Lauraine Snelling (15 page)

A
h, morning. Each the same, each so different. This one Lucas would probably call crisp. Mavis’s footsteps, usually silent, had crunched this morning, the hoarfrost thick and hard on the grass behind the house. Now down at the barn for a few moments she watched the hogs grunting and rooting through the slops. She always took time to watch the livestock. You could almost always tell their condition just by watching. There was certainly nothing wrong with the hogs.

Lucas came riding into the yard and tied up by the door.

Mavis walked out to meet him. “Did you talk to her or just leave the note?”

“She was out feeding her horse, so I didn’t need the note. She said she’d be delighted to go along into town with you this morning.”

A sudden thought caught her short. “Oh, I should have suggested she wear a skirt or dress, not pants.”

Lucas chuckled and strolled with her to the door. “I think she’ll figure that out. Chief caught several rabbits in his snares. You should see the vest Runs Like a Deer is making for Miss Lockwood. She’s made mittens too.”

“I wonder if she has ever made deerskin gloves. If she has, she might have some good suggestions for me.”

When Cassie drove her rickety old wagon into the yard a short time later, Mavis smiled, for the girl was dressed in the same lace-trimmed waist and black skirt. Mavis wondered if that was the girl’s only go-to-town outfit.

Lucas was hooking in the last of the tugs on Mavis’s wagon. He grinned, whipped off his hat, and executed a sweeping bow. “Miss Lockwood!”

Cassie tittered. “Mr. Engstrom. Good morning, Mrs. En—Mavis.” She climbed down from her wagon as Lucas tied her horses to the rail. When she clambered up into Mavis’s wagon, it was apparent she was not accustomed to clambering in skirts.

And off they went, Mavis and Cassie, to go shopping in Argus. “I’m so glad you could come.” Mavis flicked the lines for the team to pick up their pace. Why did she so enjoy this girl’s company? Cassie was charming in her own right, of course. She radiated sweetness, tenderness. But was the deeper reason simply that Cassie was Adam’s?

They talked of light things for a few minutes—the weather, the hard frost, the ice on the water barrel that morning. Quiet.

Then Cassie turned to look at her. “Something is bothering me.”

Mavis nodded. “Go ahead.”

“The thought of charging my shells on your account at the store. Do you suppose the owner will allow me to open an account? I can pay him the five dollars that I have and promise the remainder after the shoot. I have never had to borrow money or supplies from anyone before. It goes against all I believe.”

“I’m sure he will when he knows you own half the ranch.”

“Do we have to tell people that?”

“Why not? That is something to be proud of.”

“I know. I mean I am, but then they’ll want to know the whole story, and not only do I not know the whole story, I don’t think it is any of their business.”

“I can understand your feelings. But one thing you’ll learn about living out here is that in a small town everyone seems to know everyone else’s business. That’s just the way life is.”

“But you never even told your family about the contract.”

“And as I said, I’ll be paying for that decision for a long time. I won’t tell anyone your story. I’ll leave it up to you and how much you want to share. Is that okay?”

“But Lucas, I mean Mr. Engstrom—”

Mavis interrupted. “Just call them Lucas and Ransom, please. This Mr. and Mrs. manners business is getting ungainly.”

“All right. But what if Lucas already told that man in Hill City about the deed?”

“Well, in that case, your owning half the ranch will get out, but no one need know the rest of the story.”

Cassie nodded but Mavis could still see the worry lines on her forehead. “Cassie, this will be all right. You have a home on the ranch, and that means you are entitled to all the ranch has to offer, be it food for humans and animals, shelter, a place to put down roots. There is plenty of work for all of us, and we can trade for the things we need to buy. God has provided for us all these years. Why would He quit now?”

“My mother would say something like that too, but . . .”

“But what?”

“I don’t see that the show going bankrupt was taking care of us. So many people were suddenly without a job or knowing where their next meal was coming from. The debt to the banks not repaid.”

“They repossessed the show?”

“I guess. We didn’t stay around to find out.”

“But God provided for you all the way south. At least that’s what it seemed like to me when you told me what happened. Yes, things were rough, but you got here. You found us, and now you have a real home.”
Please, Lord, help me help her. Trusting you is never easy, but it’s sure worth the effort.

Cassie sent her a shy smile. “Thanks to you.”

“No, well, yes and no. Thanks be to Him, for He so wonderfully supplies our needs.”

The silence between the two lasted a good mile or so, supported by the rattle of the wagon and the singing of the wheels. The jingle of the harness sang counterpoint and the horses’ hooves kept the beat.

