In a Mother’s Arms (17 page)

The boy lunged at him. As Gabe side-stepped, Luke’s momentum forced him to his knees. The sting of the fall must have goaded him even more, because he pushed to his feet and charged again. This time Gabe stood his ground. The blow knocked him back a step and he stumbled. As he regained his balance, Luke pummeled his middle with his fists. The boy packed a real punch, but Gabe didn’t stop him. Instead he held out his arms to make himself an easy target for the boy’s anger. Whatever Luke had to dish out, Gabe could take.

When he landed a particularly hard punch, Gabe grunted. A female gasp came from near the schoolhouse and he turned his head. Instead of Miss Lindstrom looking annoyed, he saw Cassie with her mouth agape. Her expression shifted from shock to outrage.

Not now…not when Luke had a full head of steam.

He shook his head to warn her away. At the same instant, Luke started to cry and shout while throwing punches. He had no awareness of his mother, no sense of anything except the feelings pouring out of him. He needed this release. Surely Cassie could see it. Babying him now would be the biggest mistake she could make. He gave her a hard stare, one full of warning, then focused on Luke. His mouth was still knotted and he’d worked up a sweat. He was walloping at Gabe’s torso, but the punches were losing power. Gabe spoke in the
voice he’d used as a sergeant. “Keep your fists up, O’Rourke. Protect your face.”

Luke seemed to come out of a fog. Gabe didn’t want him thinking too much, not until they’d crossed from enemies to allies. “Hit from your shoulder, not your elbow.”

Luke’s next blow landed smack in the middle of Gabe’s chest. He could have stayed still, but he backpedaled as if Luke had knocked him off balance.

The boy’s eyes popped wide. Surprised at his own strength, he lowered his fists.

“Fists up!” Gabe ordered as he came at him. “I’m going to swing. You duck, then come at me with your right fist.”

Gabe slowed the punch to nothing. Luke saw it coming, dipped his head and socked Gabe smack in the ribs that were already bruised. Air whooshed from Gabe’s lungs and he moaned.

Luke looked pleased. “Did that
hurt?
”

“Of course, it hurt!” Gabe wanted to shout with pride. “You’re strong.”

“I am?”

“Strong enough.” Gabe rubbed his side. “The trick is to be smart about it. You can flail around like a windmill, or you can anticipate the other man’s moves. I’m not hitting back, but Billy Drake will.”

Gabe thought of Cassie and risked a glance at the schoolhouse. He was expecting a quarrel but saw only waving grass. She’d left, though he knew that quarrel would be inevitable. His mind drifted to the line of her mouth, the way she looked in that prim dress…

Whomp!

The next thing Gabe knew, he was on his backside in the dirt. Luke looked shocked and little afraid. “Are you all right?”

Gabe laughed out loud, a real belly laugh, low and deep. As Luke’s eyes changed from fearful to proud, a grin spread across his face. Gabe stood and mock punched the boy’s arm. “You rascal!”

Luke’s face lit up. “I decked you!”

“You sure did, kid.”

“And you’re big!”

“Bigger than Billy.” Gabe stood and brushed off his trousers. He and Luke had matching patches of dirt on their backsides. It struck a chord, one that sounded low and deep and showed up in his voice. “You’ve got a lot more to learn, Luke, including the most important lesson of all.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s when
not
to fight.” Gabe deepened his voice. “Never swing first. Never swing at someone smaller than you. And never, ever hurt a woman.”

“Yes, sir.”

For the next hour, they wrestled like bears. By the time they finished, the grass had been trampled, Luke’s pants had holes in both knees, and Gabe imagined purple blotches on his ribs. It had been a long time since he’d burned off steam and it felt good, especially because Cassie had stoked the fire in his belly. He wanted to win her love and he intended to do it. Spent and happy, he and Luke dropped down to the grass and sat at right angles to each other, each leaning against the
trunk of the cottonwood. The sun had dropped in the sky, softening the hard blue of the day but not the knowledge that Cassie would read him the riot act when he showed up with Luke.

Gabe stared across the meadow. “My belly says it’s time for supper.”

“Mine, too.”

Gabe didn’t want the day to end, but he shoved to his feet. As he reached down to give Luke a hand, the boy looked up with a peculiar light in his eyes. “I wish my dad had been like you.”

Of all the blows Gabe had taken today, that one hurt the most. He answered with the deepest truth of the day. “If I had a son, I’d want him to be like you.”

