Place to Belong, a

by Lauraine Snelling

  “They’d have to leave earlier. Hudsons ride over too. I think John doesn’t really want to drive the box.”

  In a way, Ransom admired that his little sister was thoughtful toward her schoolmates. “But he’s the oldest now that his brother is gone. I’d say he’s stuck with the job.”

  She nodded. “I don’t mind riding over. I’d rather ride all the way in, but this is warmer and easier on Biscuit.” She looked to Lucas. “Did you guys ever ride in the box?”

  “Didn’t have the choice. They built the box after we were out of school. Jenna’s pa came up with the idea.” Lucas nodded when Cassie asked if he wanted a refill on his coffee.

  Arnett chimed in, “My wife taught our children when they was real small. Then they built the school in Argus.”

  “Why don’t you come drive the wagon while I pitch the hay out?” Ransom suggested to Arnett after they finished breakfast. “Then we can take a load of wood and supplies up to the mine. You have something else planned, Lucas?”

  “Nope, but if we’re going to work up there, we do need plenty of supplies. Long as that storm holds off.”

  The three men dressed for the cold and headed to the barn.

  Can animals be obviously eager when they’re just standing there looking? It sure seems like they can. Every eye watched and every ear pricked forward as the hay wagon approached the gate. Every hoof hurried over, the shaggy animals surrounding the wagon as the men forked out all the hay. Ransom felt something deeply satisfying about meeting such primal needs in the animals under his care. George swung his massive head toward one of the longhorns. She quickly found another place to eat.

  The three drove back to the house and started loading firewood. The wind kicked up, but they ignored the cold and drove on up to the mine, where they tossed the wood into a somewhat haphazard pile inside the mouth of the mine. On the way over to the sawmill, they swung by the cabin to ask Micah if he would come help load the timbers.

  With four of them working, the job went fast. That Micah certainly didn’t sit around exploring his fingernails. He was a fine worker. They took two loads of the cut timbers and, backing the wagon in as far as it would go, stacked the timbers in piles, ready for restoring the mine. On their way back for another load, the snow swirled and dipped, but still the main storm held off.

  “You must be holding your mouth just right or something, because those clouds haven’t opened up and dumped all over us,” Lucas teased his brother.

  “I guess. Thought sure it would hit before now.” They unloaded the third load before the snow grew thick enough to cut visibility. “It’s dinnertime, so Micah, you want to come eat at the house or—?”

  “Thanks, but I’ll go back to the cabin. If you decide to continue—”

  “I doubt it. Once this starts it’ll probably snow all night. You got all you need up there?”

  “Plenty of wood, more that I could split if we need it. Thanks for asking.” Micah strode off to the cabin, and the others drove down to back the wagon into the barn again and unharness the horses. When the three entered the kitchen, the smell of fresh bread and cinnamon rolls greeted them.

  Ransom inhaled deeply, savored the scent for a moment, and smiled at his mother. “Now, that is a smell worth driving miles for. Surprised we didn’t get it clear out to the barn.” He hung his coat, muffler, and hat on the tree by the door.

  “Dinner will be ready shortly. Lucas, before you take your coat off, could you bring in some more firewood?” Mavis asked.

  “Thought the woodboxes were my job,” Arnett said, pulling on his jacket. “You need more for the fireplace too?”

  “I don’t know. We’ve not been in there today.” Mavis opened the oven door to pull out a pan of cookies. “Cassie, do you want to take care of these while I check on the dumplings?”

  Arnett was a just as willing a worker as Micah, be it a tad slower. And just as eager to help, Ransom noted. The old fellow slipped into his coat without buttoning it, popped into the front room, and came popping back out, then slammed out the back door. He soon returned with two carriers of wood stacked deep. He was obviously nearly as strong as he used to be.

  “Mavis, is that chicken and dumplings I smell?” Arnett dumped the split wood from one carrier into the kitchen box and carried the second to the big room fireplace.

  “It is. That old hen who figured she didn’t need to lay any more eggs is now our dinner. Better we eat her than she dies of old age.”

  Ransom watched as Cassie slid the cookies off the sheet and filled the cookie jar with the cooled ones. She and his mother seemed to work together like they’d been doing so for years. He stepped up behind her and snatched one of the still-warm cookies. “Thanks.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I suppose now Lucas will want one too.” She offered him a cookie on the end of the pancake turner. Lucas did not refuse it.

  “What about me?” Arnett hung his coat up and grinned at her when she handed him a cookie. “Did you bake these, girl?”

  She nodded. “Applesauce and raisins in them. I thought to frost them too, but we didn’t get that far. Today I learned how to churn and wash butter. That old churn takes some arm strength to get the butter to turn.”

  “Good for your arm?” Lucas asked.

  “I guess.” Cassie rubbed her upper arm. “Maybe I should be the one hauling in the wood.”

  “Then what would I do?” Arnett grinned at her as he sneaked another cookie.

  Ransom watched the interchange, contentment somewhere down in his middle. He caught the way Lucas smiled at Cassie. Perhaps this really was the way things should go. The thought had been floating in and out of his mind all day. He needed to talk with Lucas.

  After dinner, with the snow beginning to pile up, he got into his coat and gloves. “Come on, Lucas, we better get the rope strung to the barn in case this turns into a blizzard. I think we’ll milk early too, just in case.”

  Arnett stood. “Mavis, you got anything for the chickens?”

  “There by the back door. I’d give them some of that sour milk by the pigs too. They really go for that.”

  “No wonder Pa used to do this before the snow hit,” Lucas grumbled.

