Cassidy

by Lori Wick

  “Not much.”

  “Well, come in because I’m going to feed you all day.”

  Cassidy laughed and went along to the house. Trace watched them go and then took care of the horse and buggy. From there he wasted no time getting into the house, not having to pretend anymore that he had other places to be.

  “The trees out here are amazing,” Cassidy said, taking in the colors that were turning fast and telling everyone that October was approaching. The two were on a ride before dinner. Meg had to feed the baby, and both men had already planned to take it easy all week.

  “My mother saw to that,” Trace said, his eyes on the trees as well. “She brought plantings of several varieties of maples when we moved here from Pennsylvania.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Almost six.”

  Cassidy smiled, trying to picture him.

  “What an adventure this must have been for you and Brad.”

  “It was. We got into more trouble that first month than all the other years combined.”

  “Why was that?”

  “Oh, just so much going on and we thought we could do it all. Our father took the switch to us over and over, but we were pretty willful.”

  They rode for a little while in silence, but Trace’s curiosity got the best of him. “What were you like as a child?”

  “I don’t know,” Cassidy admitted. “Just a normal little girl, I guess.”

  “I don’t think so,” Trace argued.

  “Why not?” Cassidy asked on a laugh, sounding as incredulous as she felt.

  “No one with your guts and independence comes from a normal childhood.”

  “I don’t know if that was an insult or not,” Cassidy said.

  “It wasn’t,” Trace assured her.

  Cassidy took some time to think on what he said and finally admitted, “I was alone much of the time. I guess that would account for the independence. But I don’t find myself very gutsy, even though my brother said the same thing.”

  “He said that when he was just here?”

  “Yes. I stood up to him, and he complimented me.”

  “Why are you able to?”

  “I always have. Edson doesn’t scare me for myself, just for others.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I’m afraid he’s going to cheat people I know, and they’ll lose all they have. He’s done it so many times.”

  “Do you think he’ll come back here?”

  “I doubt it. None of his schemes worked, or he would have flaunted that in my face. There’s no reason for him to return.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Edson doesn’t go where there isn’t a profit.”

  This made sense to Trace, and he hoped it would be true. Cassidy didn’t need her brother coming in and out of her life and making her miserable. The damage he’d done already would be felt for a long time.

  “What are you thinking about?” Cassidy asked when he was silent.

  “Your brother. I’m almost glad I didn’t meet him.”

  “He’s very charming. Neal, on the other hand, was not.”

  “Who is Neal?”

  Cassidy wasn’t sure how Neal had been left out of the story, but then maybe she hadn’t told Meg about him. She filled Trace in, and he did not look happy. He pulled his mount to a stop, and Cassidy naturally stopped with him.

  “I want you to take a gun back to town with you.”

  “Trace,” Cassidy said patiently. “They’re not going to come back here. I’m sure of it.”

  Trace did not look convinced, but Cassidy thought nothing of it. She learned otherwise after dinner when he took her out to work on her shooting lessons again.

  “How are you?” Meg asked Cassidy when the men went to feed the stock. Supper was almost ready, but they had some time alone.

  “Oh, Meg,” Cassidy said with a smile. “I feel like this is all a dream and I’m going to wake up any moment.”

  Meg smiled before saying, “Should I pinch you?”

  Cassidy laughed but then had to ask, “Why did you never ask me if I had feelings for Trace?”

  “What if you hadn’t?” Meg asked, having anticipated this question. “It would have made you feel awkward. I would have hated doing that to you.”

  “Did you not suspect?” Cassidy asked, thinking she’d been transparent so many times.

  “I hoped, but you would laugh and have a good time with Chandler and Rylan too, and even with Philip. You were very relaxed around everyone in the church family, and that’s not usually what it looks like.”

  Cassidy had to agree. Since knowing that Trace had feelings for her, she blushed easily, something that was not normal for her.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Just the newness of it all. I’ve been holding myself in check for so long. It might take some time to realize my special feelings for Trace are welcome.”

  “They’re welcome,” Meg said, sounding a bit dramatic. “Brad has been asking God to send you our way for a very long time.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Meg explained the way Brad prayed almost every night that God would bring a godly wife for Trace. Meg ended up telling the story and then laughing until she was red in the face because she had managed to shock Cassidy into complete silence.

  And that woman was still thinking about what Meg had said when it was time to help her put on supper. She knew Meg was serious, but such a thing had never occurred to her. Not until Brad prayed for the meal more than an hour after the conversation did she really take it in, and only because he ended his prayer with “And, Father, we have asked You for many years to bring Cass into Trace’s life, and now it’s Your will and timing. We thank You from hearts that are awed by Your love. Amen.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “WHAT’S THIS?” TRACE ASKED when Cassidy handed him a wrapped bundle a little while after supper. They had just finished the dishes and were at the kitchen table.

  “Open it,” Cassidy said quietly and waited, her eyes watchful.

  Trace tore back the paper and began to smile.

  “You made me a shirt?” Trace asked the obvious, looking as pleased as he felt.

  Cassidy nodded, feeling suddenly shy.

