Cassidy

by Lori Wick

  “Or!” Rylan exclaimed, still prowling around, the women laughing together. “Instead of these little silk ties on the curtains, you could go with leather straps. Maybe something from an old horse’s bridle.”

  Rylan looked expectantly at the women now, his eyes innocent, while they tried to control themselves.

  “Well?” he questioned. “Are my ideas welcome or not? I’m sure I could come up with more.”

  “I don’t know if we can take more,” Jeanette said, gasping for air.

  “Here you go, Cassie,” Rylan approached, holding out the money to her.

  Cassidy looked at it and then up at him.

  “Please tell this family how much this means right now. I—” Cassidy began, but couldn’t find the words.

  “I’ll tell them,” Rylan spoke gently, his kind smile making Cassidy want to cry.

  Jeanette walked the pastor outside, and when she came back, Cassidy was standing right where she left her.

  “That was wonderful,” the older woman said.

  “Yes, it was. I asked God to send me more work. I asked Him to give me the strength to work harder if He sent more work. My imagination didn’t include anything like this.”

  “'Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think,'” Jeanette quoted from Ephesians.

  Cassidy could only nod. Her heart was so blessed, and the reminder that God was watching her was sweet indeed. She went back to work, praying for the family who had shared with her and asking God to bless them in every possible way.

  Meg had made it through another day, her due date just a week down the road. She tired easily, her back hurting all the time, but she got done what she could. And if the evening meals were a little less varied than usual and her part in the conversation a little lacking, the men she lived with never uttered a word of complaint.

  On Thursday Brad and Trace had been working fairly close to home and were indoors a bit early that evening. They helped put the food on the table, and then all three sat down to eat. Both Trace and Meg bowed their heads so Brad could pray, but the room stayed silent. Not until they both looked up did Brad speak, and it was to Trace alone.

  “I’m not going to ask God to provide a wife for you any longer.”

  Trace looked at his brother but didn’t reply.

  “I can’t do that when I think He’s already provided one.”

  Trace nodded a bit before saying, “I assume you’re talking about Cass?”

  “Yes. You need to marry that girl.”

  “I think she has feelings for Chandler.”

  Brad had not expected this. He stared at Trace, thinking that it wasn’t supposed to be like that. In his mind all Trace needed was a push from him. All he needed was his older brother to point out to him that Token Creek’s seamstress was the perfect wife for him. Before he could find words, Meg spoke.

  “She hasn’t said anything to me about having feelings for Chandler.”

  Trace did not look convinced. Little things he’d witnessed in the past—at church, and even as recently as the Fourth of July picnic—lingered in his mind.

  “I can’t take that chance,” he said at last. “If I throw my hat into the ring and she’s in love with Chandler, I lose my friendship with Cassidy Norton.”

  Neither Brad nor Meg needed to ask Trace if he wanted their help. His answer would have been a resounding no. The three sat in silence for a few more minutes before Brad bowed his head to pray. Trace found out during the prayer that Brad had changed his mind: He asked God again for a wife for his brother.

  Trace ran some errands in town before picking up Cassidy on Saturday evening. He hit the bank, Wheeler’s, and the livery, and even managed a stop at the Dorns'. Meg was looking for something she thought her Aunt Patience might have. Trace did all of this in record time, and he thought he might have time to stop and ask Rylan a question. Abi Pfister had other ideas. She caught him just as he was leaving the Dorn house, paper in hand.

  “Mr. Holden,” she said in a commanding voice. “If I may have a moment of your time.”

  Trace wondered what would happen if he said he didn’t want to be in her book but saw no reason to be antagonistic.

  “Good evening, Miss Pfister.”

  “Were you born in Token Creek?”

  “No, I was born in Pennsylvania.”

  “What city?”

  “Allentown.”

  “What brought you here?”

  “My parents bought the ranch.”

  “What year was that?”

  “I can’t remember.”

  “Your father. Where is he now?”

