Read Place to Belong, a Online

Authors: Lauraine Snelling

Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #FIC042000, #Women ranchers—Fiction, #Brothers—Fiction, #Black Hills (S.D. and Wyo.)—Fiction

Place to Belong, a (12 page)

BOOK: Place to Belong, a
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Lucas glanced at his brother. “I told him we do half a steer here and how many we feed. Usually over a hundred, isn't it?”

“And we rarely have anything left over.”

“But a whole steer would leave too much.” Mavis read ahead. “Listen to this:

“We are trying to come up with more events that will benefit the ranchers around the area. Do you have any ideas that we might incorporate? Is there anyone who might invite city folk to come stay at their ranch a few days? Involve them in the day-to-day ranch work? They could learn to ride, possibly learn to shoot, work a lariat, rope something. Maybe even milk a cow if you have one. Feed animals. You tell me other chores that those with no experience could do.”

Mavis stopped and looked around at her family. “What do you think?”

“How about tour a gold mine?” Ransom leaned back in his chair. “You think people would actually pay to take part in our daily life?”

“Cassie could teach them to shoot. Arnett could teach them to ride. He taught lots of others. Here they would even see buffalo up close.” Lucas stared at his brother. “That gold mine might pay off after all.”

“But where would they stay?” Gretchen picked at the crumbs of gingerbread.

“The bunkhouse,” Arnett threw in. “A whole family could stay there.”

“He can have my room, and Mor and I will stay where we are.”

“How long would it take us to build another bunkhouse?”

“We could jack up that bunkhouse at my place and bring it over here. It ain't as heavy to move as the steam engine. That would be two cabins.”

“How long would it take to build another one or two?” Mavis rose and fetched her tablet and pencil. “We need a name.”

“We have a name. The Bar E.”

“The Bar E what?”

“Guest Ranch?” Cassie asked.

Lucas squinted his eyes and rocked his chair back on two legs. “What was that word I heard?”

Ransom scowled. “If you break the chair, you have to fix it.”

Lucas flinched and the chair legs thumped back down. “Come on. We read it in something.”

“It's a term for Easterners.” Ransom's inflection on the final word was not complimentary.

“Dude?” Cassie asked, question marks all over her face.

“That's it!” Lucas clapped and pointed a finger at her. “Good girl. Dude. Bar E Dude Ranch. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a lot of work.” Ransom heaved a sigh. “But then it could bring in actual cash money.”

“We could have a shooting contest at the end of— Would they stay a week? More? Less?”

“Why would someone come so far for less than a week? Maybe two? If we did this during July, they could help with the haying. If people want to learn about ranching, we sure could teach 'em.”

“Maybe overnight camping at the mine?” Ransom started to rock back, glanced around, and sat back quietly.

Mavis tried to keep her grin to herself, but when she looked at Ransom, he winked. “How would we feed ten, twelve people? They would have to understand that we are a working ranch. July would be before the garden needs to be put up—mostly. They could come here after the Hill City celebration or a week before that. Or . . . ?” She nodded as she reread her notes.

Could this be the answer to their prayers to save the ranch? It sure looked like something they could all get excited about. Would anyone have dreamed this up were it not for the letter from Mr. Porter? In the long run, Cassie was at the center of the change. What would Ivar say? She blew out a breath. Would someone really pay to work on the ranch with them?

12

L
ucas, don't we need to talk?”

“Of course.” He motioned to the chair across the table.

Cassie caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “I . . . ah . . .” She glanced at the bustle going on around them, with everyone getting ready to leave for church. Why was this so hard? She'd thought they would discuss the wedding yesterday, but he was gone by the time the kitchen was cleaned up, and she'd not realized he was heading to Hill City. But then the others didn't either, the way Ransom had asked about him and then glared. Ransom's glare always made her grateful she was not the one on the receiving end.

She snagged her mind and dragged it back to the moment. “Are we planning on talking with Reverend Brandenburg after church?” She put the emphasis on the
we
. After all, Lucas was the one who had been pushing so hard to marry her. She so much wanted to say,
Look, if you've changed your mind, you just need to let me know
. But she was committed now; she had given her word.

Lucas nodded. “I guess we should, huh?” He exhaled heavily. “Did you choose a date?”

“Isn't that something we should do together?”