  “You could not have made this last night.”

  “No. It was a while ago.”

  Trace nodded, his eyes holding hers until Cassidy forced hers to her lap.

  “How did you know my size?” Trace asked to break the tension between them.

  “I’d helped Meg with Brad’s.”

  “I keep telling you,” he started to tease. “We’re nothing alike.”

  Cassidy only shook her head and laughed at his innocent expression.

  “Thank you,” he said finally.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Trace suddenly leaned back in his chair and studied her. “I never considered this part.”

  “What part of what?” Cassidy asked, smiling at his look of pleasure.

  “The part about having Cassidy Norton as my girl.”

  “What are you talking about?” Cassidy asked on a laugh, partly because he was so funny and partly because she was so delighted to hear him call her his girl.

  “I can have all the new shirts I want.”

  “You think so, do you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Fabric costs money, Trace Holden. Don’t forget that.”

  The change in him was visible. His face lost all its teasing, and he even reached for her hand where it sat on the table.

  “I meant to check with you about that. How are you doing?”

  “I’ll be good for a few months,” she told him sincerely but with his same serious tone. “Then I’ll have to look for work.”

  Or marry me, Trace thought, but he didn’t say it, fairly certain it was too soon for such talk.

  “You’ll keep me informed?” Trace asked instead, wanting to say so much more.

  “
Yes.”

  Trace kept her hand for a little longer. Cassidy could have sat and talked to him all night, but an hour later she said it was time to get home. Trace took her back to town as he always did, but tonight was different. Tonight when she said goodbye, there was no need to keep her eyes from showing the things she’d been feeling for a very long time.

  “Hello, Mrs. Potts,” Cassidy said to that lady on Thursday. “How are you?”

  “That’s just what I’ve been wondering about you. Are you still in business?”

  “Yes, I am. Did you need something?”

  “I needed something yesterday,” that lady stated.

  “Well,” Cassidy replied, deciding to be honest, “business has been very slow, so I took the entire day off.”

  “I need a skirt,” the other woman said next, as though Cassidy should have known this.

  “I have several fabrics you might like. Dark or light?”

  “Dark, I think. Blue or black. I don’t care for brown.”

  Cassidy moved without haste to retrieve the fabric she had in mind, but her heart had started to pound a little fast. She hadn’t expected this. Mrs. Potts was a valuable customer, and to keep her business was a wonderful surprise.

  They worked together for the next thirty minutes. Mrs. Potts was well pleased with her choice and even more pleased to learn she could have the skirt on Saturday.

  “Just so you know, Cassidy,” Mrs. Potts said when they had finished and before heading toward the door, “I never believed any of those things I’d heard. And no one had better spread such rumors in my hearing.”

  Before Cassidy could even thank her, she went out the door. Cassidy thanked God instead, wondering if maybe it was His plan that she keep her business after all.

  “How did it go yesterday with Cass?” Brad wanted to know. They were in the barn together, still enjoying the week off but getting out of Meg’s hair for a while.

  “It was good.”

  “Did you talk about the future?”

  “We talked a little bit about her business, and that was it.”

  “Will she try to keep the business after you’re married?”

  “I doubt it, but we haven’t gotten that far.”

  Brad studied his younger brother. “You’ve gone about this backward, but I think it can still work.”

  “I don’t know how either one of us did it,” Trace admitted, “but the feelings are all there.”

  “How you kept them from each other, your true feelings?” Brad clarified.

  “Yeah. It didn’t happen overnight, but I sure couldn’t tell what she was thinking before I kissed her.”

  “And she would say the same about you.”

  Trace nodded in agreement, but he wasn’t sorry for any time they might have lost. If the truth be told, he wouldn’t change a thing. Cassidy was his friend. He believed she would someday be his wife as well, and in his thinking that was the finest way to go about it.

  Cassidy didn’t have to think about sewing when she sewed. Hiram’s pants were a little bit tricky in places, but for the most part, her mind could drift to other things. It was for this reason that she put the pieces together on Thursday afternoon. She didn’t know why she hadn’t caught it before, but it was astonishingly clear. Neal had beat up Abi Pfister. He hadn’t wanted information about her book but about the townsfolk. It was just the sort of information her brother would have been looking for, and clearly Neal was working with him for that very reason.

  Feeling upset but trying to hold her emotions in check, Cassidy closed the shop thirty minutes early and went to Abi’s house. She wasn’t sure she’d be welcome, but she was going to try. No one answered the door. Cassidy tried for a good five minutes before giving up and going to see Rylan. He answered right away.

  “I need to tell you something,” Cassidy said, wasting no time when he joined her on the porch. “Neal—the man who works with my brother—I’m sure he’s the man who attacked Abi Pfister.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  Cassidy explained her theory. It sounded logical to Rylan save for one aspect.

  “How would your brother and Neal know Abi would have information on the residents of Token Creek?”

  “I didn’t hear from my brother for about a week after our last meeting. I knew he was in town, but he wasn’t coming to see me because I was not helping him. I’m sure he used that time to gather what information he could. With the way Abi goes about her research, she would be a hard person to miss. I’m sure they thought she could tell them who the wealthy folks in town were, and Edson could make his mark.”

