Place to Belong, a (7 page)

“Please.” Micah looked to Cassie.

His nervousness made her catch her bottom lip between her teeth. “It'll be okay.”

Runs Like a Deer shot a glance at the back door, as if she wanted to vanish out of it. Instead, she squared her shoulders and tried to smile at Cassie. She was only able to nod, a very brief nod. Lucas and Arnett went ahead and Ransom guided the others ahead of him.

Reverend Brandenburg had his back to the fire and a smile wide as the Black Hills to greet his party. “Thank you for asking me to do this for you, Micah, Runs Like a Deer. I am honored. And I know our Lord is shining His pleasure down on this group too. I need one more thing: your complete names, to enter into
our church records and to fill in the marriage certificate.” He looked to Micah. “Micah?”

Micah swallowed and looked to Cassie. “Lockwood.” The word nearly broke in his mouth.

Cassie nodded, her smile rivaling that of the pastor. “My father would be very proud to share our name with you. Thank you.”
I will have a brother and sister after this
. Her heart sang out.
Thank you, heavenly Father! Tell my mother and father about this, if you will.

“And you, Runs Like a Deer?”

“Cranston.” She stared at the floor then looked to the pastor with a swift glance before her gaze again riveted itself to the floor.

“Good. Then let us begin.” He motioned for the two of them to stand in front of him, and Cassie took her place beside the woman with Ransom on the other side of Micah.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the presence of God and this company to join these two people in holy matrimony. Let us pray.”

Cassie felt the rich words flow over and around her. She knew she had done the right thing in asking this man to perform the ceremony rather than a justice of the peace or following an Indian tradition that might or might not even be the correct tradition for Runs Like a Deer's heritage.

“Do you, Micah Lockwood, take this woman, Runs Like a Deer Cranston, for your lawfully wedded wife?”

Micah Lockwood. Cassie couldn't quit smiling. She listened to the remainder of the short service with half a mind while the other half jumped up and down for joy. Now Reverend Brandenburg was saying, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Micah gave his bride a quick kiss on the cheek and blushed red. His bride looked no less nonplussed. Surely they both knew this was coming! Deep inside, Cassie giggled, but she didn't let it show.

Everyone applauded, and congratulations flowed like honey on a hot day.

“Congratulations.” Ransom shook Micah's hand. “Guess this makes you officially part of the family now that your name is Lockwood.”

“Micah, did you never have a last name?” Cassie asked a question that she'd wondered about for years. Her father had thought the scraggly young man that came asking for a job one day was ashamed of his last name, and Cassie had never wanted to hurt his feelings by asking. Now, at last, curiosity overcame her.

“I don't know. Don't remember much about when I was young. I know I was real sick for a long time, and when I finally got better, I didn't remember much from my life before. Then my mom got sick and died and an old lady took care of me. She told me to call her Gramma, and I did. When she died, I was on my own, and all I knew was taking care of her animals.”

Cassie stared at him. “How long before you came to the Wild West Show?”

“It came to town about the same time, and an old man who was a neighbor said I should go ask for a job, and I did. And your father hired me. A mighty good thing.”

“All these years you never said anything.”

“You never asked.” He smiled at her, about the biggest smile she'd ever seen. “When your pa was dying, he asked me and Chief to take care of his little girl. And so we did our best.”

“But now Chief left.”

“Said he figured you was now where you needed to be and weren't nothing more he could do for you.”

Cassie sniffed back tears that she refused to allow to fall and perhaps sadden this day. All these years her father had provided for her after all.

“I always knew Adam Lockwood was a fine man.” Mavis
nodded as she spoke, a smile playing with the edges of her eyes and mouth. “And this just goes to prove it. Goes to prove our heavenly Father makes it all work together for good. Every time I see that verse in action, I get goose bumps.”

Reverend Brandenburg shook Micah's hand. “Thank you for such a fine story on such a fine day. Makes my heart about bubble over with joy. And now, I was told there would be cake, and I think coffee and cake is another fine idea.” He rubbed his hands together.

His wife elbowed him in the side. “You always think coffee and cake is a fine idea, especially when Mavis is doing the baking.”

“Now, Ellie, you make fine cakes too.”

