Linda Ford (20 page)

She marched to the window and stared out, her shoulders drawn up with tension.

He waited, hoping to see the tension soften. “Cassie, I—”

She spun around, her features iron-hard. “I only let you help because of the children. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate all you’ve done but I think I’ve made it clear that I don’t need or want anything more. This—” Her hand circled to indicate the room. “Is all I need. My own business. Independence.”

The back of Roper’s eyes burned. His throat tightened so he knew he couldn’t force out a word. Not that he had anything more to say. She’d left no doubt about what the future held for them.

All he could do was nod and stride from the house. His steps didn’t slow until he found escape and solitude by the river. He sat on the damp sand, his legs out before him like poles clad in denim. He stared at his boots and slowly his mind began to function.

The boots said it all. He was a cowboy. He belonged in a saddle behind a herd of cows. And Eddie could use his help. It was time to return to what he did best.

* * *

Cassie closed her eyes and held on to the window frame as wave after wave of shock lapped through her. Roper had offered to stay—to continue their business arrangement.

Like he said, they had done well together.

But to continue without the children made her heart clench until it hurt to even breathe. She guessed he meant they would marry as they had discussed. But wasn’t marriage the ultimate form of control?

It wasn’t for Linette and Eddie. Surely they were the rare exception. They loved each other enough to sacrifice, to allow the other to follow their heart.

On further consideration, marriage wasn’t the ultimate form of control.

Love was.

Or was it the ultimate form of surrender?

What was the difference?

She moaned as her thoughts twisted and knotted with questions she couldn’t answer.

Why was she even thinking such foolishness? It wasn’t as if Roper had suggested he loved her. And she wasn’t ready to make that ultimate sacrifice. No, sir. She finally had her freedom and meant to keep it.

Her mind was made up, but rather than peace she knew only the sensation of her insides rushing out the soles of her feet, leaving her painfully empty.

“Cassie, Cassie.” The shrillness of Neil’s cry jerked her from the quagmire of her musings and she rushed outside.

Neil grabbed her hand. “Come quick. Something’s wrong with Uncle Jack.”

Forgetting all else, she lifted her skirts and raced across the yard to where Jack lay on the ground, the children clustered around him. She knelt beside the man who was curled into a fetal position, his teeth chattering.

“I’m so cold,” he choked out.

“Daisy, get a blanket. Neil, bring a drink of water. Billy, take Pansy over to the table and keep her occupied.”

The children scattered to obey.

“Now tell me what happened,” she said to Jack.

“I tried to stand but my legs refused to work.” Saying those few words left him panting.

“Have you been sick before?”

He shook his head.

Daisy returned with the blanket and they helped Jack sit up. He drank the water Neil brought.

“I’m feeling better now.” He smiled weakly, but he made no attempt to get to his feet.

“Where’s Roper?” She regretted the words as soon as she spoke them. Hadn’t she assured him she could manage on her own? And yet the first time she had a problem she looked for him.

“I’ll find him,” Neil said, and he took off before Cassie could say not to bother.

Not that she would have. Jack’s weakness worried her.

Would it mean the children stayed longer? Wouldn’t Roper then stay, as well?

Angry with herself for such selfish thoughts she turned back to Jack.

“I’m hot.” He tossed aside the blanket and his face grew bright pink.

“What’s going on?”

She’d never been so happy to hear Roper’s voice.

“He’s sick.” Her answer was unnecessary considering the way Jack mumbled and plucked at the edge of the blanket.

Roper knelt beside her. “We need to get his fever down. Get some tepid water and a cloth. We’ll sponge him.”

She rushed to do his bidding. Daisy shepherded the children to the table where they sat watching. Their fear was palpable. Cassie paused in her haste to get water and cloths.

“We’ll do everything we can to help him,” she assured the children.

“If he dies we have no one,” Billy said.

Daisy took his hand. “We have each other.”

