by Faye Adams
Brett wiped his face with the damp shirt. "I can't let you do that, Cass," he said.
"I know."
"So what’s next?"
"I rebuild," she said. "I've done it before," she reminded him.
"You have enough money to keep doing that?"
"My father left a good chunk of money in the bank when he was killed. It was the money he was going to use to buy a bigger herd. I only used a small part of it to build this house. I've more than made up for that in the interest earned on the balance during the last five years. I did make a dent in it when I ordered the barbed wire, but I've still got plenty. And there's always Uncle Darby's mine," she said in a lighter tone.
"Your uncle's mine?"
"Yes. It's called Darby's Dream, and that's all it's ever really been. Just a dream. Oh, Uncle Darby worked it for years. The claim is at the northernmost tip of our land, just at the base of those mountains," she pointed toward the dark shadows against the horizon in the distance, "and he's even gotten a little gold out of it, but only enough to scrape by."
"A gold mine?"
She nodded. "Uncle Darby's certain that the mother lode is up there, but he's never found it." She sighed. "And his heart's not in it any more. Sometimes I see him staring off toward the mountains and I can tell what he's thinking."
"He wants to go back up there."
"No," she said.
"'Why not?"
Cass's eyes saddened. "He was working the mine for us."
Brett looked questioningly at her.
"For our family," she explained, "He wanted to make us all rich, so my father wouldn't have to work so hard ranching. He used to tell us that when he struck it rich he'd send the boys to college and Becky and me to finishing school."
"Becky?"
"My little sister. We used to stay awake some nights, giggling over how wonderful it was going to be when we were rich. After . . . well . . . Uncle Darby changed. He began drinking a lot. There just didn't seem to be any point to mining anymore."
Brett took a step forward and put his arms around her. Every time she talked about her family he was astounded by how much she'd lost. It was a miracle she was sane.
Chapter Thirteen
When Cass awoke the next morning she could smell the acrid scent of smoldering wood in the air. "Damn," she breathed. Lying in bed, she thought about what course of action she should take next. Listening to Soony in the kitchen, she remembered Brett's words of the night before. What if fire had been set to the house instead of the barn? What if her uncle or Soony had been injured or killed? Pushing these grim thoughts from her mind, she sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "I might as well get up," she said out loud. "I've got a lot to do today."
A few minutes later she entered the living room and saw that everyone was already seated around the table. "Eating without me?" she asked.
Brett turned in his chair and looked at her, his eyes glowing warmly. "Good morning. I told Soony to let you sleep. I figured you needed your rest after last night."
"I'm fine. And I'm starving," she answered him.
"Alright. We're having eggs this morning," he said, grinning.
"I said Pork Chop would be grateful," Soony said, beaming.
"You mean?"
"Yep. These are thank-you eggs from Pork Chop," said Brett, shoveling a large spoonful of scrambled eggs from the serving bowl to his plate.
"I don't believe it," murmured Cass, pulling out her chair, her eyes wide with wonder. Sitting down, she filled her plate and then her stomach.
"What are you going to do about the barn?" Darby asked as he sipped from his coffee cup a while later.
“I'll clean up the mess, then build a new one," Cass answered, pushing her now empty plate away from her and reaching for the sugar bowl to sweeten her coffee. "In fact, I think I'll go into town today and order the wood." She looked down at the table. Her expression saddened.
"What is it, Cass?" Brett asked.
"I was just remembering. Right after my family was killed the townspeople helped us build this house," she glanced at her uncle. "Remember, Uncle Darby? Then, a month or two later, they gave us a barn raising, although I have to admit I wasn't much fun to be around back then." She set her cup down and rubbed her eyes with her fingers. "I doubt anyone would give me a barn raising now."
“I don't know, Cass. Sometimes people can surprise you," Brett offered.