  “I don’t know,” Trace said, and something in his voice actually got through to Abi. With a swift glance at his face, she changed the direction of her questions to Brad and Meg.

  “Has the baby been born?”

  “No, ma’am,” Trace answered, wondering how long this would go on.

  “What about—” Abi began, but stopped short. She had spotted someone come from inside the house across the street who was evidently more interesting than Trace. Without so much as a by-your-leave, Abi was away, paper in hand, to assail some other hapless victim. Relieved he’d lost her attention, Trace went on to Cassidy’s, the timing just right.

  “I can tell you had a good night’s sleep,” Trace said to Cassidy as soon as he arrived in the kitchen early Sunday morning. That lady was at the table with coffee.

  “Why is that?” Cassidy asked, sending Trace’s brows up.

  “You were not yourself last night. The longer the evening went, the slower your speech got, and when you blinked it looked like your lids were weighted.”

  Cassidy’s mouth opened, and Trace laughed at her.

  “I was tired,” she tried to argue, “but it wasn’t that bad.”

  The look Trace gave her before pouring himself some coffee was clearly skeptical. Cassidy shook her head at him, and the cowboy smiled.

  “How’s the work going in the barn?” Cassidy asked.

  “Very well. We’re almost done.”

  “And then you leave for your cattle drive in August?”

  “September, mid to late.”

  “How long are you usually gone?”

  “At least two weeks.”

  Cassidy nodded. Meg had told her some of this. She would move into town. She hadn’t done that in the past, but with the baby being so young, Brad wanted Meg with her aunt or his own.

  “How about some eggs?” Trace offered.

  “You’re going to cook?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, readying the pan.

  “Should I be afraid?”

  Trace just held a smile and said, “I’ll have you know I was cooking in this kitchen long before little Meg Dorn came into Brad’s life.”

  “And you survived?”

  Trace turned from the stove and put his hands on his hips. “Are you hungry or not?”

  “I’m hungry.” Cassidy’s tone and face had become very meek. Trace was not the least bit fooled but turned back to the pan before she could see him smile.

  “Why don’t you stay home?” Brad suggested to Meg when she groaned a little just getting out of bed.

  “It’s tempting, but I think I need to get moving. I also hate missing Sunday mornings, and that might be forced upon me after the baby’s born.” Meg sat for a moment on the side of the bed and suddenly smiled. “And besides, Patience said my cousin came into the world on account of a buggy ride. I’m sure the wagon could be just as effective.”

  Brad laughed and went to heat water for shaving. Meg told herself that the longer she sat, the worse it would be. With that little reminder to herself, she forced her body to move.

  “Before you leave...” Chas Vick stood and spoke the moment Rylan finished the prayer that dismissed the congregation. Even Rylan stared as Chas made his way to the front.

  “I have an announcement to make,” Chas continued when he faced the congregation. “In three weeks, on Sunday, Au
gust eighth, we’ll be giving our pastor a day off. That day is Rylan’s five-year anniversary with our church family. We’ll be having testimonies, a time of prayer, and a recounting of our church family history, and we’ll end it all with a potluck lunch.” Chas angled a bit so he could look at Rylan’s surprised face. “And no sermon.”

  Everyone laughed at the look on Rylan’s face, and Rylan had no choice but to laugh over his own surprise.

  “So please don’t miss that time with us,” Chas finished. “If you have a testimony to share or a song you would like us to sing that day, see any elder except Rylan by the first Sunday in August. There will be more details in the weeks ahead. Thank you.”

  There was a good deal of talking when Chas stepped down. Clearly folks were excited, and some still laughed at the way Rylan shook his head in mock pity.

  “Five years,” Cassidy said to Meg, who was next to her. “It would be wonderful to be here so long.”