“And you have us,” Cassie added, then returned to Jack’s side with the supplies.

It didn’t take any effort to put aside her selfish thoughts and concentrate on Jack for the next few hours.

His fever broke and he was able to sit up, though obviously weak and shaken.

Roper pulled her aside. “He’s not well. Sleeping on the ground, living like this is not doing him any good. I’m taking him to the ranch to recover.”

“I expect that’s for the best.”

“I’ll take the kids, too.”

“But—”

“They need to be with him and no doubt he’ll rest better if they are nearby. I’ll be leaving as soon as I hitch up the wagon.”

She nodded, feeling the blood drain from her face.

“Of course. I’ll help the children get ready.” Her voice sounded like she’d ground the words with shards of glass. How long would he be gone? She spun around and announced Roper’s decision to the anxious children hovering nearby.

Roper soon drove the wagon to the side of the house, his horse tied at the back. He helped Jack into the back where he’d made a pallet of his bedding.

Cassie stood beside the children. “Your uncle will be well cared for at the ranch.” The words she wanted to say stuck in her throat.
I don’t want you to leave. I thought we’d have a few more days together. Please don’t go back with your uncle without a proper goodbye.

Roper carefully arranged the children’s belongings beside his own. “Ready?”

No one moved.

“Your uncle is waiting.”

Daisy turned to Cassie. “We have to go.” A sob escaped and she threw herself into Cassie’s arms.

Cassie blinked back tears as she hugged Daisy and wished her all the best. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

Daisy nodded as she stepped back.

Cassie hugged each of the boys, then scooped Pansy into her arms. It took every ounce of self-control not to hug the child hard enough to make her squirm. She kissed the chubby cheeks several times, then handed the little one to Daisy who waited, teary eyed, in the wagon.

Cassie swallowed hard and turned to Roper.

He twisted his hat round and round in his hands. “I’m going back to my job with Eddie.”

Each word dropped into Cassie’s heart like a heavy river rock. Then the meaning of them grew clear. “You’re not coming back?”

“Like you said, our agreement is over.”

She’d said the words without truly understanding the full consequence of them. He was leaving. She crossed her arms across her chest and pulled them tight. “I guess this is goodbye, then.”

He nodded. “It’s time to move on.”

She groped from one heartbeat to the next. Tried to recall how to breathe in and out. Forced words from her starved lungs. “Goodbye and again, thank you.”

He touched the brim of his hat. “Goodbye, Cassie. If you ever need anything—”

“I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t move as he drove away. Long after the wagon disappeared from sight down the long, dusty trail she stared after them.

Then she shook herself into motion and headed for the house. Yes, she’d be fine. She’d stand alone and independent.

She stood in the middle of her new house. She hadn’t expected them to leave so soon, hadn’t expected him to go so quickly, but there was nothing to make him consider staying. She’d seen to that.

She forced her attention back to her surroundings. Everything was perfect. He’d added a few special touches. He’d built a platform for her bed.

Her gaze lighted on the little shelf with the vase of pretty flowers. What kind of business agreement involved flowers? She grabbed the vase and headed to the door intent on pitching the contents into the woods, but she made only three steps before she stopped and slowly retraced her steps. No point in throwing the flowers out while they were still so bright and cheerful.

She set the vase back on the shelf and considered the room again. She had the fabric for curtains. Time to get them made.

Work would put her thoughts to right again. Work was the antidote to foolish emotions.

Chapter Fifteen

R
oper concentrated on the road ahead of him. He needed to get Jack to a proper bed and proper care as soon as possible. The man looked ready to pack it in. What would the children do if their uncle died?

He and Cassie would give them a home.

But he would never wish ill on anyone for his own benefit.

He ached at the idea of leaving Cassie. But it was for the best. The sooner he left the easier it would be for them both. With the children gone, Lane would no longer see Roper’s presence as a necessary evil.

He couldn’t even think it without his insides churning.