Cass let out a short, bitter laugh. "Not in my case." She pushed herself away from the table. "Oh, well," she said with a sigh, "there's no point in worrying about it. I'll hire whatever help I need to put up the barn." She walked to the pegs beside the door and pulled down her gun belts. Buckling them on, and tying their leather straps around her thighs, she looked at Brett. "I'm going to town. Are you going to come with me or stay here?"
"I'm going with you," he answered, rising from the table. "Just give me a minute." He stepped outside and headed for the back of the house.
"Uncle Darby, you and Soony take care while we're gone," she told him as he stood up and stretched.
"I think we'll go with you, if you don't mind," Darby said.
Cass grinned at him. "Of course I don't mind. I'm glad you're coming."
Soony smiled. "I need supplies for the kitchen."
"I'll go hitch up the wagon," she offered, turning toward the door.
"I'll do the dishes," said Soony.
An hour later they were riding into town, Darby and Soony in the wagon, Brett and Cass riding along on horseback.
"Things look pretty quiet here today," observed Cass.
"It's Sunday," remarked Darby. "Folks must still be in church."
Cass's eyes narrowed as she got an idea. "We're going to church,” she announced.
"We're what?" asked Darby. "But we haven't gone to church since ... I don't know when."
“We're going this morning," she said firmly.
"What are you up to, Cass?" Brett asked, suspiciously.
"I just feel that I need a little spiritual guidance this morning," she answered.
"Why don't I believe you?" he asked.
Cass shrugged innocently.
Leading the way to the church, she let Darby park the wagon, then dismounted and tied her horse to one of the side rails. She watched as Brett did the same. Moments later she led the way into the church itself, walking up the aisle as far as she could, looking for seats. She heard the murmurs of disapproval as she passed. It was the reaction she expected and, today, wanted. She'd worn her trousers and guns into the church, and she meant business.
Cass sat down in the third pew from the front. Darby and Soony sat next to her on one side, Brett on the other. As she settled herself, she looked at the minister, who was just finishing his sermon. He was watching her, and she could read the displeasure in his eyes at her late arrival. She smiled up at him and winked, causing him to look away.
After she'd lost the minister's attention, she scanned the front pews, searching for Hunt Tylo's gray head among the other churchgoers. He was sitting in his usual spot, just in front of the pulpit. She was surprised to see Ramsey sitting next to his father. If she remembered correctly, Ramsey had seldom attended church as a young man, She couldn't see his face, and wondered how his nose was doing.
Brett watched Cass's eyes as she sat next to him. He noticed how she searched out Tylo, and anticipated trouble. Nudging her with his elbow, he frowned a warning at her.
Cass smiled innocently at Brett and looked back up at the minister. He'd once again begun to stare crossly at her as he sermonized. She grinned defiantly and waited.
"Let's all rise and sing," Reverend Wallace told the congregation. "Turn in your hymnals to number twenty-seven."
Cass sang loudly, though her voice was less than lovely. She smiled the entire time she sang.
Brett sang along, wondering what she was up to.
The song ended and all sat down. Reverend Wallace gave a closing prayer, then looked directly at Cass. "Befo
re we all leave today, I would like to address the congregation."
Cass raised her chin and met his stare.
"It seems," began Wallace, "that my instructions are being ignored."
Whispers floated through the crowd.
"A while back I had to ask one of you to dress properly when attending my church. That person has disregarded my wishes and shown up today wearing guns. It would seem…"
"Excuse me, Reverend Wallace," Cass interrupted, standing up.
Shocked silence filled the room.
Wallace glared down at her. "Yes, Cassidy?"
"Let's get to the point. I'm the person you are referring to. Everybody knows it, so why try to be subtle?"
"Well . . . Cassidy . . ." stammered the flustered minister.
