Cassidy

by Lori Wick

  “How so?”

  “Lots of ways. He likes his eggs scrambled—I like mine fried.”

  “That’s significant,” Cassidy said with just the right amount of sarcasm.

  “And I like my coffee black,” Trace put in, clearly in his element. “Brad will drink it black, but he prefers his with milk or cream.”

  Cassidy had to laugh again.

  “On top of that,” Trace added, “his favorite book of the Bible is James. Mine is Luke.”

  “Anything else?” Cassidy asked.

  “No,” Trace said with outrageous calm. “That about sums it up. You see, we’re very different.”

  Cassidy could not stop smiling at him. Trace looked over, not wanting to smile back but not able to help himself.

  “Why is Luke your favorite book?” Cassidy asked.

  “Because of the story of Christ’s birth—that’s my favorite account of it. I also think Doctor Luke just adds aspects that are special all through the book.”

  “Luke was a doctor?”

  “Yes. Chapter four of Colossians talks about Luke the beloved physician.”

  “How did I miss that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m going to have to read Luke again with that in mind.”

  “I think you’ll like knowing. You and Luke might have had some things in common.”

  “Like what?”

  “His heart seemed compassionate in his writing. You’re a compassionate person, Cass.”

  “That was a nice thing to say.”

  “It might have been, but it’s also true.”

  Cassidy smiled at him and realized they were almost at the livery. Trace took care of the horse and buggy while Cassidy waited for him out front. It was light enough to walk on her own, but it was nice to be seen to her door.

  “All set?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Thanks for always doing that.”

  “You’re welcome. Don’t forget that fabric,” Trace remembered to add.

  Cassidy ran upstairs to get it as soon as they arrived, and when she handed it to Trace, he fingered it in his free hand.

  “It is nice fabric.”

  Cassidy smiled at him and couldn’t resist one more tease. “Let’s hope Brad likes it too. We wouldn’t want there to be yet another thing you’re different about.”

  Trace tried to scowl at her, but his smile peeked through.

  “Goodnight, Mr. Holden,” Cassidy said with evident satisfaction.

  “Goodnight, Miss Norton,” Trace bid softly, still wanting to laugh.

  Cassidy slipped up the stairs and didn’t look back. Had she looked, she would have found Trace watching her all the way inside.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CASSIDY LOOKED INTO THE FACE of the five-year-old in her lap and tried not to laugh. Heidi Vick was telling her a story about her new puppy, and some words came easier than others. Her brother, Franklin, caught part of the tale and, being two years older, sat at Cassidy’s side to help out.

  “He’s supposed to sleep outside,” Franklin elaborated, “but he cries, so Papa lets him in Heidi’s room.”

  “That’s nice for the puppy.”

  “Buster,” Heidi corrected.

  “I like that name,” Cassidy told her, suddenly realizing how much she wanted children of her own.

  “He’s going to be big,” Franklin added. “Papa says.”

  “Big as me,” Heidi put in.

  “That’s big,” Cassidy said and smiled gently at the little girl. Heidi smiled shyly in response, and Cassidy’s heart melted.

  “Cassie, did you have some supper?” the children’s mother came over to ask.

  “I’m getting there, thanks, Miranda. Maybe the kids and I will go together.”

  Miranda smiled at her children, who clearly liked this idea, and without further discussion the four of them headed toward the buffet supper that Jeanette, Heather, and Becky had prepared. Fourteen people had gathered to celebrate Meg Holden’s twenty-fourth birthday, and once Brad had prayed for the meal, folks were left to visit or eat as they pleased. Cake and presents were planned for later.

  “I’ll sit by you, Miss Cassidy,” Franklin said when they had their plates.

  “Oh, Franklin, I’m glad.”

  “Me too,” Heidi said, her mother carrying her plate.

  And the children did sit near her, but they were busy with their food, and the women had a chance to talk.

  “How are you feeling?” Cassidy asked Miranda, who was due about a month after Meg.

