big towns like Rapid City and Hill City.”

Gretchen snorted. “Mr. Porter will have the latest in Hill City—just ask Lucas.”

Boots stomped, the kitchen door slammed. “That's the men. Go pull the coffeepot forward, Gretchen, will you please. I'll be right there.” When Gretchen left the room, Mavis turned to Cassie. “Is there anything else you would like me to do to get ready for the wedding? What are you wearing?”

“Not that I can think of. I know Lucas wants apple pie instead of a cake. And I have a good dress in the chifforobe at the cabin. I need to get it out and get it pressed. I'd like to take that over to the other house—the chifforobe, I mean.”

“Of course. And we'll need to stock the pantry too. Did you look through the kitchen things when we cleaned?”

“No, I didn't take the time to look carefully, but I am learning to use the basic things, at least. I will discover soon enough what I lack.” She thought for a moment. “I know there wasn't a lot of firewood there.”

“We'll take over a load of that too.”

They both stared into the fire for a moment, watching the orange flames slither about, the blue flames hiding among the blackening sticks.
What is it about fire that is so enthralling?

“Cassie, I cannot begin to tell you how delighted I am that you will soon be my daughter-in-law. That is the best Christmas present ever, far as I'm concerned.”

“Thank you. I will do my best.”

“I know you will.” She squeezed Cassie's hand. “I suppose I better go see to the men.”

Cassie listened to the conversation going on. Lucas was teasing Gretchen, and Arnett cautioned her to stand up for herself. Gretchen said something they couldn't hear, but the laughter from the three men said she was taking Arnett's advice to heart.

Both women stood and headed for the kitchen.

“The lefse! Of course. We must make lefse,” Mavis said as they paused in the doorway.

Like little boys, Lucas and Ransom started arguing over who had to peel all the potatoes this year.

Arnett stepped in. “You two go finish hauling the milled wood down and I will peel the potatoes.” He didn't have to offer twice before the brothers were out the door, as if fearing he might change his mind.

“I could surely peel the potatoes,” Cassie offered.

“No, this is just fine. It's bad cold out there. Let them work off some of that steam. I used to peel the potatoes for my Hazel. She was the best lefse maker in the valley.” He grinned at Mavis. “Other than you, of course.”

“So many years she and I made lefse together. And usually fried fattigmann the same day. Both jobs that did better with two sets of hands. I know last year you seemed mighty lost.”

He nodded. “I only went to church with you 'cause you came and dragged me out, brought me over here. I weren't much caring if I lived or died. And this year, you took me in again.” He sniffed.

Mavis wiped her eyes with the handkerchief in her apron pocket. “Seems I remember two neighbors who stood by me after Ivar died. Good thing I had the children, not that the boys were children any longer, but keeping busy makes the grief easier to bear. It's just part of life is all, and God promises to
walk beside us. Sometimes I think He does that in the guise of neighbors and friends.”

Cassie could certainly understand that. “I was fifteen when my father died, and I thought the light had gone out in the whole world. I kept seeing him reunited with my mother, and I knew they were almighty happy again. That helped but not always. The people around me took care of me.”

“Ah, isn't this supposed to be a happy day?” Arnett asked. “Sure doesn't seem like it so far.”

“Start peeling.”

By the time she'd rolled out the tenth ball of dough to the thickness Mavis required, Cassie had that part of the process down. So she switched to using the thin, flat lefse stick to turn over the circles of dough, bigger than pie dough, on the top of the range. She used crumbled newspaper to clean the flour off the grill every now and then and stacked the finished lefse in the layers of towels that kept it from drying out.

“I remember my mother doing this on Christmas, but I was too little to help. She took over the kitchen in the cook tent for the afternoon. I loved being there with her. I remember it being a happy party with lots of laughter and some kind of hot drink. They'd raise their cups or goblets and everyone would say ‘skÃ¥l' and take a drink. I was never offered a cup to join them.

“That night for supper, they'd bring out the translucent fish to the table from baking in the oven, potatoes and lots of melted butter, along with the lefse that I thought was the best. I never cared much for lutefisk, but I ate my share to be polite.”

She remembered her father whispering in her ear,
“Eat it quick and it goes down easier. We do this for your mother because it really makes her happy.”
They'd never had lutefisk and lefse after her mother died. Quickly she shut off the memories. She'd think of them later or any minute she would be bawling like a baby. She glanced up to see Lucas watching her. The look in his
eyes made her think perhaps he too knew something of sorrow. Maybe someday they would be able to talk about things like this and begin Christmas traditions in their house too.

Lord, I want a marriage like my mother and father had. I know they might not have started out the way I remember them, but they loved each other so much. Mavis reminds me that nothing is impossible with you. I'll keep telling myself that. After all, look at all the miracles you have done here so far.

“Are you all right?” Gretchen asked quietly.

Cassie nodded. “I will be.” She'd never had a sister before either. Surely this was another miracle.

They woke up Christmas morning to wind-driven snow. It not only fell from the lead-gray sky, the wind carried the powdery stuff along the ground. A horizontal snow to go with the vertical snow, drifting against the buildings and fences, piling in a cone up against every tree. The men went to the barn to milk and take care of the animals, and Cassie was downright happy she didn't have to go out there.

Arnett arrived covered in snow. Even his beard had ice in it. “Sure glad we strung them ropes to the barn and bunkhouse. It's so thick out there you can get lost even in that short distance.” He hung up his things and then backed up to the woodstove, a moment later turning to face the heat. “What we need is one o' them rotisserie things, toasts all your sides.”

When the boys staggered back into the house, Ransom plunked the milk pail down and announced that they'd not be going to town for church, but then everyone knew that anyway. While this was not a true blizzard yet, there was a strong possibility it would turn into one. As they sat down for breakfast, they could hear the wind shrieking at the corners of the house.