Mavis was beaming. “You all sit down and visit, and we'll bring it in here. I made a layer cake for this special occasion.”

When everyone was served, Reverend Brandenburg blessed the food and the newly married couple. His eyes lit up at the first bite of frosted cake. “Sure makes the drive out here worthwhile, not that we didn't have a dandy mission on top of that.”

Runs Like a Deer sat slightly behind Micah, and when Cassie saw her look at him, she had to smile too. Runs Like a Deer loved her husband. You could see the love, actually see it. It glowed from her dark eyes. It vibrated through her body. And while she didn't smile much, she did when he said something or turned and looked at her.

Arnett dug a package out from behind him in the chair and handed it to her. “I thought you might like to have this. Belonged to my wife.”

Runs Like a Deer stared at him, then down to the proffered box, shaking her head.

“Take it,” Micah said softly.

She did and unwrapped a small cameo on a black ribbon. “Oh my.” She draped the pendant over her hand. Shaking her head, she tried to hand it back. “Too fine.”

“Thank you from both of us,” Micah said, his hand cupping the one holding the cameo. “We will treasure this.”

Runs Like a Deer swallowed hard. “Yes, thank you.” With both hands she clutched the piece of jewelry to her chest. “Thank you.”

When the two rode back up the hill, they had buttons from Lucas, an ax from Ransom, ownership of the rifle he'd been using from Cassie, a box of kitchen things from the Brandenburgs, and two cooking pans from Mavis that Cassie knew were Runs Like a Deer's favorite pans to use.

“We better be heading back to town,” Brandenburg said. “Get your coat, Ellie, and we'll be on our way.”

“Getting coolish out there again,” Ransom said. “We'll bring up your team. You stay in here where it is warm.” He and Lucas shrugged into their sheepskin coats and headed for the barn.

Cassie began gathering up the dishes. She scooped up some cake crumbs from the edge of the cake plate and closed her eyes, the better to appreciate the delicious treat. Maybe she should just tell Lucas that she'd marry him. Get all this yes-and-no stuff taken care of. Uncertainty was never a comfortable shirt.

J
ust tell him.

Ransom's orders to himself sounded faintly like some     of his memories of his father. He stared up at the ceiling but couldn't see it in the darkness. He could usually fall into bed and immediately into the deep well of sleep, but not tonight. Was it the wedding this afternoon in the big room that was causing him to doubt his actions? Micah and Runs Like a Deer both looked happy, and while neither one of them showed their emotions much, today had indeed been a special day for them.

And Ransom had caught his brother watching Cassie. Why had she not accepted his proposal? Surely marrying Lucas would solve a lot of her problems. And if he really allowed the rather unchristian thought to take life, all the ranch would be back in the family. So why didn't he just tell Lucas that he now believed that Lucas was truly in love with Cassie and all his shenanigans with Betsy were the actions of—of what? An irresponsible boy? One who indeed trifled with a fine young woman's affections, like Betsy's brother had said? And he was Lucas's best friend. Was Betsy so brokenhearted, as her family had said, that she would go off somewhere to pine?

His thoughts tumbled over and around one another, each hollering for attention, like a schoolyard full of children playing blind man's bluff.

What about Cassie? As always there were two sides to every coin. She still maintained she did not want to marry Lucas. And she treated him like a brother, which is what his mother said Cassie had said more than once. How would she know what she felt if she'd never had a brother or ever before been in love? But then, had anyone asked her if she was in love with someone from her past? She'd never mentioned a man in her life, other than her father, of course, and that despicable Jason Talbot.

Ransom thumped his pillow and turned over for the third time. Maybe he should just get up, light a lamp, and work on some of the things on his desk. While the accounts were all current, he never had enough time to draw his dreams of furniture to build. Or to look through the catalogs that came in the mail. He huffed out a sigh. His mother would tell him to quit stewing and start praying. But why should he expect God to work this out? After all—after all, what? Now he was even questioning his questioning. And what about the offer Arnett made? He needed to think that through and come up with something they could all be comfortable with.

Having the old man living at the bunkhouse was not payment enough for a ranch, not in any kind of deals he'd ever seen. Actually, he'd thought that if Lucas and Cassie were to marry, they could move into that ranch house rather than up to the cabin like Cassie had mentioned.