If she’d given him even a hint that she wished to continue this agreement—

But her dismay over his suggestion to do so couldn’t have been plainer.

Thankfully they reached the ranch and his thoughts were consumed with getting Jack into bed. Linette took over immediately, ordering Eddie and Roper about as they settled Jack and got the children moved into two nearby bedrooms.

“I’ll take the kids out and show them around,” Roper said when Linette seemed satisfied that everyone was organized.

“We’ll talk later,” Linette warned.

Roper didn’t answer. He had no desire to face a bunch of questions about Cassie and guessed that’s what Linette had in mind.

He took the children down the hill. The first place he stopped was the little log cabin. “That’s where Cassie and Mrs. Gardiner and Grady spent the winter.” He opened the door. Daisy and Neil stepped inside.

“It’s nice,” Neil decided. “We could live here.”

Daisy looked about. “Uncle Jack lives in Toronto.” She sighed heavily. “We’ll make the best of things.”

“Good choice.” Roper drew them outside and turned them toward the cookhouse. “Cookie will want to meet you.”

She’d have his hide and skimp on his share of the cinnamon rolls if he passed by without taking the children in.

He led them into the cookhouse. “Cookie, these are the Locke children Cassie and I have been looking after.”

Cookie lifted her hands in a jubilant gesture. “Well, just look at you. It’s a joy to have more children on the ranch.”

He introduced each child, relieved when Cookie spared them her normal hearty slap on the back.

“Good to see you.” She sent him forward with her pat. “But where’s Cassie?”

“Back in Edendale. She’s got a business to run.”

Cookie scowled at him. “And you just left her there? By herself? Roper Jones, you’re about as dumb as a hammer.”

“You got no call to judge me.”

Cookie sighed loudly. “That’s the saddest part of all. You don’t even know what you’ve done.”

“I ain’t done nothing but help her. Help these kids and bring their sick uncle here so he can get better.” He’d lived up to his personal expectations, making sure everyone was happy and taken care of.

Cookie planted her hands on her hips and gave him a look fit to scald him. “Humph. Where does Cassie figure in all this?”

“Cassie is doing exactly what she wants to do.”

“Men are so blind. Except for my Bertie, and he’s one in a million.” She leaned close. Roper dared not back up or show the least fear. “Have you ever taken a real good look at Cassie?”

“Of course I have.” He could describe her in great detail if Cookie cared to hear it. From her shiny black hair that never quite stayed tidy to her brown eyes that could be so warm and yet sometimes so cold, to the way she hustled about, her hands and feet flying as she worked.

“I beg to differ. If you ever looked close you would see a woman aching to be loved. You don’t deserve tea and treats but the children do.” Her gruff voice grew cheery only as she served the children.

By the time they’d enjoyed milk, tea and Cookie’s famous cinnamon rolls, Cookie acted as if she’d forgiven Roper for being so blind and stupid.

He stood. “Come on, kids. I’ll show you the barns and pens. You might even catch sight of some baby kittens.”

Cookie followed him to the door and grabbed his arm to hold him back. “If you hurt my friend Cassie you will answer to me.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I’ve done nothing.”

“Likely that’s the problem.” She pushed him out the door.

Roper hurried away, taking the children on a tour of the barn, letting them explore the hayloft in a fruitless search for kittens. They visited the pigs, watched the colts romping and stood on the bridge catching flashes of silver minnows in the water of the creek. He talked to the children, answered their questions, pointed out things for them to look at and tried to forget Cookie’s words.

Likely that was the problem.
But he had spoken to Cassie, had said it all.

Or had he? Had he been honest about all that was in his heart?

Would it have made a difference except to scare her even more?

* * *

Over the next few days Cassie moved everything from the shack to the house. She decided to leave the shack as it was. Perhaps with what she’d learned from watching Roper she could build solid walls and a roof and use it for storage or a chicken house. She would ask Petey about getting hens from the fort.

She made meals for the men, serving them at her new table indoors. She fashioned curtains for the window.