  “I’m still sick in the morning, but that’s normal for me.”

  “I thought that just lasted a few weeks or months.”

  “I think it does for most women. I know Meg felt fine fairly soon.”

  “And how about labor? Is it harder for you because of that, or doesn’t it make a difference?”

  “My labor goes pretty fast. I hadn’t thought about whether that was tied into sickness or not. I’ll have to think on that.”

  Cassidy nodded, quite taken with the topic, but Miranda looked up and laughed. Her husband, Chas, was trying to go through the buffet line. Parker, the youngest Vick, was perched on one arm, clearly not going anywhere, making it a bit hard.

  “He’s been so clingy lately,” Miranda explained. “Chas gets home, and he’s all Parker wants.”

  “We’re having a girl,” Heidi announced out of the blue.

  “You are?” Cassidy asked.

  “Then it’s even,” she said with complete logic, and Cassidy had to put her napkin to her mouth to cover her smile.

  “It’s very clear to her,” Miranda said softly. “We keep explaining that God might have other ideas, but she sees it only one way.”

  “And then after the baby’s born,” Cassidy said, “it’s a problem either way, isn’t it?”

  Miranda’s eyes got a bit large. “I hadn’t thought of that. If it’s a boy, we’ll have some explaining to do. If it’s a girl, she’ll assume that even is how God does things.”

  The women had a good laugh over this as Brad watched them from across the room. He’d been eating and talking to Heather, but Becky had needed her and he’d found himself on his own.

  “All alone?” Meg asked, taking Heather’s seat, lowering herself into the chair.

  “Only just,” he said, not sure how long he’d been watching Cassidy.

  “You look thoughtful,” Meg said, studying her husband’s face.

  “I am.” He looked into her eyes. “I’ve got to be careful or it might get me into trouble.”

  Meg’s brows rose before she said, “That was cryptic.”

  Brad grinned. Meg would have pressed him to explain that smile, but Rylan joined them, and the topic did not come up again.

  Meg’s second pain hit her after dinner on Saturday. She was working on the dishes. Brad had just thanked her for the meal and left for the barn when that familiar knifelike pain went through her. She was sitting at the kitchen table, panting for breath and praying when Trace came in.

  “Meg?” He took one look at her flushed face and went to her side. “What is it?”

  “Just a pain.”

  “Let me help you to the sofa.”

  Trace’s idea of help was to lift her and take her that way. All the time he walked, Meg told him she was all right, but he didn’t listen.

  “I’m getting Brad.”

  “Trace!” Meg raised her voice, and her brother-in-law stopped and looked at her. Meg opened her mouth to tell him she was all right but decided against it. The pain had subsided, but she knew that Brad would only worry unless he could see her.

  “Nothing,” Meg ended up saying, and Trace placed her on the sofa and left the house.

  Not surprisingly, he and Brad were back in just minutes, both a little breathless. They found Meg sitting up, not lying down as Trace had left her.

  “Are you all right?” Brad asked, taking a seat beside her. Trace did not speak but sat in a c
hair and looked on.

  “I am. It was one of those pains again. No worse than last time.”

  Brad stared at his wife and made himself say what he was thinking. “Have you considered the possibility of moving into town?”

  Meg looked at him in surprise.

  “No,” she said slowly. “I must admit such a thing never occurred to me.”

  “What are you thinking, Brad?” Trace asked.

  “Only that she might need to be at Jeanette’s or the Dorns' so she would be closer to the doctor.”

  “I want the baby to be born here,” Meg said.

  “I want that too,” Brad agreed, “but not at the risk of you or the baby.”

  The three sat for a time in silence. It was on the tip of Trace’s tongue to ask Brad if he was being hasty, but with the lives of two people to consider, it wasn’t that simple.

  “Why don’t you discuss it with Doc Ertz,” Trace suggested. “See if he has any ideas or thinks that being closer will help?”