How could life get so complicated? All he wanted was to get the mine restored and spend wintertime up there, digging, searching for another vein of gold. Something kept prompting him to do that. Was God truly talking to him, as his mother said might be the case, or was it his ego, wanting to prove his father wrong? Why did he have the feeling that there was a secret in
that mine? Did his mother know the secret and just refused to tell, or . . . Mor was certainly a good one for keeping secrets. She had even kept secret that the Lockwoods were half owners of this ranch. His eyes finally felt heavy enough to close, and he exhaled another deep breath. Maybe he wouldn't have to go work at his desk after all.

Ransom woke to a frost-rimed window, the early shards of morning setting the intricate patterns painted on the window to spearing his eyes with shafts of yellow brilliance. Stove lids rattled from the kitchen. His mother was up. Maybe he should talk over some of his late-night musings and see what she thought.

But the sight of Cassie starting the fire in the cookstove instead of his mother stopped him in the doorway. With her hair bundled into a snood and one of his mother's aprons nearly covering her from neck to foot, she rattled the grate just like Mavis taught her.

“Would you like me to do that?” he asked.

She jerked around, one hand to her throat. “Goodness, you have to go and scare a body like that?”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“Thank you, but no thanks. I need to learn to do all these things, and the only way to learn them is to do them. I'm thinking I need to learn how to milk the cow too. Oh, and Lucas has already gone to the barn.”

Without bellyaching? Ransom made sure his shock didn't show on his face. With Cassie in the kitchen, he would've thought his brother would be there offering to start the fire. “Is Mor ill?”

“Not that I know of.”

“No, she is not ill” came a voice from behind him. “But I can't
believe I slept in like that.” She lifted an apron off the hook on the wall and, after sliding her arms through the crossed straps, tipped it over her head and fastened the ties at the waist. “Now, Cassie, how do you want me to help?”

“If you'd like to start the coffee, I'll get the cornmeal mush out and slice it. We fry it in the saved bacon grease, right?”

Mavis nodded and walked to the sink to pump the handle for water to flow and filled the coffeepot.

The fire crackled in the stove and perfumed the air with the fragrance of pine from the pitchy kindling Cassie had started it with. Ransom made a mental note to check the chimney for tar buildup. He hadn't done that lately. Most people just let it burn out now and then. That sort of wild and roaring fire made him too nervous. He'd sweep, thank you.

Mavis set the coffee water on the hottest part of the stove and fetched the ground coffee from the cupboard. Instead of grinding coffee every day like many people did, she usually ground a quart jar full and kept it in the cupboard.

“Looks like we're about due for some grinding here.” She emptied the last of the coffee into the pot.

Ransom looked at the clock over the kitchen sink. “Is Gretchen up yet?”

“Yes. She's getting ready for school. She said she feels like she's on vacation, not having to milk in the morning. You going to pitch hay down?”

“Thought I'd hitch up the team. We filled the wagon last night.” Once a day they hauled a wagonload of hay from the haymow and fed it to the herd. As soon as the snow got deep, they would open the fence around a haystack and feed the cattle that way in order to keep them up closer to the barns. So far there had not been enough snow to even put the wagon bed on the sledge runners.

He stopped at the kitchen window. “Those clouds are hanging
mighty low. Bet we get snow again today, and from the looks of it, more than we've had.”

Cassie paused as she was slicing the cornmeal that had set up firmly in a bread pan. “How do you know that?”

“Ranchers learn to read the weather signs. Black clouds like those to the north mean snow at this time of year, and in the summer you would most likely see lightning forking against the black. We are long overdue for a heavy snowstorm.”

“Do you think Chief made it to the reservation by now?”

“I'm sure he did,” Mavis answered. “That other snow wasn't really enough to slow down a horse.”

“I sure hope he writes and lets us know he is all right.” Cassie's voice sounded mighty worried.

“Reverend Brandenburg said he'd make inquiries.” Mor's voice sounded soft and reassuring.