  Rylan could not help but agree and asked, “Have you told Abi this?”

  “I was just there and no one answered. I wanted you to know so you can tell her how sorry I am.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I don’t know about that. If I had warned everyone, my brother and Neal wouldn’t have stuck around. If everyone had been onto their game, it would have chased them out of town.”

  “Don’t take this on yourself, Cassie,” Rylan warned in all sincerity. “It’s clear to you now, but you don’t know how it would have all turned out. Neal’s violence could have been turned on you. They would have seen your interference as a good reason for retaliation.”

  Cassidy had not thought of that. Her heart had been heavy, and she’d been full of guilt, but Rylan had suggested an aspect she hadn’t thought of. And she needed to hear it. She had been certain that Edson would not send Neal after her, but in truth, with a man like that there was always a risk.

  “Are you all right?” Rylan asked.

  “Yes. And thank you for what you said. I’ve been a little naive about what Edson is capable of. I think I needed to be more cautious than I was.”

  “I’m going to let Sheriff Kaderly know your theory. I’m sure he’ll agree with you.”

  “And Abi? Will you please tell her, and tell her how sorry I am?”

  “I will, Cassie, but I don’t think you need to apologize. I’m sure she’ll see it the same way.”

  Cassidy thanked him, said she was getting cold, and walked home. She wished Trace were in town. It was the kind of thing she wanted to talk to him about, and not being able to left her feeling a little empty inside. Of course she was learning swiftly that not seeing him and talking to him every day left her feeling that way no matter if she had news to share or not.

  Hiram’s pants were pressed and ready to go. Cassidy had decided to take care of the delivery first thing rather than leave a note on the door, but it also meant opening a little late.

  She walked swiftly toward the Brickel mansion, determined to keep things brief. She was hoping that Halston would come to the door where they could make a swift exchange and the seamstress could be on her way.

  “Good morning,” Hiram said, answering the door, looking so pleased that Cassidy knew he’d been waiting for her.

  “Good morning, Mr. Brickel.”

  “You’re wearing your hair down,” he said. “I like it.”

  “Here are your pants,” Cassidy said pointedly, holding out the stack.

  “Thank you. They look fine, and you can call me Hiram.”

  “I’m glad you’re pleased,” Cassidy said, ignoring the personal remark. “I have to get right back and open the shop.”

  “Isn’t Mrs. Fulbright watching things for you?”

  “She doesn’t work for me anymore,” Cassidy explained.

  Hiram had been so busy trying to think of ways to persuade her to marry him that this fact had escaped him. He didn’t let on about this but realized it did complicate matters.

  “I’ll come when you close this evening. You’ll have time to talk then.”

  “No, I won’t. Trace Holden will be coming for me, and I won’t have time.”

  “Trace is someone special?” Hiram asked, keeping his voice even.

  “Yes,” Cassidy said as she turned toward the door. She wanted to be paid but could see it was going
to take some doing.

  “Is he the reason you won’t marry me?”

  “One of many, yes,” Cassidy said, not beating about the bush. “Please send my payment, Mr. Brickel. Good day.”

  Cassidy was back out the door before he could object. It would not have surprised her to see him later that day, but at the moment she did not have time to worry about it. It was always possible that someone would want to give her business, and for that reason alone she was determined to be open.

  “How are you?” Rylan asked of Abi, sitting across from her in the hotel.

  “I’m fine,” she said in a voice that did not inspire confidence.

  She had finally sent for him. The weather had turned cold, so they could not go for a walk or sit outside. Abi had looked at him strangely when he said he would not come into her house alone, but she had still agreed to meet in public.

  “Did you speak with Sheriff Kaderly?” Rylan asked when Abi stayed quiet.

  “Yes. Why did Cassidy Norton tell on her own brother?”

  “What he did was wrong. Cassidy knows that. She’s very sorry about what happened to you.”

  “She came to the house,” Abi said. “I couldn’t get to the door, but Missy saw her.”

  “She tried to talk to you before she came to me.”

  “And then you went to the sheriff?”

  “Yes.”

  The table fell quiet for a moment, but Rylan didn’t let it last. “Your bruises look like they’re healing.”

  “Some say I deserved it,” Abi said quietly. “Said my book was nothing but a nuisance.”

  “Did that make you mad?”

  “Yes! I work hard. Folks don’t know.”

  “Is your book more important, or are people more important?”

  “What are you talking about? The book is about people.”

  “Some of whom are not even alive or do not live in Token Creek anymore. I think your book is an interesting idea, but you don’t care whom you insult or how you treat folks. That’s not going to endear people to you.”

  “So that’s why I got hurt? God is punishing me?”

  “You got hurt because a sinful man wanted something he thought you had. I do not think you deserved what happened to you, and I don’t think God feels that way either, but He allowed it to happen for a reason, a reason we may never know. At any rate, I hope you won’t ignore that or be so angry about it that you can’t hear anything I’m saying.”