  Both Brad and Meg liked the idea, but Meg wanted to wait until Monday.

  “Are you sure?” Brad asked. “We can go right now.”

  “No, I’m tired, and last time it happened I was tired. I don’t want to run the risk of a pain hitting on the way into town. I’d rather wait until Monday morning.”

  “All right,” Brad agreed, and then turned to his brother. “When you get into town tonight, I want you to tell Rylan and then Cass that we have to cancel for tomorrow.”

  “No, Brad,” Meg argued, touching his arm. “Cassie will help me, and I’ll nap after the meal.”

  Brad looked at her. “You’ll tell me in the morning if you suspect you’re not up to this?”

  “I will. Please, Brad. I’ve been looking forward to having them all week.”

  Brad bowed his head until his forehead lay against Meg’s. He did not have the words to explain what this woman did to his heart. The desire to protect her and lay the world at her feet was amazingly strong.

  “For the moment you’re all right?” Brad questioned again, his voice soft, his mind barely aware of the way Trace left them on their own.

  “Yes. I’m going to lie down for a while to make sure.”

  Brad put his arms around her. Meg held him right back. Brad did not want to rush this baby, but a part of him wondered if he would survive the waiting. He thought it might be almost more than a man’s heart could take.

  Trace rode away from Token Creek on Saturday night, his mind half on the town, half on the time he’d just spent with Rylan, Chandler, and Philip.

  They’d been in the book of Mark, and the discussion had been very good. Rylan had shared some things that Trace had never thought of before. The authority of Jesus Christ in the Gospels was unmistakable, but for the first time, Trace really looked at the response of the people. Some were quietly skeptical, some openly doubted, and others wanted to put Christ to death.

  It made Trace think about the kind of message a man had to have to rile folks that badly. He’d had his brother mad at him more than one time in his life, but Brad never wanted to kill him. There was no getting around the fact that Jesus did not garner a lukewarm response. And another thing was also clear: People had not changed all that much in all these years. They still wanted God on their own terms.

  As Trace was recalling some of what the men had talked about and shared, some things he’d seen while riding through town came back to mind. He could not remember the last time he’d been in Token Creek on a Saturday night. It was not a safe place. Boisterous noise, both music and voices, poured from the saloons, and two women had tried to speak to him from the shadows of a building. Two drunks argued over a horse, and at one point Trace heard gunfire.

  Rylan’s words about praying for Token Creek came to mind. Rylan lived in town, not near a saloon but close enough to hear the noise each week. In some ways the ranch was insulated, and Trace realized how much he needed those reminders. He finished the ride home, praying for the folks of Token Creek and remembering the church family’s role and need for prayer as well.

  Cassidy came from her apartment Sunday morning, taking the stairs with practiced ease but coming up short when she noticed Trace waiting for her at the bottom.

  “Well, good morning,” Cassidy said, finishing the stairs and joining him at the bottom.

  “Good morning. Can I walk you to church?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Tell me something,” Trace began as soon as they started down the boardwalk. “Do you go out on Saturday nights?”

  “Rarely. It’s not very safe.”

  Trace nodded. Amid all his thoughts the night before, it had taken some time to remember Cassidy, but as Trace prayed, her safety came flooding into his mind, and he’d not been able to think of anything else.

  “Do you own a gun, Cass?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know how to shoot one?”

  “No.” This time she frowned. “What is going on, Trace?”

  “I was in town last night to meet with Ry and the other men.”

  “Oh.” Cassidy was catching on.

  “I had a quick refresher of how bad Token Creek gets on Saturday nights. I forgot how noisy and drunken it could be.”

  “It’s pretty bad,” Cassidy had to agree.

  “Do you feel safe?”

  “Most of the time. It’s hard if someone starts a fight outside the store or I hear gunshots.”

  “How do you get to sleep?”

  “If I’m very tired, it doesn’t matter. If not, it takes a while.”