When she stopped the wagon next to the store, Mavis turned to Cassie. “Jason Daniel McKittrick owns this store; he’s been around ten or fifteen years. Everyone calls him JD. He knows more about what’s going on in Argus and the surrounding area than anyone. Sheriff Edgar McDougal runs a close second. They are both good men who are worth getting to know. I’ll introduce you. Oh, and if you need something he doesn’t have, if it can be gotten anywhere, JD will find a way.”

“Good to know.” Cassie had no better grace getting down from a wagon in skirts than she had climbing up. But she managed a full measure of modesty. Mavis led the way inside.

“Well, what a nice surprise.” The clean-shaven man with a shiny pate smiled wide, revealing a missing tooth on the lower jaw. “How you been, Mrs. Engstrom? You got time for a cup of coffee? I’ll tell Gertie to put on the coffeepot.”

“Thanks, JD, but we need to go see the Brandenburgs, too. I brought my order, and I have someone I want you to meet.” She turned to Cassie. “Miss Lockwood, meet Mr. McKittrick.”

“How do you do.” She smiled shyly.

He extended his hand, so she shook it. “Good to meet you, miss. Lockwood. Lockwood. Why does that name sound familiar?”

Mavis answered. “Her father, Adam Lockwood, used to live here, dug that mine in our hills with Ivar. He became world renowned as a shooter in one of the big Wild West shows.”

“And a wagon that came through town said Lockwood on the side. That’s where I’ve seen it recently. Was that you?”

Cassie nodded. “We camped one night over by the church.”

“I heard you had some big old buffalo.”

“We have three. The biggest one is George.”

“You don’t say!”

Mavis said, “Cassie’s father bought our ranchland with Ivar. Partners they were.”

“Then you should feel right at home here. What can I get for you?”

Mavis stepped in again. “Miss Lockwood would like to set up an account here, if you don’t mind, JD.”

“Why, of course.” He flipped open a ledger on the counter and turned to a new page. “Now, tell me how to spell your name. I like this book to be accurate.”

Cassie spelled it out. “Do you need my signature or anything?” When he shook his head, she added, “I can pay five dollars on it now. I need shells for my guns.”

“Right over here. You pick out what you need and I’ll write it up. No need to pay in advance. I know where you live.” His grin brought forth one from her.

Cassie chose what she needed and carried the boxes to the counter. “I need to practice for a shooting match coming up.”

“A shooting match? When? Where?” He turned to Mavis. “Why, this could be the best thing that happened to Argus since the railroad came through.” He paused a moment. “Don’t shooters usually have sponsors?”

“Some do.”

“Well, little lady, I’d be right proud to be one of your sponsors. I’ll give you half price on all your shells.”

Mavis turned to see Cassie’s mouth drop open. She couldn’t stop the chuckle. “Thanks, JD. We’ll make sure she takes you up on it. Come on, Cassie. If we’re going to be home before Gretchen, we need to get moving.” She turned back to the proprietor. “We’re having an informal demonstration at the ranch on Sunday. Why don’t you and Gertie come for dinner and our entertainment?”

“Why, thank you, Mrs. Engstrom. I’ll tell Gertie about your invitation. And I’ll have your order ready in about half an hour.”

Cassie led the way out. “We could just leave the horses tied up and walk over there. It’s not far.”

“Not carrying the squash I brought for them.”

Cassie glanced in the back of the wagon at the crate of squash in huge pieces. “That’s all from one squash?”

“No. I canned some and I’m drying some in the oven. It’s hard to keep the oven from getting too hot. I’ll send some up to Runs Like a Deer. The Indians used to dry squash and pumpkin too.”

Cassie untied the horses as Mavis climbed in, but she walked alongside. Was the girl self-conscious about wearing skirts? It would seem so.

The Brandenburgs were overjoyed to see them and laughed at the chunks of squash.

“Well, I never saw one that big,” Mrs. Brandenburg said. “Ours were teeny and only a couple made it. It could have been the time those cows got out at the stockyard and ate all the squash near to the ground. I suppose that could have caused our lack.” The two chuckled. “It’s a good thing they didn’t get all the corn and the potatoes. Those came back just fine.”

Mavis led as they followed the couple into the kitchen. Cassie was grinning like a little girl at her first tea party.

Mrs. Brandenburg turned and gave Cassie a hug. “I am just so happy you live near us. God answered our prayers for your safety, and now I get to teach you to cook, like I said I would.”

“Mavis is helping me too. She showed me how to clean out elk intestines to make sausage a couple of days ago. I figure if someone can do that, they can do anything.”

