The Cactus Creek Challenge (14 page)

Cassie stilled. “Your father?”

“That’s right. The legend himself, Obadiah Wilder. And according to him, since he cleared out all the real outlaws and roughnecks, it’s quiet as a church supper.” It stung just to say it. He’d probably carry the scar of his father’s comments all his born days. The fact that he might be right only made it worse. “Even a girl can handle the job. How humiliating is that?”

That was when she hit him in the face with a sopping-wet tea towel and marched out.

“Even a girl can handle the job?” Outrage flowed clear through Cassie’s fingertips. She stomped along the sidewalk and headed for the creek to clear her head before she had to stand in front of the town and defend her work of the past week.

Even a girl can handle the job. Except she couldn’t … or at least she hadn’t handled it very well this week. She’d gotten knocked on her tush in front of the town, embarrassed by Ben, and walked out on by her sole employee. Not the best of weeks.

She ducked under the low-hanging branches of a gnarled cottonwood and sank to the ground, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. A soul-cleansing cry sounded good about now, but she couldn’t give in to the urge. Some girls looked fragile and pretty when they cried, but not Cassie. Her face got red, her nose ran, and her eyes looked like she’d rubbed them with pepper flakes. She couldn’t turn up in front of the town all blotchy and bedraggled. A rock poked her behind, and she reached beneath her, plucked it up, and flung it into the muddy water. Righteous anger would sustain her better than tears.

Why did Ben have to be so unreasonable? So blind? So focused on his precious career that he couldn’t see what was right in front of his face? It was like he was obsessed.

Well, isn’t that a little pot and kettle of you?

Of course it isn’t. Ben and I are nothing alike in that respect. I’m not trying to slay any ghosts and prove myself
.

Aren’t you? Isn’t that why you’re so eager to win this competition, to prove to Ben and everyone else in town that you’re a capable adult? To get Ben to notice that you’re not a child anymore?

“Oh, be quiet.” She squashed the irritating inner voice. “You have bigger fish to fry. You have to convince Jigger to come back to work.” No way could she make her first report to the committee and the town and announce that her deputy refused to work with her any longer. She might as well just hand Ben the Challenge on a platter.

Cassie pushed herself up from the creek bank and dusted her hands. That niggling voice clamored for her attention, but she stuffed it down. “Enough wallowing, girl. Time to do something about your situation.”

Saturday trading was in full swing on Main Street, with a group already clustered around Svenson’s Mercantile. A glance at the watch pinned to her lapel told her she had just under half an hour before she would have to stand up and give an account of her first week as sheriff. She put her hands on her hips, surveying the buildings. Where was Jigger likely to be? He practically lived at the jail. Did he even keep a room at the hotel or the boardinghouse? Did he hang out at the café or the bakery?

The Amarillo House Hotel was the closest. She’d try there first. Nodding to Mrs. Pym, who shuffled by with a basket on her arm, Cassie entered the hotel lobby. P.J. leaned on his elbow behind the counter.

“Howdy, Miss Cassie.” He smoothed down his cowlick. “Fine day, ain’t it?”

She resisted the urge to correct his grammar and put on a pleasant smile. “Hello, P.J. It is a fine day. I’m looking for Jigger. Have you seen him?” Better not to admit she didn’t know where her deputy lived.

“Oh, sure. He came in awhile ago. Went straight up to his room. Face like a thundercloud, but wearing his best church meeting clothes.”

“Which room?”

“Six, at the end of the hall, but—”

She was halfway up the stairs already, eager to get her groveling done. Her shoes sank into the new hallway runner, muffling her footsteps. The door to number six stood open on the left, overlooking the alley behind the hotel. Men’s voices, low and rumbly came from inside the room. She stopped.

“Nope, not if you offered to make me the Prince of Persia in the bargain. I’ve had it. Bad enough I have to take orders from a girl who has no more notion about being a lawman than I have about knitting petticoat lace, but to be ridiculed by the likes of Wally Dunn and Mrs. Pym? No, sir.”