The boy looked chagrined. “Even if he threw rocks sometimes?”

“
Especially
if he threw rocks.”

Staring straight ahead, they walked side by side to Cassie’s mercantile. Luke heaved a sigh. “My ma’s going to know I was fighting.”

“I’ll speak to her,” Gabe said. “If she’s going to be mad at anyone, it should be me.”

Gabe clamped his jaw. He didn’t like to quarrel, but some fights had to be fought.

C
assie pounded on the door to the parsonage. As soon as Thelma opened it, she blurted her only thought. “I need help.”

“Come in.” The older woman opened the door wide. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s Luke.”

“I figured.”

“And Gabe.”

Thelma closed the door with a click. “That figures, too.”

As Cassie followed her into the parlor, she told the older woman about this morning’s conversation with Gabe and the discovery that he’d gone against her wishes. When Luke hadn’t come home after school, she’d gone to see his teacher. She’d heard voices behind the schoolhouse, investigated and found Luke attacking Gabe like a rabid animal.

For an instant she’d been angry with Gabe, but then
she’d seen tears on Luke’s cheeks. Her son had gone into a blind rage and Gabe had been taking the punches. With his arms up and bent at the elbows, he’d been the picture of surrender, even sacrifice. She’d thought of Christ on the cross and had trembled with the knowledge that she was just like Luke, flailing blindly at life. Gabe had been right about her son needing to become a man, but she didn’t know what to do about it. With her business in dire straits, she felt guiltier than ever for her failings as a woman and a mother. That’s why she’d run to Thelma.

With her neck aching, Cassie knotted her hands in her lap. “I’m so confused.”

Thelma sat on an old cane rocker, picked up her knitting and set the chair in motion. As she lifted the needles, a pink baby blanket took shape and her lips quirked upward. “Are you angry with Gabe?”

“I want to be.”

“But you’re not?”

“How can I?” Needing an answer, Cassie glanced around the room. Everywhere she looked she saw photographs of the Halls and their three sons, each one as tall or taller than his father. “Gabe was right about Luke.”

Thelma twisted the yarn around her index finger. “How so?”

“He says Luke needs someone to push against.”

“That’s part of it.”

Cassie furrowed her brow. “What’s the rest?”

Thelma kept rocking. “The boy needs someone to show him what it means to be a strong man. He needs a father.”

And the sky is blue.
Cassie held in the retort. “I know that.”

Thelma stopped rocking and set the knitting in her lap. “So what’s stopping you from asking me for that lemon cake recipe? It’s Gabe’s favorite, you know.”

Cassie knew that, too. She thought of yesterday and how he’d set it aside to help her. This morning he’d rescued Luke and this afternoon he’d rescued him again. She owed him more than a cake.

Thelma picked up her knitting and went back to rocking. The wood creaked like old bones, but the gray-haired woman said nothing, leaving Cassie to ponder her question. Why not bake that cake for the man she loved? The answer hit as hard as Luke’s fists had pounded Gabe. “I can’t lean on anyone, Thelma. Not after what happened with Ryan.”

“I see.”

“Do you really?” Cassie lifted her arm to indicate the wealth of family pictures. “Reverend Hall’s a good man and a good father. Have you ever doubted that he loves you?”

The older woman held her head high. “Not once.”

“Did you ever wonder where he was at night? Or smell perfume on his collar?”

“Never.”

“Then you don’t
see
at all.” Cassie pushed to her feet. She wanted to leave, but she had nowhere to go except her empty store. Instead she paced to a window facing a field of tall grass. “Ryan hurt me, Thelma. I’ll never put myself in that position again.”

“Gabe’s not Ryan.”

“I
know
that.” Cassie scowled at the tall blades. “But people change. They leave. They let you down.”

“It’s true that I married well.” The needles clacked behind Cassie’s back. “But I’ve had my share of trouble. I know what it’s like to feel like someone’s let you down.”

Cassie turned in surprise. “Who?”

“Not Ben.”

“Your sons?” The middle boy had run off.

“Not in the ways that matter. Ben and the boys are human beings. They’ve hurt me on occasion and I’ve been disappointed in their decisions at times, but they’re human and I know that. I never expected perfection from any of them.”

As Cassie watched Thelma rocking steadily, she recalled the disappointments in her own life. Her mother’s death had been sudden and devastating. Her father had never been one to talk. After her mother’s passing, he’d pulled into himself like the tortoise at the Chicago Zoo she’d seen with Luke. Even Luke had disappointed her, though he had the excuse of youth.