And she congratulated herself on being an independent young woman. She ignored the inner restlessness that made her feel she worked for a task master as unkind as her grandfather had been.

Lane came by every evening, even though she had been less than welcoming since he’d the gall to steal a kiss right in front of the washstand as she did dishes. It had taken every ounce of her self-control to keep from slapping his face.

She shouldn’t have curtailed her instincts because he now seemed to think he’d gained some sort of favor with that stolen, unwelcome kiss.

“Cassie, leave the dishes and sit with me.”

“I like to get them done before the food hardens on them.” She continued to wash each plate and set it in a pan to drain.

Lane failed to hear the hint in her voice. “Aw, come on, Cassie. I don’t enjoy watching you work all the time.”

She handed him a towel. “If it bothers you so much then dry the dishes.”

He looked like she’d suggested his mother was evil. “That’s not what I meant.”

She guessed as much. “Who washes and dries dishes at your place?”

“I do.” It obviously pained him to admit it. “But when I get married, my wife will.”

She practically boiled at the way he studied her, all possessive as if he already had her in the kitchen with a towel in hand. “Sooner or later the dishes have to be done. I prefer to make it sooner.”

He tossed the towel aside and crossed his arms. His disfavor was evident. “They can wait.”

Her temperature climbed dangerously. What right did he have to expect anything from her? None whatsoever. And if he thought stealing a kiss gave him the right... Well, he had better give the idea another thought.

Each dish bore the brunt of her anger. By the time they were washed and dried, she was about ready to blow a cork.

Lane stood up from his impatient wait. “Finally. Now let’s go for a walk.”

She faced him, keeping a safe distance away lest she smack him, as she was so tempted to do. “Lane, you are a good customer and I appreciate that.”

He reached for her arm, grinning widely. “I hope to be more.”

She sidestepped him. “I know you do. But you are mistaken in thinking that’s what I want.”

“But of course—”

Her eyelids flashed red. How dare he assume he knew what she wanted? “This is my life.” She waved her arm about the room. “The one I want. It’s what I’ve dreamed of for a very long time.”

Clearly the idea didn’t suit him. His lip curled. “You can’t be serious. My house is far better.”

“Lane, I’m not interested in running your house. Or any man’s.” Unless it was Roper’s, an insistent voice protested. She pushed aside the idea. Roper wasn’t interested in anything but a business agreement. And she didn’t want a continuing business deal.

Then what did she want?

“I want nothing more than to be independent.”

His mouth tightened in disapproval. “You will live to regret this decision.” He grabbed his hat and reached the door in three strides, slamming it after him.

“I guess I lost a paying customer,” Cassie murmured but she felt not one hint of regret.

She turned full circle, examining the room. It was empty. So empty.

And she was alone. So alone.

The walls crowded her. With a cry of protest she raced to her room and sank to the bed.
Oh, God, help me. I have my heart’s desire so why am I so unsettled?

Her Bible sat on the nearby shelf. She hadn’t read it since Roper and the children left. With desperate fingers she picked it up, stroked the cover, remembering Roper’s strong hands on the leather. She opened the cover to the page with her babies’ deaths. A familiar pain snaked up her insides but it lacked the deadly power of the past. She’d been at peace about her loss since Roper held her and comforted her. She flipped the pages to Genesis and could hear Roper’s voice reading the words. Guilt flowed through her veins that it was Roper she saw in each line ...not God. Utter loneliness consumed her. This Holy Bible was her only companion, her only comfort. She turned the pages past Genesis, unable to bear the memory of Roper reading, Roper holding her hand as he prayed, Roper—

She flipped the pages to the Psalms. She’d heard them read at funerals. Seemed a fitting place to rest her eyes. Psalm 1.
Blessed is the man.
Guess that didn’t fit her. She was neither man nor blessed.
He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water.
She sighed. She had all she wanted yet she felt neither blessed nor planted. But because she had nothing else she wanted to do and because doing so brought Roper closer, she continued reading the Bible.