“C’mon, Jigger, she needs you.”

Cassie put her fingers over her lips to stifle a gasp.

Ben … in the room.

“She don’t need me to serve tea. Do you know she made me climb on a chair and sweep down cobwebs? Me. A seasoned lawman. I ain’t no chambermaid. And I ain’t toting no more buckets or sweeping. She even told me I couldn’t sleep on her new straw ticks until I took a bath.” Indignation rang in his voice. “I told her you didn’t like anyone messing with your stuff, but she didn’t listen, just went ahead and scrubbed the place down and emptied the desk and threw out my favorite old serape.”

“You know she means well. I’ll admit, she shouldn’t have made you dress up and serve tea.”

“No, she shouldn’t have. How do you think the punchers down at the Royal will treat me if they know I was playing butler to a bunch of busybody biddies? It’s embarrassing. This whole Challenge has been one disaster after another, and we’re not hardly through the first week.”

Cassie grimaced.

“C’mon. It hasn’t been that bad.”

“Before this week, had you ever been knocked down in the street by one of the Shoop brothers? Or served tea in the jail? Or had an outhouse blown up? Or been caught standing on the street in an apron? I don’t even know what’s happening down at the livery, but I imagine it hasn’t been all roses and sunshine.”

“That might be true, but doesn’t that just prove what I’m saying? Cassie needs you. I need you, Jigger. It’s our duty as lawmen to protect our citizens, especially women.”

A little warm fuzzy spot opened in Cassie’s heart. Ben was a protector by nature, and he was determined to look after her. As much as that infuriated her from time to time, she couldn’t help feeling cherished.

Ben went on, “Someone’s gotta be there to protect Cassie from her own stubbornness. She’s so focused on proving to everyone that she can do my job better than I can that she’s apt to leap first and say oops later. She’s always been just like a headstrong filly that way.”

The warm fuzzy spot died under a cold dousing of reality. She ground her back teeth and raised her hands, rigid with frustration. Why did he always have to go that one little bit further and ruin everything?

“I guess you’re right,” Jigger said.

“Then you’ll come back?”

“For you, but I ain’t taking any of her sass no more. You tell her that, will you?”

“You can tell her yourself. She’s standing out in the hallway.”

Cassie jerked.

“Come on in, Cass. Jigger has something to say.”

Feeling like a child called on the carpet, she eased around the door frame. How did she get herself into these predicaments? Best to bluster through it and not give Ben the satisfaction of gloating.

“Jigger, I’ve come to apologize for today. You were right, I shouldn’t have forced you into the role of waiter. I am sincerely sorry, and I am asking you to reconsider and come back to work for me.” She laced her fingers and straightened her arms, locking her elbows and holding her hands low.

Jigger, his hair now in its familiar tangle, scratched his armpit. “No more cleaning?”

“Not unless I do it myself.”

“No more tea parties?”

“Not in the jail.”

“What about my serape?”

She rolled her eyes. “Jigger, that thing smelled like an old horse blanket.”

His chin went up, and she noticed several nicks from where he’d cut himself shaving. He had tried for her. The poor man. She had hounded him and bossed him around and turned his world upside down.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t throw the serape out. I just took it home to wash it. I’ll bring it back as soon as I can.” Which would be after a couple more washes. It really was indescribable.

He pursed his lips and squinted at her out of the corner of his eye. He was going to make her work for it.

She nearly choked on the helping of humble pie being served up to her. Ben had his index finger across his lips, but she knew he was laughing. The wretch. He’d get his comeuppance, and she only prayed she’d be there to see it.

“Please, Jigger. I can’t win the Challenge without your help.”

Cassie held her breath.

“Fine. I’ll come back.”

Whew
.