"I know you don't want me wearing guns into your church, but I want the people of Twisted Creek to be aware of what's going on out at my place." She turned to face the crowd. “Someone did some damage out at my ranch last night." She heard several whispers. "Don't worry," she said rather sarcastically" "As you can see, I'm fine. We're all fine." She gestured with her hand toward Darby, Soony, and Brett. "I know how concerned some of you are about my welfare." She turned her head and looked directly at Hunt Tylo, glancing for just a second at Ramsey's broken face and blackened eyes, then back at his father. "I know who's responsible for the damage, and I wanted to let you all know what's going on, and that I intend to shoot to kill anyone who comes around my place without good cause."
"What about the cattle?" someone asked from the back of the room.
Cass swung her gaze back to the crowd. "I said, without good cause. Anyone tending cattle that have wandered onto my property will be safe." Her eyes scanned the congregation again, then met the minister's. "I won't be back to church until I can come without my guns, and that won't be until this trouble has ended once and for all. Good-bye, Reverend 'Wallace." She stepped past Brett out into the center aisle. "Let's go," she said, looking back at Darby and Soony, then at Brett. She smiled when they rose to follow her.
Brett admired her back as she led the way out of the church. She hadn't started trouble, as he'd feared she might. She'd just chosen a place where most of the town would be gathered at once to get her point across. She'd done it very well.
"I guess that takes care of that," she announced as she half jumped down the church steps. "Now we'll wait here to see what comments are made as everyone leaves,"
In only minutes people began pouring out of the double doors of the church. Several walked to where Darby was sitting on the wagon and expressed their condolences about the trouble. A few even asked if there was anything they could do to help.
Cass waited.
Ramsey exited the church and glared his hatred at Brett. His nose felt as though it was permanently closed, making eating and sleeping almost impossible, and both of his eyes were nearly swollen shut and turning several different and hideous shades of purple, green, and yellow. He vowed for the millionth time since Brett had punched him to make the lawman pay a hundredfold for what he'd done. It galled him now that the man stood so close to Cass. Brett's interference was making it more difficult for him to carry out his plans for her.
"Ramsey, look at you,” Cass said with sympathy now that she could get a good look at him.
"I'm fine," he said, stepping closer to her.
"You don't look fine. Does it hurt much?" she asked.
He gave Brett a glowering glance of pure hatred. "Not much." It took the pain away some to think about how he was going to make the marshal suffer. "Not much," he repeated, looking back at Cass. "What happened out at your place, Cass?" he asked.
Glancing around her, she leaned forward and quietly whispered, "Someone burned our barn last night."
"No! Who would do such a thing?"
Cass shrugged. "I’ll find out eventually."
"I'm sure you will," he assured her.
"Ramsey, are you ready to go now?" Hunt asked, walking over to join them.
"Yes, Father."
"I heard Darby say your barn was burned, Cassidy. I warned you there might be trouble," Hunt said with no sympathy in his voice.
"Yes, you did," she answered. "Do you think there might be even more?" she asked false sweetness dripping from her voice.
"Probably."
"Thanks for the warning. Now I'll know to keep watching for you."
Hunt Laughed. "You're single-minded. I gotta give you that." He began walking away.
"It's called persistence, Tylo. I always finish what I start," she called after him.
"I've got to go with my father in the buggy, Cass," Ramsey said. "I can't ride a horse yet." He pointed to his nose.
Cass glanced back to Ramsey and nodded.
Ramsey tipped his hat to her, and walked after his father.
"Looks pretty good, if you ask me,” said Brett as soon as Ramsey had left. "I should have hit him harder."
"Brett, that's a horrible thing to say,,' she scolded.
"I'm honest."
“You're despicable," she said.
He only grinned at her intended insult.
“Cass!" Darby called to her excitedly as he approached.
"What is it, Uncle?" she asked, concerned by his agitated state.
"'We're having a barn-raising," he said, a giant smile creasing his face,
"We’re what?"
"Some of the folks want to give us a barn raising," he repeated.
"They do?" Cass said incredulously.
Brett leaned over to her and whispered in her ear. “It seems you're not so hated as you think."
She turned and gave him a doubting look. "They’re doing it for Uncle Darby," she said.