“Who let you down?” she asked Thelma.

“The Lord did.”

Shivers went down Cassie’s spine.

“At least that’s what
I
thought.” Thelma gave a small laugh. “As things turned out, He knew what was best.”

Cassie turned back to the window, holding in a sigh as she stared at the empty meadow. “I’ve heard that before.”

“I imagine so.” Thelma’s knitting needles kept up a steady rhythm. “You don’t know this, but when the
boys were little, Ben and I were so poor I worried about feeding them. He’d been pastoring a church in Nebraska and we loved it, but the elder board changed hands. The new men voted us out.”

Cassie understood the sting of rejection. “That had to be hard.”

“It was.” Thelma rocked the chair harder. “For two years we lived like vagabonds. Ben preached wherever people would listen and we lived on offerings. When things ran short, he worked odd jobs. Those years were hard, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because they toughened us up. Now when Ben preaches about God’s mercy, he knows what it is. When I tell a woman I know how it feels to stretch a bag of flour, I really do.”

Cassie had known hardship in Chicago, both the pain of her marriage and the fear of doing without. After the divorce, she’d skipped meals so Luke could have all the milk he wanted. “I don’t feel that way about Chicago. I wish I’d never left.”

As Thelma lowered her hands, the pink yarn puddled in her lap. “You’ve lost your faith, haven’t you?”

Cassie felt as dry as sand. “I don’t ever think about it.” Except at night when she looked at the stars. Except when she was worried about her son. Except when she looked in the cash box and worried again. She forced herself to look at Thelma’s face and not the baby blanket. “I just want a roof over my head and food and clothing for Luke. That’s enough.”

“Oh, Cassie.”

“What?”

“
Things
will never be enough. In the blink of an eye, they can be lost forever. Only God is enough. That’s why I’m so worried about you.”

Cassie thought about what “enough” meant, both to herself and others. She’d taken Gabe’s “enough” when she’d run away. She’d taken her son’s “enough” when she’d chosen Ryan O’Rourke for a husband. Her neck hurt as she stared out the window. “No one took my ‘enough.’ I gave it away.”

“You made mistakes.”

“I did more than that.” Cassie had no patience for sugarcoating. She knew how it felt to be the victim of a mistake. After hitting her, Ryan had apologized with trinkets, but she’d still had the bruises. She couldn’t let Thelma excuse the wounds she herself had inflicted on others. She had to take responsibility.

“I ruined my life, Thelma. I hurt Gabe and Luke, too. I should never have left this town and I shouldn’t have married Ryan O’Rourke. I knew he drank and chased women, but I married him anyway because I wanted a part in a stage play.”

“That’s still a mistake,” Thelma insisted.

Cassie turned back to the window. A bee buzzed on the other side, hitting the pane over and over. It reminded her of Ryan’s hand slapping her face and she felt the sting of tears. She turned back to the room, but she couldn’t stop her feelings. They came out in a rush. “When Ryan hit me, I thought I deserved it. Now I’m a divorced woman and my son breaks windows.”

Thelma lowered the knitting. “Sit down, Cassie.”

“I’d rather stand.”

The old woman’s features hardened with determination. “That’s pride talking. It’s my house, and I asked you to sit.”

Cassie resented Thelma’s bossy manner, but she positioned herself on the divan. When the woman’s eyes shone like silver, Cassie thought of swords and tea sets, the playthings of children that turned them into adults.

“Your mother’s gone,” Thelma said. “But I’m here and I’m taking her place. Someone has to chase those buzzards away from you.”

Cassie thought of Rizpah. “What buzzards?”

“The ones that have you convinced God doesn’t care about you because you’ve made mistakes, that He doesn’t love you just as you are. Those thoughts are black and ugly and evil. God sent his son to die for you, Cassie. He knows all about your flaws. He knows about mine and Ben’s, Gabe’s and even Luke’s. You said you wanted enough. Here it is…God’s love. His forgiveness is all you need. He’s promised you eternal life. Lift up your eyes and you’ll get a taste of it now.”

Everything in Cassie cried out with need. “I want to believe you, Thelma. I do, but…”

“But what?”

“The town hates me. Maude’s spreading rumors. If business doesn’t pick up, I’ll have to leave. Where’s God now?”

“He’s right here.” Thelma gave her a hard stare. “He’s in Ben and me. He’s in the grass and the sky. He’s in the sun and the stars. You just have to look.”