“Sit down, sit down. These cookies just came out of the oven. The coffee will be ready in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

Mavis sat, but she perched on the edge of the chair. “We can’t stay long. Cassie promised Gretchen she’d show off Wind Dancer’s tricks this afternoon.”

“Why, you know she did some of those right out in the church field. Little Lisbet is still talking about it. She pointed you out at church last Sunday as that pretty lady who made her beautiful horse bow. I think she spoke to you, Cassie. The little girl with the lisp.”

“Oh dear!” Cassie groaned. “I was looking for her, but I didn’t see her.”

“They had to leave early.” She set a plate of cookies on the table. “Help yourselves. The coffee is almost hot.”

Mrs. Brandenburg did love to talk, so Mavis sat back and let her. Mostly she just watched, rather bemused. Cassie had cast upon Mrs. Brandenburg the same spell she had cast upon Mavis, and Mrs. Brandenburg had never loved Adam the way Mavis had. So her instincts were good; Cassie was indeed a sweet and sensitive child, along with being a gutsy young woman.

By the time they left, Cassie had a basket with two dish towels, two jars of jam, a loaf of bread, and a small crock of butter. And more potatoes. The Brandenburgs accepted an invitation to dinner and the entertainment on Sunday.

“This is turning into quite a party,” Mavis announced after they had loaded all their supplies, picked up the mail, and left the store. “What a great time we will have.” A cloud crossed her thoughts, literally and figuratively. “I do hope it doesn’t rain.”

After supper Mavis read Jesse’s letter to her family.

“Dear Mor,

Well, that was a shock. How did you and Pa ever keep something like that a secret? I don’t ever remember any mention of an Adam Lockwood when Pa would talk about the early days, but then, when I thought about it, most of his stories didn’t go back that far. Other than he found the land and gold. I wish he were still here so I could ask him questions. I am sure the others are feeling the same way. I have a feeling, though you didn’t say so, that Ransom and Lucas are really upset, are angry over this. Like everything else, this too shall pass. No matter. I am glad and grateful this seems to be working out. God has amazing ways of making that happen, has He not?

I will write more at another time. Please tell everyone that I love them and look forward to seeing you all again.

Your happily beleaguered son,
Jesse”

Mavis finished the letter with a smile. Leave it to Jesse, her lover of words and ideas son. Beleaguered was an excellent word for them all. Or maybe not.

“Goes to prove he’s forgotten this ranch is part his too.”

“Come on, Ransom, all Jesse thinks about is being a doctor. He doesn’t care about living here again.”

“That’s enough. You both have to admit things are going well here. The work is getting done.” Would Ransom ever give in?

S
he tapped Wind Dancer’s knee.

“Oh, look.” Gretchen turned to her mother. “Isn’t he just the prettiest horse you ever saw? And so smart.”

The Engstroms were lined up along the rail of the small corral, watching Wind Dancer go through his paces. No one was laughing harder or grinning more broadly than Gretchen’s friend Jenna, who was perched with Gretchen and Mavis on the top rail. Lucas and Ransom were leaning against the rails, their elbows draped over. At least on the Engstrom ranch, Wind Dancer was a big hit.

Cassie laughed along with Gretchen. “He’s pretty smart, all right. Wind Dancer, how many legs do you have?”

The horse nodded one, two, three, and paused. He shook his head and nodded one more time.

“He’s teasing you.” Jenna’s eyes sparkled.

“That he is.” Cassie rubbed his neck, right behind his ears. She whistled for Othello, who came bounding across the corral and leaped up onto the horse’s rump. Wind Dancer cantered around the circle, stopped next to Cassie, and bowed again. Othello barked twice and leaped to the ground.

She debated saddling him up for trick riding and decided not to. Instead, she sent him cantering around the ring again, signaled for him to turn and go back, stop, back up, and go forward at a trot. When he returned to her side, she gave him a chunk of carrot and more pats. “Gretchen, do you want to come help me, please?”

Gretchen scrambled down from the top rail and walked to the center. “Wind Dancer, this is Gretchen. How do you greet cute little girls?” Wind Dancer nuzzled her cheek and then licked it. Gretchen giggled. “Do you like to be kissed by cute girls?” Wind Dancer nodded and stuck out his nose. Gretchen kissed the soft spot right between his nostrils, and the horse shook all over.

Mavis almost fell off the fence laughing. Jenna clapped and laughed and hooted along with Lucas.

“You are quite the dandy, aren’t you?”

He shook his head and turned his neck to look the other way.