As the days passed, she spent more and more time pursuing that activity. Her soul found healing and peace, even though a constant loneliness caused her heart to ache.

The days passed woodenly as Cassie fed a growing number of men. Some were passing through to the north in search of land. Others came to scout homestead possibilities close to Edendale. But mostly they were men conducting business with the local ranchers. All of them were happy to pay for a hot meal.

As usual, one morning several days later, Cassie headed to Macpherson’s with her latest batch of bread. It sold well, as did her biscuits. All in all, she had a very successful business venture.

A wagon stood in front of the store. A very tired-looking young woman slumped on the seat. Cassie watched a moment wondering if the woman would fall forward but she rocked back with a groan, her eyes closed so she didn’t see Cassie.

Cassie hurried onward and slipped into the store. A young man spoke to Macpherson, pacing before the counter as he talked. Not wanting to interrupt, she hung back.

“I don’t think my customers would like having a sick woman here,” Macpherson said, turning to see who had entered. “This is Mrs. Godfrey. She might be able to assist you.”

Cassie waited, not about to commit herself to anything until she knew what it was.

“This young man says his wife is too ill to travel any farther. Wants to find a place where she can rest.” He turned to the young man. “Mrs. Godfrey operates a dining place. She has a nice little house.”

Both men turned toward her.

“Ma’am, I’m Claude Morton. My wife, Bonnie, is unable to continue. She’s deathly ill. If you could help?”

Cassie had seen the woman and knew it to be true. But she wasn’t certain she wanted to share her quarters. Not with strangers. She thought of how crowded she and the children had been in the shack—

The shack. “I can offer primitive accommodations. If you don’t mind them, you’re welcome to bunk there.”

“Ma’am, any place dry where my wife could rest.”

She turned the bread over to Mr. Macpherson then led the man outside. “Drive around the store. You’ll see the place.”

The man wasted no time in following her directions and stopped near the shack as she indicated. She showed him inside the little building.

“This is fine. Just fine. Hang on, Bonnie, dear. I’ll have you settled in a moment.” He trotted to the back of the wagon and pulled a bedroll from under the canvas tarpaulin. With barely a nod as he passed Cassie, he spread the blankets on the floor, then dashed back. “Come, Bonnie.”

She tumbled into his arms.

He staggered under her weight, then carried her gingerly to the shack and made sure she was comfortable.

Cassie’s eyes stung at the tenderness between them. She wanted that kind of caring. Her mind hearkened back to the comfort Roper had offered her again and again.

She spun away. She had her independence. It had to be enough. “There’s lots of wood in the stack. And you’re more than welcome to join the others for a meal.”

Bonnie tried to raise her head. “Thank you so much for your kindness.” She panted by the time she finished the few words.

The poor woman. “You rest. Get strong.” She spoke to Claude. “If you need anything just holler.” He barely acknowledged her, his attention focused on his wife, his face wreathed in such concern Cassie’s eyes stung. She slipped away.

For three days, Bonnie lay on her blankets. Cassie began to fear she would die. Claude walked around in a cloud of misery yet he kept her wood box filled, took out ashes, carried in water and after the second day began to help serve the meal. Just as Roper had done.

Cassie appreciated the help but it made her miss Roper with an ache that tempted her to lie down beside Bonnie and wallow in misery.

On the fourth day, Bonnie got up. She struggled into the house and Cassie made her tea.

“It’s good to see you feeling stronger.”

“I’m ashamed of how weak I was. Poor Claude was so worried yet he never once complained. Even though it means we still haven’t found a place to settle.”

Cassie hoped they’d find a place soon and get a solid cabin built before the snow came. How would Bonnie survive the winter?

Bonnie gave a weak smile. “I know you’re thinking I’m not very sturdy to be going homesteading but it’s what Claude wants. I’ll get stronger with time.”