Cassie thought of the stars bearing her name, the
queen chained to a chair with her neck bent and her spirit broken. What would it be like to look up and see glory instead of guilt?
Oh, Lord…Help me.
A cry pushed into her throat, but she choked it back.

Thelma bowed her head. “Father God, Cassie needs you right now. She’s tired and afraid and she’s lost her way…”

A lump pushed into Cassie’s throat, then tears welled. When Thelma asked the Lord to heal her wounds, the moisture spilled down her cheeks. Still praying, Thelma crossed from the rocker, dropped to her knees and took Cassie’s hands as she lowered her head. “Dear Jesus, you love your children. You love Cassie. Chase away the buzzards, Lord, every one of them. Amen.”

As Thelma looked up, Cassie thought of all the buzzards in her life. Guilt topped the list by a mile. Fear came in second and it still had its claws in her. If business didn’t improve, she’d be forced to leave town. Maude had been circling Cassie for weeks now, watching her struggle and waiting to pick the flesh from the bones of her store. That buzzard needed to be chased away and Cassie knew how to do it.

When she raised her face to Thelma, she felt a fire in her belly for a new challenge. “I’m going to have a sale.”

“That’s a fine idea,” Thelma replied.

Still holding the old woman’s hands, Cassie pushed to her feet and lifted Thelma with her. “I’ll mark everything half off. Let’s see if Maude can sabotage that!”

“She’ll try, I bet.”

“Let her.” Cassie thought of Gabe teaching Luke to defend himself and others. She’d just learned the same lesson. “I have a boy to feed and I intend to do it.”

Thelma’s eyes shone with pride. “Good for you, Cassie. When is the sale?”

“Saturday. I’ll advertise in Friday’s paper.” She had no money to spare, but her future depended on the size of the crowd. If she could support herself, she could stay. And if she stayed, she could bake that cake for Gabe. She could even invite him to supper. She took a breath. “Thelma?”

“Yes?”

“Could I have that recipe for lemon cake?”

“You sure can.” Thelma headed for the kitchen with Cassie behind her. As Cassie wrote down the ingredients, she thought about Gabe. Knowing his integrity, he’d come home with Luke and confront her. Instead of a quarrel, he’d get a supper invitation. She couldn’t do more until her business succeeded, but she hoped that day would come.

She finished copying the recipe, hugged Thelma goodbye and hurried to the grocer where she bought lemons. They’d been shipped from California and were expensive, but she wanted the cake to be perfect. If she hurried, she could have it baking when Luke and Gabe arrived at the apartment.

An hour later, Cassie had put the pan in the oven and her apartment smelled sweet. She’d just put her hands in the dishwater when Luke came through the door.

“Ma, I’m home. Can Gabe stay for supper?”

A deep voice came from the landing. “Hold your horses, son.”

Son…eating supper as a family.
Cassie’s heart thumped with longing. It was too soon to encourage Gabe. First the store had to succeed, but for tonight she could show her gratitude with a home-cooked meal. It would be plain, but Gabe had always liked simple food.

She reached for a dish towel and headed for the door. “Please, Gabe. Come in. You’re more than welcome for supper.”

He arched one brow. “I am?”

Her cheeks flushed. “I’d love for you to stay.”

He lingered in the doorway, giving her time to change her mind. Cassie flashed to another time he’d lingered…He’d come into her father’s mercantile and bought a set of spoons. He hadn’t needed the spoons at all. They’d been an excuse to chat with her. Smiling, she motioned for him to come inside. “Supper won’t be fancy, but we have dessert.”

His eyes twinkled. “I smell Thelma’s cake.”

“I hear it’s your favorite.” Her cheeks turned rosy.

He looked over her shoulder at Luke. “Go wash up. I need a word with your ma.”

“Yes, sir.”

Luke padded down the hall, leaving Cassie agape at his good manners. As Gabe stepped over the threshold, she closed the door. Turning, she looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry for what I said. You were right about Luke.”

“I didn’t intend to go against your word.”

“It’s all right.” She thought of the blows he’d taken. “You must be bruised. I’ve got liniment—”

“It’s nothing.”

“It was
something
to Luke.” She wanted to touch his
shirt sleeve but didn’t. “Thank you isn’t enough for what you did today, but it’s the best I can do.”

“It’s plenty.” He touched her cheek with his thumb. “Cassie, I—”

“Not yet,” she murmured.