  “I think so too. I mean,” Meg clarified, “I was certainly around for part of that time, but not the full five years. I do remember my aunt and uncle being excited about Rylan’s coming but sad too because they loved Pastor English and he was dying.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “He didn’t die here. He went to be with his family in Denver, but he lived only another year after he left.”

  “So Rylan came just in time.”

  “Pastor English brought Rylan here. He was the reason Rylan came.”

  Cassidy had never heard any of this. It made her very excited for the second Sunday in August.

  “Are you headed out?” Jeanette asked Cassidy the following Wednesday.

  “Yes. I was hoping to hear news on Meg by now, but that didn’t happen.”

  “So was I,” Jeanette said almost wistfully. This was going to be the grandchild she would never have. She thought about Theta, and her heart clenched a little. Jeanette would have adopted grandchildren, and Theta would have grandchildren she wouldn’t even know.

  “Are you all right to stay?” Cassidy asked, having misunderstood her look.

  “Yes, I was just thinking about this baby. Give Meg my love and tell her to get going.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  And Cassidy did give Meg the message, but all Meg did was laugh. In fact, it wasn’t until Cassidy went to spend the night there on Saturday that Meg took Jeanette’s words to heart. Just after midnight Meg’s pains began. Trace was dead asleep when his brother came to his room and asked him to ride for the doctor. Cassidy heard the voices in the upstairs hall and peeked open her door to find Brad holding a lantern.

  “Has it started?” she asked from around her door, coming awake in a hurry when she saw Trace rushing for the stairs, his shirt only half on.

  “It has,” Brad said before slipping back into the bedroom, trying to remain calm even as he questioned their decision to be so far from town and Doctor Ertz.

  Praying for her friend, Cassidy put a robe on and made her way down to the kitchen, lit another lantern, and put the coffeepot on. She sat at the kitchen table, not as awake as she thought, and waited for the coffee to boil. She heard Trace come back with Doctor Ertz but stayed where she was. Trace eventually wandered in.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice still rough from sleep.

  “Hi,” Cassidy said in return, thanking him when he went to the pot and poured mugs for each of them.

  “Let’s move to the living room,” Trace suggested. “It’s more comfortable in there.”

  Cassidy trailed after him as he led with the lantern and made herself comfortable in one corner of the sofa. Exactly when she dropped off to sleep, she didn’t know. Neither was she aware of Trace and the blanket he spread gently over her.

  “That was bad!” Meg gasped, relieved that Doctor Ertz was there but a little afraid of how much harder things might get.

  “You’re doing all right,” the doctor said, checking her again. “Do you feel like you need to push?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Meg said, still breathing heavily.

  The doctor turned to Brad and asked, “How long ago did things get going?”

  “She woke me with her first pain at midnight.”

  The doctor shook his head, knowing it was only about two o’clock.

  “It’s almost unheard of in a first baby. Things don’t usually go this fast, but I think you should go ahead and push, Meg.”

  Meg nodded, tired but a little excited too. When the next pain hit, she pushed for all she was worth.

  Trace stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs and listened to the tiny cries of a newborn baby. His heart pounded with the intensity of what he was feeling. All he could do was stare when Brad came down the stairs.

  “A girl,” he said quietly.

  “Meg?”

  “She’s good.”

  It was then that Brad caught the shimmer in his brother’s eyes and felt tears thick at the back of his own throat. Wordlessly the men embraced.

  “Kiss Meg for me,” Trace managed when they broke apart.

  “You can come up in a few minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  “Where’s Cass?”

  Trace laughed a little. “She fell asleep in the living room.”

  “She’ll be sorry she missed it.”

  “It was fast,” Trace said, just now realizing it.

  “That’s what the doctor said.”

  The doctor was coming down the stairs just moments later, telling Brad that all was well with both Meg and the baby.

  Brad thanked him and walked him to the door, but Doctor Ertz only clapped him on the shoulder and laughed a little.

  “If I’d known it was going to go that fast, I might have advised she stay with Jeb and Patience.”