Lucas leaned forward. “I'm sorry, Cassie. I got so involved in the plans for our future, our whole family's future, that I guess I figured that whatever you decide is fine with me.” He reached for her hand. “Now that you've agreed to the most important question, that is.”

Somewhat mollified, Cassie dropped her voice. “Your mother suggested the last Saturday of December, the thirty-first.”

“Sounds fine to me.”

“Do you want to have it at the church?” she asked. Why was he not offering suggestions? After all, this was a rather momentous event.

“Fine.”

“Or here at the house?” She held up a stop hand before he could finish shrugging.

“We have to leave now or we'll be late,” Mavis called from near the front door. “Ransom has the sleigh up.”

Lucas pushed back his chair. “Let's go. We can talk about this on the way to town.” He lifted her coat from the rack.

“I need to get my hat.” Cassie swirled down the hall and lifted her dress hat off the peg on the wall. If she'd had any money she would have bought a real lady's hat, rather than her white felt western show-day hat, but she'd not had money, and one did not go to church without a hat. In fact, most women did not go out of the house without a hat. Back in the kitchen, Lucas held her coat for her, and she shoved her arms into the sleeves. Without even saying thank you, she sailed out of the house and allowed Ransom to help her into the sleigh. Now to just loosen her jaw and . . . She sucked in a deep breath of icy air and turned her head at Lucas's call.

“Too many for the sleigh. I'll catch up with you.” He was heading for the barn. How were they supposed to talk this way?

“Sorry, Cassie, I could have ridden,” Arnett told her over his shoulder.

“Sorry, nothing. We've had six in the sleigh before, and while it was tight, we did it.” Ransom flipped the reins and turned the team in a close circle. They jingled merrily out the long lane.

The sleigh bells singing, the glory of sun on snow, and the warmth of Mavis's shoulder next to hers sent a measure of calm to Cassie's spirit. They would ask Reverend Brandenburg about the date. Assuming he agreed to that, should they do it in the morning or afternoon? Evening would be too hard for them to come out to the ranch.

What did she want to do? “Mavis?”

“Yes, dear.”

Cassie stared at the robe tucked around them, then looked to Mavis. “Should we put the wedding off until later in January or . . . ? I mean, there's no real reason to hurry, is there?”
Other than I want to get it over with so I can get on with my life.
Now, that was a rather stupid thing to even think, let alone say.

“That's up to you and Lucas.”

Somehow Cassie had known that was what the answer would be. “I don't want something fancy.” Not a lot of people around was what she really meant. People she didn't know. She had never had trouble meeting people, but usually she'd had her father to introduce her or after that, Jason Talbot. Here, Mavis had pretty much taken over the responsibility. When she thought about it, maybe she had left all her responsibilities up to Mavis, ever since the night of the shooting. Everyone had shelter—at least she hoped and prayed Chief had a place to live—food enough, and while she wanted to give them more, nothing else was critical.

“How can I help you, Cassie?” Mavis leaned closer to ask.

She shrugged. “I think I just have to work this out.” She made sure her mouth smiled. “Thanks.”

Once inside the church, Cassie found herself flanked by Mavis
on one side and Gretchen on the other. Lucas sat next to Gretchen. Cassie caught the nudge and the frown, but she had also noticed the entire Hudson family in the pew three rows behind them. The daggers to her back were becoming familiar. Would that last forever? Maybe it would be better for them all if she didn't come to church. Maybe it would change after the wedding.

When the organ broke into the opening hymn and the congregation rose to sing, she forgot the eddies swirling around her and lost herself in the waves of the song. “‘Jesus calls us o'er the tumult of our life's wild restless sea. . . .'” She'd seen waves breaking on rocks one time when her father took her to the northern Atlantic coast. The song fit, both with her memory and her present.

When Reverend Brandenburg started his sermon with “Jesus calls us; beloved; let us listen to His call,” Cassie almost stopped breathing, the better to hear. “Let us listen closely and carefully so the restless sea around us does not drown out His voice. Our Jesus said to Peter, ‘Come to me.' And Peter heard Him over the call of the sea and stepped out of the boat to walk to Jesus on the water—until he took his eyes off Jesus and started to sink. Peter immediately cried out—he did not think of anything else—‘Save me, Jesus.' So if you feel you are sinking, even into a sea of your own making, call out to Jesus. Reach out to Him and He will take your hand and lift you up to safety.”