  They weren’t far from the church then, so Trace stopped, knowing they had time. He looked down at Cassidy, wanting to change her situation but not knowing how. The thought of her not being safe bothered him no small amount.

  “What are you thinking?” Cassidy asked.

  “I’m just wanting you to be safe. Nothing has changed for you. You’ve lived here for months, dealing with Saturday nights as they come, but it’s new for me.”

  “Well, thank you for your concern, but as I said, I make sure I’m inside, even before dark falls. And lost sleep is not the worst thing that can happen.”

  They had turned off Main Street now and moved on toward the church.

  “Good morning,” Chandler greeted.

  “How are you?” Cassidy asked.

  “Doing well. Yourself?”

  “Fine, thank you.”

  “How are you, Trace?”

  Trace said he was fine but then went ahead and explained to Chandler what he’d been discussing with Cassidy.

  “It helps that she’s upstairs,” Chandler said. “And none of her apartment windows look down on the street.”

  Cassidy listened to this and felt just a bit amazed. It never occurred to her that these men had given this any thought. It was nice. She felt cared for, but it was also a surprise.

  Music could be heard coming from inside the church now, and Cassidy moved toward the door. The men trailed her, and the three sat together. Rylan started the service just a few minutes later.

  “Are we set?” Brad asked Meg, looking around the laden table, seeing that she had put on another great meal.

  “I think so,” she told him with a smile and then said to the group, “If you want something you don’t see, just ask.”

  Everyone sat down, and Brad prayed. “Father God, it’s a privilege to have Rylan and Cassie join us. Thank You for their presence in our lives. Thank You for the fine meal, all the hands that worked on it, and Your great provision to us. Amen.”

  No other words were needed. Food and conversation were in abundant supply, and no one wanted to waste either. They spent more than an hour eating and talking, and then without further discussion, all ended up in the kitchen doing the dishes in record time.

  “Meg is going to lie down for a while,” Brad said when things wound down a bit and the group began to make their way back to the living room. “Don’t feel like you have to rush away.”

&nbs
p; “If you don’t mind,” Rylan said, taking the opportunity, “Cassie and I are going to take a little walk down by your stream.”

  “Sounds good,” Brad said encouragingly. “We’ll have dessert when everyone is back.”

  Cassidy had not been expecting this, but she appreciated Rylan remembering that she wanted to talk. The pastor headed toward the door, and Cassidy followed.

  “I hope this was all right,” Rylan said as they left the porch.

  “Thank you for remembering.”

  “How are things at the store?” Rylan asked.

  “Much better than I ever dreamed. I’m not going to retire wealthy, but I have plenty to live on.”

  “What’s your favorite part about the work?”

  “Well, I love to sew, but the people are the best part. It’s never the same twice.”

  “Token Creek is a special place.”

  “I didn’t know that a year ago at this time, but it’s very clear to me now.”

  “We’ve never talked about how you came here.”

  “I tell people I was looking for a business opportunity, and that’s true, but it’s not the whole story.”

  Walking along the stream, Cassidy told Rylan about her past, the painful details of her family, and her biggest burden of all: whether she’d been wrong to keep this information to herself.

  “Whom do you think you should have told?” Rylan asked.

  “I don’t know. Meg doesn’t seem to think it’s everyone’s business, but I wonder if I should be more open about it.”

  “I can’t see a reason to broadcast your life, Cassie. Unless I’ve missed something you’re not seeing any of the men in the church family. You would certainly have to share if that were the case.”

  “No, you haven’t missed anything,” Cassidy reported without bitterness. “There’s no romance in my life.”

  Rylan watched her for a moment. She was so special. He could think of several young men who would do well to have her as a wife.

  “Thank you, Pastor, for hearing me out,” Cassidy said, “and not holding anything against me.”

  “There’s nothing to hold against you, Cassie.”

  The two started back toward the ranch house, the conversation moving to the sermon and Rylan’s reminders that morning about showing hospitality. Cassidy said she’d learned a lot about that from Meg.