  Brad had to laugh to. He’d steeled himself for hours of misery, but as with everything else in the pregnancy, it hadn’t been the way he figured.

  It took a moment for Brad to realize the doctor had left. He’d been standing there staring into the dark yard, letting the weight of the night’s events sink in. He was a father.

  When Cassidy awoke, the living room was light and she was alone. Struggling into a sitting position and pushing the hair from her face, she tried to remember why she was in the living room. Her heart felt as though it stopped and then started again when she remembered Meg and the baby that was coming.

  “Good morning,” Brad called, coming from the direction of the kitchen, a tiny person in his arms.

  “Oh, Brad,” Cassidy whispered. “I fell asleep. I was going to pray Meg through the whole thing, and then I fell asleep.”

  “It’s all right,” Brad said with a smile, taking a seat next to her. “Would you like to hold my daughter?”

  Cassidy couldn’t speak. Brad put the baby in her arms, and all she could do was stare in wonder at the perfect little person God had sent.

  “It went fast,” Brad was saying, but Cassidy barely heard him.

  A girl. Her friend Meg had had a girl, and she was the loveliest thing Cassidy had ever seen, all pink and rosy, her tiny brows and lashes very dark like her mother’s.

  “How’s Meg?” Cassidy suddenly remembered to ask, looking anxiously at Brad.

  “She’s sound asleep. I brought Savanna down so she could rest.”

  “Savanna? You named her Savanna? That was Meg’s favorite name.”

  “Mine too,” Brad said.

  Cassidy smiled hugely. When she spoke again, she was looking at the baby but still made Brad laugh.

  “I believe I’m going to sell my shop. I’m quite certain I should move here to the ranch to be a full-time nursemaid.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  CASSIDY ENDED UP GOING WITH TRACE TO CHURCH. She was not going to leave the ranch without seeing Meg, but that lady woke up with an hour to spare. As Cassidy sat on Meg and Brad’s bed, the two friends were able to visit, hold the baby, and share in the miracle that had happened in the night.

  “I’m selling my business,” Cassidy sa
id, making Meg smile. “I already told Brad. I’m going to be moving out here full time and taking care of this baby.”

  Meg laughed but still said, “She’s wonderful, isn’t she?”

  “Amazing,” Cassidy agreed. “I don’t know if I’ll make it all the way until Wednesday.”

  “Come back with Trace after the service,” Meg invited.

  “Your family will want to visit,” Cassidy said, making herself step aside. “Just as soon as they hear, they’ll be on their way.”

  “I’m glad you were here,” Meg said.

  “Then you didn’t hear the news,” Cassidy returned dryly, frowning at herself. “I wasn’t here. I fell asleep in the living room and slept through the whole thing.”

  It hurt Meg to laugh, but she couldn’t help herself. Holding her stomach and trying not to laugh too hard, Meg took in Cassidy’s disgruntled face, her own slowly turning red with laughter.

  Thinking back on it now, sitting by Trace in the wagon on the way to town, Cassidy had to smile. Trace spotted it.

  “Thinking about the baby?”

  “And Meg. She was very understanding about my sleeping through the birth.”

  Trace’s own shoulders shook.

  “She laughed too,” Cassidy admitted, the disgruntled look back on her face.

  “You meant well,” Trace said, but the words came out on laughter, and she knew she was not going to be allowed to forget this.

  Cassidy might have said more, but they both spotted the buggy coming toward them. Jeb and Patience Dorn were headed for the ranch. Trace stopped when they came abreast of the wagon.

  “You must have seen Doc Ertz,” Trace guessed.

  “We did,” Patience said, “but he wouldn’t tell us anything—only that everyone was doing fine.”

  Trace smiled slowly.

  “Trace Holden,” Patience spoke, sounding like the protective aunt she was. “I’m sure Meg had her baby. You’ve got to tell me what she had.”

  Trace only smiled at her, and Jeb laughed. Patience gave up on him.