“I’m sorry. Did I insult you?”

He nodded and continued to look the other way.

“Will you forgive me?”

He nodded and wuffled her cheek, then blew, spitting all over her.

Cassie mopped her face. “Well, I guess I deserved that.”

Wind Dancer nodded, put his head down so she could rub the top of his head, and then leaned closer to her.

“All is forgiven?”

Another nod.

“Shall we say good-bye?”

He nodded and the two of them bowed together, Othello joining in to do the same.

The applause and laughter made her feel better than she had for a long time. At least she didn’t have to shoot the apple off Othello’s head. If she had her way, she’d never do that part of the act again. She and her horse strolled over to the fence.

“Does he do more tricks?”

“Yes, but he needs to be saddled for the riding exhibition, and I’ve not practiced for so long that I won’t do it now.” Wind Dancer draped his head over her shoulder, and she stroked his cheek.

Gretchen patted his shoulder. “That’s the first time I’ve been kissed by a horse.” She grinned at Lucas. “Remember when I taught my pony to shake hands?” The others nodded. “I didn’t think he was ever going to figure it out.”

“He figured it out all right; he just kept waiting for more sugar. About rotted his teeth out.”

Cassie leaned against her horse’s shoulder. Ever since the journey began, she’d not had the time to spend with him, or George, like she did before.
Before.
Such a simple word that had grown complex beyond understanding.

The new corral up at the cabin was quite small. Wind Dancer would have trouble hitting his stride, but she could probably practice their riding routine there, away from curious eyes. Eyes that might set her on edge.
Now, that was stupid,
she told herself. All those years in front of audiences, some of whom were not overly receptive or friendly. When the unusual happened and she didn’t hit her mark, sometimes she received groans, and other times some mean-spirited person would boo and yell catcalls. Her father always laughed and said,
“Poor sucker, doesn’t know quality when he sees it.”
Then he’d get Cassie laughing too and all would be right with her world.

If only her father were there to enjoy his dream land. She turned when Mavis said something, making sure her face wore a smile. “Sorry, I missed that.”

“How could you do this in a big arena? No one would be able to hear you.”

“We did this only for smaller audiences. Sometimes a person or organization would hire us for an afternoon party or an evening event.”

“Us, meaning you and your father, not the whole cast?” Lucas asked.

“Right. He and my mother used to do a routine but without horses. When we realized Wind Dancer would pick up tricks so quickly, we added the other things. He’s kissed lots of pretty ladies and been a clown for little children.

“After my father died, I added to the routine and someone from the show would go with me. I had an assistant for my shooting act, and he would go along for other events.”
I wonder if Joe got another job in a Wild West show or had to find something else.
She thought of some of her friends from the show every once in a while—so many good people cast adrift. If only there were a way to contact some of them.

“Well, what were Chief and Micah doing today?” Mavis asked.

“Sawing and splitting wood. Chief found a dead tree dry enough to burn, and they dragged that in. I’m sure Runs Like a Deer is softening that deer hide. And she will probably get working on the elk hides too. I never realized before that soft leather takes a lot of work.”

“Did you know that Indian squaws used to chew the hides to soften them?” Lucas added.

Cassie made a face. “That would be far worse than cleaning intestines.” She shuddered. “I don’t see how they could do that.”

“Speaking of which,” Mavis said, “tomorrow we’ll be cutting up the elk, and grinding sausage is part of that. Would you and Runs Like a Deer like to come down to help?”

“Of course. Well, the show is over. Say good-bye, Wind Dancer.”

He extended one front leg and lowered his head, nose nearly touching the ground. When he straightened he shook his head, setting his mane and forelock to flying. Cassie led him out of the corral past Ransom, who almost nodded but never cracked a smile.
Oh well
, she thought,
can’t win ’em all.
She ignored the little needle of sadness that tried to pierce her joy.

The next morning after breakfast the men headed out to the log they were sawing into stove or fireplace lengths, and the two women walked down the hill. Cassie stopped to scratch George’s ears. Most places on his body were covered with such a dense coat that he’d never feel the pleasure. Ears and nose were about it. He rumbled deep in his throat, his thank-you sign. When Wind Dancer trotted up, she patted him a bit and then backed away.

“Sorry, no treats. As soon as we have some extra money, I’ll buy you some sugar cubes, but now there’s nothing.” She was hoarding the bit of grain they had left for when the cold hit. At least her animals would have hay through the winter, and for that she was deeply grateful.

After making a detour to check on some plants she had seen, Runs Like a Deer came striding down the track, so Cassie walked out to join her. “Your leg seems to be working better all the time.”