Darby shook his head. "Mrs. Thompson and Mrs. Wettle think it's real sad, what you went through. They said they’ll help Soony plan the food. Of course the womenfolk always bring too much food to these things. We'll end up eating leftovers for a month," he said as though he was complaining, but his face was lit up like a Christmas tree.
Cass smiled at her uncle. This was the first time he'd seemed so happy in a long time. "I guess I'd better go order the lumber so we can give the folks a date, eh?”
Darby nodded, dancing from one foot to the other.
Brett was glad the townspeople had decided to help out, even if it was mostly because of Darby. "I'm going to go put my name on the ballot," he said. "I want to live in this town for a long time."
Cass smiled at him, then looked at Soony. "Let's go do our shopping. Uncle, will you be going to the Best Bet?” she asked, knowing her uncle visited the saloon whenever he came to town.
"No, I'll go with Brett." He turned to look at the marshal. "Is that okay?"
"Sure," Brett said happily,
Cass stood in pleased surprise for a moment. Darby's drinking had slowed so much lately that the bottle she'd purchased the day she met Brett still had two inches of amber liquid in its bottom. "We'll see you in a few minutes, then," she called after them as they left.
Soony took his time with the shopping. He always did. It seemed to give him great pleasure to decide whether he needed one or two pounds of certain things. Cass could never figure out whether or not he really didn't know how much they needed or whether he thought his job became more important if he made it look difficult. She'd told him once to order two pounds of everything and be done with it. He'd rolled his eyes, clucked his tongue, and said one word: "Weevils." Since then she'd let him take his time.
Today, after ordering her lumber, she sat in a corner and chewed on a peppermint stick she'd purchased with a penny. As she sat there thinking, she realized that if it weren't for the cloud of revenge that hung perpetually over her heart, she'd be very happy. The thought struck her like a physical blow. She hadn't thought about happiness, or her right to it, since her family had been killed.
The sound of boot heels on the wooden sidewalk outside caused her to look up from her reverie. It was Brett, coming back after signing up to run for sheri
ff, and as he entered and spied her in the corner, she realized he was the reason her life had become more pleasant. "Hello," she said softly.
"Hello yourself. You look like the cat who swallowed the canary," he said, his heart taking a sudden lurch at the tone of her voice.
"Do I?"' She giggled.
Brett filled with warmth at the sight of Cass's happy smile. He wished she always looked like this, her eyes free of the pall of death forever.
"Where's Uncle Darby?" she asked.
"Did you know Mrs. Wettle is a widow?" Brett asked.
"Yes."
Brett grinned. “She cornered your uncle to discuss the barn raising, but I think she has other things on her mind," he told her, his grin widening.
"But Mrs. Wettle is old enough to be my grandmother!" exclaimed Cass.
"So's your uncle."
Cass snorted her laughter. "Imagine that. Does he seem interested in her?"
"He was standing awfully straight when I left him."
"Good for him," she said"
"That's what I thought," Brett agreed.
"I’m all done now," said Soony, joining them. "Where is Mr. Darby?"
Cass and Brett both started laughing. "He's talking to a friend," Cass informed him after a moment.
Soony nodded, obviously bewildered about why this information was so funny. "Let's go home now," he said.
Cass stood up, popping the last of her peppermint into her mouth. "Home it is," she said.
The ride back to the ranch was merry. Cass teased her uncle unmercifully about Mrs. Wettle, and Darby called Brett a traitor for telling on him.
The evening came with a beautiful sunset. The sky turned to a brilliant orange, then pink, and then in a last defiant show of color, it glowed a deep lavender before giving in to the soft caress of the night. Cass stared at the sky in wonder. Sunset was her favorite time of day.
Brett sat next to her in one of the chairs they'd carried outside to enjoy the sunset and drink their after-dinner coffee. He watched the play of emotions on her face. He saw the contentment there. If only she'd give up her quest for revenge everything could be perfect. Every night could be like this. "Cass?" he said softly.
"Mmmm?" she responded lazily.