Ransom shrugged into his sheepskin coat and clamped his hat down on his head. “If the wind kicks up and builds drifts, we'll be in it for sure.” He stopped on the back porch and pulled his leather gloves on. Usually by now he was wearing the gloves his mother knit to go inside the leather. When it really got cold, he had fur-lined mittens that he pulled on.

He stared up the hill to where the rising light set the frost-coated trees on fire as the sun hit them. Smoke rose from the chimney of the cabin and from the bunkhouse too. One of the cows bellowed, to be answered by another. A horse whinnied. Lucas came out of the barn with the milk bucket on his arm and shut the door behind him, dropping the bar into place.

“Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes, so we'll haul hay afterward. I'll get Gretchen's horse saddled,” Ransom announced, as if Lucas didn't already know all that.

Lucas nodded and headed for the well house, where he would strain the milk and set it in pans for the cream to rise. “I'll ask Mor if she wants the cream in to churn. We have quite a bit.
I took a bucket of skimmed milk down to the hogs and the chickens.”

“You already fed them?” Another shock. What was happening to his brother? Maybe, just maybe, he'd decided to grow up and begin to accept more of the responsibilities around here without being asked. Maybe the thought of marriage was encouraging that decision. Maybe this could be a good thing, after all.

He saddled Biscuit and led the horse up to the house, tying it out of the rising wind. When he entered the kitchen, he found Cassie frying the mush as fast as Gretchen and Lucas could devour it. With the churn sitting by the stove, he figured they'd have fresh butter for dinner.

“Why didn't you have the wagon come by and pick you up here?” he asked his little sister.

“They'd have to leave earlier. Hudsons ride over too. I think John doesn't really want to drive the box.”

In a way, Ransom admired that his little sister was thoughtful toward her schoolmates. “But he's the oldest now that his brother is gone. I'd say he's stuck with the job.”

She nodded. “I don't mind riding over. I'd rather ride all the way in, but this is warmer and easier on Biscuit.” She looked to Lucas. “Did you guys ever ride in the box?”

“Didn't have the choice. They built the box after we were out of school. Jenna's pa came up with the idea.” Lucas nodded when Cassie asked if he wanted a refill on his coffee.

Arnett chimed in, “My wife taught our children when they was real small. Then they built the school in Argus.”

“Why don't you come drive the wagon while I pitch the hay out?” Ransom suggested to Arnett after they finished breakfast. “Then we can take a load of wood and supplies up to the mine. You have something else planned, Lucas?”

“Nope, but if we're going to work up there, we do need plenty of supplies. Long as that storm holds off.”

The three men dressed for the cold and headed to the barn.

Can animals be obviously eager when they're just standing there looking? It sure seems like they can.
Every eye watched and every ear pricked forward as the hay wagon approached the gate. Every hoof hurried over, the shaggy animals surrounding the wagon as the men forked out all the hay. Ransom felt something deeply satisfying about meeting such primal needs in the animals under his care. George swung his massive head toward one of the longhorns. She quickly found another place to eat.

The three drove back to the house and started loading firewood. The wind kicked up, but they ignored the cold and drove on up to the mine, where they tossed the wood into a somewhat haphazard pile inside the mouth of the mine. On the way over to the sawmill, they swung by the cabin to ask Micah if he would come help load the timbers.

With four of them working, the job went fast. That Micah certainly didn't sit around exploring his fingernails. He was a fine worker. They took two loads of the cut timbers and, backing the wagon in as far as it would go, stacked the timbers in piles, ready for restoring the mine. On their way back for another load, the snow swirled and dipped, but still the main storm held off.

“You must be holding your mouth just right or something, because those clouds haven't opened up and dumped all over us,” Lucas teased his brother.

“I guess. Thought sure it would hit before now.” They unloaded the third load before the snow grew thick enough to cut visibility. “It's dinnertime, so Micah, you want to come eat at the house or—?”

“Thanks, but I'll go back to the cabin. If you decide to continue—”

“I doubt it. Once this starts it'll probably snow all night. You got all you need up there?”

“Plenty of wood, more that I could split if we need it. Thanks
for asking.” Micah strode off to the cabin, and the others drove down to back the wagon into the barn again and unharness the horses. When the three entered the kitchen, the smell of fresh bread and cinnamon rolls greeted them.