The woman smiled. “Doesn’t hurt much either.”

They strolled over to the back door. Cassie was learning that with all the work around the ranch, she couldn’t start out like a house afire, for by day’s end she’d be weary, weary, weary. Runs Like a Deer had already mastered the art of pacing herself.

“Good morning,” Mavis called when they knocked. “My goodness, just come on in; you needn’t knock.”

“Are we early?”

“No, the men are already cutting up the larger elk. We have tubs to brine the cuts we’ll be smoking. Lucas will bring up the meat that needs to be ground up for sausage.” She nodded toward a row of tins on the table. “Those are the spices and herbs we add, along with lard from the hogs. Elk have so little fat in the meat that we have to add some for good sausage.”

Cassie took it all in, not really understanding what all was meant, but by later that afternoon, with the sausage ropes hanging in the smokehouse, she knew one thing for sure. Her arms and shoulders were on fire. When the sausages were done, they’d ground still more meat, seasoned it, and formed it into elk patties that were now layered in a crock and covered with lard.

Runs Like a Deer paused to hone the big knife and then sliced yet more elk meat into thin strips. Some of it they would take to the cabin to dry at the campfire in front of the wagon and in front of their fireplace. Mavis set up racks in her fireplace to do the same. An elk provided an awful lot of jerked meat, along with all that was smoked or eaten fresh. The weather wasn’t quite cold enough to freeze more of the fresh meat.

They sat down around the table for a cup of coffee before leaving for the cabin. Mavis served them each a piece of apple cake with applesauce over it, while Runs Like a Deer poured the coffee.

“We’ll do this again tomorrow for the other elk. I know you don’t have a cellar to store food, so we’ll put it all out in ours and you help yourself.”

“So that is something else we’ll need to build?”

“Before we built this house, I planned to dig a cave back into the hill for a cellar. Ivar said maybe he could loosen things up with just a teeny touch of dynamite. Ivar and Adam had to use dynamite in the mine. That used to frighten me to pieces to hear they’d been blasting. They would just laugh it off and say, ‘That’s part of mining.’ They claimed they used only small charges, but how small is small?” She stirred some cream into her coffee. “I never trusted that mine, and then when part of it caved in, I was grateful beyond belief when they said they weren’t going back in.”

Cassie listened, fascinated by this glimpse into her father’s life. “Did they tell you about being trapped?”

“No, not until much later. One night after Ivar had had too much to drink, he told me the story. This was before Gretchen was born. By then Lockwood and Birdwing had been gone for years. When I questioned him later—he was sober by then—he barely answered my questions and said we’d never talk of it again. He told the children from the time they could ride that the mine was off limits and going in there or even near it would bring on a whipping like they’d never seen. They believed him until one day they brought in a gold nugget that they said they’d found in the creek near the mine, but I have a feeling they’d been playing in the mouth of the mine. They couldn’t go far in because Ivar had walled it off. He never tried to clean out the shaft and rebuild the supports, and now that’s what Ransom wants to do.”

“But Lucas and everyone else say there’s no gold left. Who’s right?”

“Apparently sometimes a vein is broken off by a fault, and part of it gets shifted over. The idea, they said, was to find where the vein picked up again. So they hired specialists to come and inspect the mine after their vein ran out, to learn where the rest of the vein had shifted to, and their reports all said the vein petered out. There would be no more gold coming from that mine.” Mavis took a sip of her coffee. “I wish Ivar had blown up the entrance like he so often threatened to do. I have no idea why he didn’t.”

“Will we have to blast a hole for a cellar?”

“Probably. But it would be worth it if you decide to continue to live up there. Get through this winter first, and then we’ll see what God has in mind.”

Cassie nodded, her mind a tornado of unanswered questions. One kept coming to the forefront. “I remember you said my father won part of the show. What did you mean by that?”

“It’s one of those hard-to-believe stories, but I’ll gladly tell you. Your father loved adventure. You should have heard some of his stories, and he wasn’t that old yet. One thing he enjoyed was playing cards.”

“For money?”

“Oh yes. There was more risk in that, you see. He and Ivar would stop by the saloon, and they’d both play for a while, but when the stakes got too high, Ivar would lay down his cards and turn into an onlooker. One night there was a new man in town. They got into a game and managed to come out even that night. That man’s name was Jason Talbot, and over a couple nights’ playing, the three of them got to be friends. In fact, they took Mr. Talbot out to the mine to look around. They’d already lost the vein, but the accident had yet to happen.”