Cassie barely heard the congregation's amen and the blessing that followed. Jesus would hear her cry. When they all stood for the benediction, she heard the words again. “The Lord bless thee, and keep thee . . . and give thee peace.”

Peace. As her mother used to say,
“Peace, not pieces.”

The daggers were back as she moved down the aisle. What could she do? Or was this something Lucas had to take care of?
Lord, let Lucas begin to heal this wound so that there can be peace again between these two families. I do not want to cause dissension and conflict. Peace. I want peace.

When she asked to speak with the reverend, he smiled at her. “Of course. I would love to talk with you. It'll be just a few minutes.”

Cassie nodded. She felt Lucas leave her side and turned slightly to find Mavis and Gretchen right behind her, as if they were her watchdogs. As they paused on the top step to let their eyes adjust to the snow glare, she saw Lucas waiting in the shoveled-out area at the bottom of the four steps, staring intently out to the wagons—where his former best friend was helping his sister into the sleigh. Was Lucas looking at Betsy or her brother?

The die is cast.
That famous line most assuredly applied to her, to them, as they left town behind and whooshed toward home. So very few days remaining until the wedding, or ceremony, or whatever she wanted to call it. While she would much prefer to think about this in the quiet of her room, the others were already discussing it.

Lucas rode right beside the sleigh so he could take part in the conversation. “Ask Cassie” seemed to be his answer to every question.

“But what do
you
want?” She raised her voice. “Lucas, you have to say what you want.”

“Apple pie for the dinner?”

The others sort of laughed, but Mavis shook her head. “Done. Now let's get serious. Besides all of us and the Brandenburgs, who all should be there for the ceremony?”

Lucas thought and shook his head. “If we were having a big party, that would be different. But if Cassie really is serious about keeping this simple, then you needn't worry about it anymore. We'll have the ceremony at noon and dinner after that, and then we'll drive to our new home. I plan to move over there as soon as . . .” He paused and shrugged. “Soon as we have it ready, I
guess, and we have signed the papers with Arnett. I don't want to live there until that is finished.”

“Won't take much, I keep trying to tell you,” Arnett said. “We draw up the papers and go in to see your lawyer. I was hopin' to see him in church, but he wasn't there. Maybe Wednesday or Thursday, whichever is best.”

“Thursday.” Mavis looked to the others for confirmation. “Good. Then we'll go get the Christmas tree as soon as we've had dinner.”

Later that afternoon, all mounted on horses, they rode across the pasture and up toward the cabin, following the trail Micah had created, Benny and Othello bounding along beside them. When Benny announced their arrival, Dog ran out to meet them and Micah and Runs Like a Deer met them on the front step.

“We're going for a Christmas tree,” Mavis announced. “Do you and Runs Like a Deer want to come? We can get one for you too, or you can enjoy ours.”

Runs Like a Deer peeked out from under his arm, shaking her head. “No tree here.”

“But you can come with us. We brought coffee and cookies too.”

“Come on, Micah. I never see you anymore.” Cassie hoped pleading would work. She missed having her family around.

“Okay. But we don't have horses up here.”

“You ride behind me, Runs Like a Deer.”

“And you can take my horse, Micah. I'll ride with Mor.” Gretchen slid to the snow as she talked.

After shifting riders, the group headed up the hill, Ransom riding in the lead to break a path through the knee-deep snow. While under the pine trees, the snow wasn't as deep, but in the shade, the cold bit harder.

“Are you warm enough?” Cassie asked her friend.

“Always. Micah makes sure the fire is going.”

“Micah is a good man,” Cassie mused.
For all the years I've known him.

“Yes. Very good to me.”

Cassie smiled over her shoulder. “I'm so happy for you. We set the date today for the wedding—the last Saturday of December.”

“You marry Lucas?”

“Yes.” Perhaps saying it more often would make it seem real. “Has Lucas told you about Christmas Day at the ranch house?”

“Yes.”

“And you'll come?”

“Yes, of course.”

Cassie ducked as a shower of snow slid from the branches higher up. Wind Dancer pranced to the side, and Othello barked at the falling snow. She could hear Runs Like a Deer chuckling behind her. She, who had laughed so seldom before, was now enjoying the romping dog and snow showers. Surely that could be called a small miracle.

BOOK: Place to Belong, a
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