T
he next morning, Cassie felt more herself. She’d left the gun and badge off and dressed in her best gown, a pale yellow-sprigged cotton that brought out the highlights in her red hair. The tiny green flowers scattered across the fabric and the green bow at her throat matched her eyes, and for the first time in a week, she dabbed a little bit of rose-scented perfume on her wrists and behind her ears.

A hint of shadow hung just under her eyes, testament to the wakeful night just past. The jailhouse tea had been a disaster, and the memory left her feeling small. In the dark of night, she just knew for certain Ben would never see her as an adult woman. He would fall in love and marry someone else, and she would live her life in spinsterhood, cherishing her unrequited love.

In the light of day, she told herself to stop being so dramatic.

As she walked to church with her family, Cassie half-listened to her sister’s chatter while she tried to come to grips with her roiling emotions.

“The Challenge is distracting everyone from my wedding. You haven’t even been into the dress shop for your final fitting, Cass.” Millie clasped her Bible to her middle and nudged Cassie. “If you have to walk down the aisle in a dress with the basting stitches showing, it’s your own fault.”

“I forgot. I’ll get there tomorrow, I promise.” Perhaps she could go during her lunch hour. Jigger could watch the jail now that he was back on the payroll.

“And if we have to have sourdough biscuits instead of wedding cake, dear Father, I’m never going to let you forget it.” She threaded her hand through Father’s elbow and gave a happy little skip. “I can’t believe the wedding’s only a few weeks away.”

Cassie had to force down the rush of envy she felt at her sister’s happiness. Once Millie married, Cassie would be alone at home, the only single Bucknell girl, and nobody’s sweetheart.

They filed into church and sat in their usual place, two rows behind the Wilder family, where Cassie could stare at the back of Ben’s head without anyone noticing. Jenny and Amanda slipped into the other end of the pew and sat with Cassie. Amanda smiled up shyly as always and squeezed Cassie’s hand.

“Good morning, sweetie. You look so nice,” Cassie leaned down to whisper.

“So do you, Teacher,” Amanda whispered back.

After the preaching, Cassie felt as small as a worm. The entire sermon had been on the Golden Rule and loving one’s neighbor. The more the pastor spoke, the worse she felt. The delight she’d taken at Ben’s struggles at the school ate at her like hungry wolves.

As soon as church dismissed, she found her most reliable student and enlisted her aid. “Mary Alice, help me round up the kids. I want to talk to them. But keep it quiet. Have them meet me behind the church.”

In a few moments, her students began to assemble. “Quick, now. Gather ’round.” She drew them to her like a mother hen, so hungry to see their faces.

“I’ve missed you all so much.” She hugged a couple of the girls. “But”—she looked askance at the boys—“I’m hearing some things I’m not too pleased about.”

The twins looked up at her with angelic expressions, as if they had no idea what she was talking about, but Thomas and Isaac and Mike and the others reddened and shifted their weight, not wanting to meet her eyes.

“I have a suspicion that you were having some fun baiting a new teacher, but that’s got to stop. It isn’t nice, nor is it fair to Mr. Wilder.”

Thomas raised his hand, just as if they were in school. “But, Miss Bucknell, we just wanted to help you win the Challenge.”

Her heart warmed, and she wanted to hug his thin shoulders. What great kids.

“That’s very sweet of you, Thomas, but it isn’t right. You have to behave for Mr. Wilder just as you would for me. No more birds in the desk drawers and”—she gave the twins her best stern “you’d better behave or else” teacher stare—“no more explosions. Got it?”

They sighed and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I tell you what. If you all do your best, learn your lessons, and do exactly as Mr. Wilder tells you for the rest of this month, I’ll take you for a picnic along Cactus Creek on a school day. We’ll play games and fish and loaf around for a whole day with no lessons. Agreed?”

Sunbeam smiles all around.

“But you can’t tell him I talked to you. It will be our secret.”

Hunched shoulders and happy, covert grins.

“All right, you can go. And I want to hear good reports back from all of you.” She touched Mary Alice’s arm to hold her back, waiting until the rest of the class had scampered off.