  Ransom nodded. They should have done this before the ground froze so hard, he thought as the wind buffeted them, pelting the snow against their faces so hard it stung. He and Lucas took turns pounding in the posts with the sledgehammer. The old rope they always used for this was fraying a little. He cut out and reknotted one length that had nearly parted. By the time the rope was strung, they were both sweating under their jackets.

  At last they stepped into the barn and together pulled against the door to get it closed. Immediately the roar of the wind subdued to a rumble. Inside, the barn was just as cold as the outside air, but without wind it seemed beckoningly warm. Ransom lit one of the lanterns and, hanging it on a post, climbed the ladder into the haymow. They forked the hay down and filled the wagon for the next morning’s feeding. Lucas milked the cow. Ransom cleaned the manure from the gutter and tossed straw down for bedding. He fed the horses and cleaned their stalls too.

  Gretchen brought her horse in to unsaddle him. “You already milked?”

  “I did. You take this on up to the well house while we finish up here.” Lucas handed her the bucket. “You want Biscuit kept in the barn or let out?”

  “Up to you.” She pushed open the door. “In the barn. It’s getting bad out here.”

  The storm raged on through supper and screamed around the eaves after they moved into the big room. The fire snapped and danced its defiance against the storm, creating its own music. The dogs lay in front of the fire, Othello and Benny by now fast friends.

  “We need to run a rope to the bunkhouse too,” Lucas said as he got out his button-making supplies. “And to the well house.”

  Ransom nodded. This was the kind of thing their pa had always been ready with. Ransom should have attended to the safety ropes long before this. But when he thought about
the day, he felt a smile inside. They had actually hauled supplies and wood up to the mine, and no one had complained. It was a shame they weren’t already up there. A storm like this couldn’t make any difference to the work underground.

  He wanted to talk to Lucas, but he couldn’t say what he had to say with the others around, especially Cassie. So what could he do?

  “Lucas.”

  His brother looked up.

  Ransom nodded toward the kitchen. “Come on.”

  “What do you need?” Lucas asked once they stood over by the sink.

  “I’ve got something I’ve been wanting to tell you.” Ransom sucked in a breath. This was harder than when he’d rehearsed it in his head. “I want to make an apology.”

  Lucas started to say something, and Ransom held up his hand. “Let me finish please. I’ve got to tell you that I think I made a mistake.”

  Lucas’s eyebrows rose. He stared.

  “I know, it’s probably not the first or the last, but I want you to know that I give you my blessing to marry Cassie. Looks to me like you really do love her, and I do want you to be happy. Her too. So whatever you need me to do, you let me know. All right?” He stuck out his hand.

  Lucas shook his brother’s hand, that inscrutable gaze remaining on his face. “Thank you. This means a lot to me. I’m . . . uh, I’m surprised.”

  “I know, me too.” Ransom didn’t quite understand. Lucas ought to be real happy. Instead, he just stood there looking . . . looking how? Overawed. Dumbstruck. Confused. Why not happy? “Let’s take a plate of cookies back in with us. Maybe someone wants a cup of coffee. I know I do.”

  “Forget the cookies, let’s take cinnamon rolls.”

  That night as he waited for sleep, Ransom found himself thinking too much again. Sure hope I made the right decision. Lucas better take real good care of her!

  His eyes popped open. Now, where did that come from?

  8

  Don’t worry about it, Cassie. No one expects presents. We all make most of ours.”

  “I know, but I’ve never had people like this to give presents to. In years past, I bought something for the few people I exchanged with. My father used to give something to everyone in the show.” Cassie shrugged. “I’ve not had family before . . . well, not for a long time.”

  Mavis reached out and hugged the girl who had already taken a daughter’s place in her heart. “Ah, Cassie. We live simply here, and we love sharing all that we have. I understand wanting to do something, so let’s think what you can do.”

  “Knitting isn’t one.” Cassie rolled her eyes.

  Mavis chuckled. “I can see that you have difficulties with that, but those last rows are looking better and better.” She paused. “It really concerns you, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s set you up with some projects. I have all sorts of fabric scraps and a lifetime supply of embroidery floss. We’ll think of some nice things.”

  “Thank you, Mavis!”

  Mavis checked the ham that was roasting for dinner. “I think I’ll put some rhubarb jelly on that ham. For some reason that sounds mighty good about now.”

  “Rhubarb jelly?”

  “I know, it sounds strange but it’s good. If you want to start peeling the potatoes, Cassie, we’ll mash them for dinner.”

  “The men will be here for dinner?”

  “Ransom said so. He figured they’d be done hauling the hay and that other load of wood by then. They switched the wagon bed from wheels to runners.” She glanced out the window above the sink. “That snow sure makes a glorious vista out there.”

  The storm had dumped nearly a foot of snow before it left to snow somewhere else, leaving a pristine world that now glittered in the sunshine.

  “When the boys were young they would take the toboggan up on the hill in front of the cabin, and we’d slide down. Lucas brought out one of the horses one year to pull the toboggan back up the hill and then we let the horse pull us up into the woods. I’ll never forget that day. It was the winter after their father died, and while they thought they were pretty grown up to be sledding, they wanted to make sure Gretchen got to do all the things they had done when younger. All of us know how to ski too. Have you ever skied?”

  Cassie shook her head. “We never wintered where there was snow. I guess that is why I am so enthralled with seeing the world so different. Look how the branches on that pine tree bend down. Is snow that heavy?”

  “You can be sure it is. If the snow gets really deep, we’ve had to shovel off the roof so it doesn’t damage it.”

  “But it looks so fluffy and light.”

  “Let’s get the dinner ready, and then I’ll give you your first lesson in skiing. That gentle slope between the house and the barn is ideal for a beginner.”

  “You think I can learn how?”

  “As graceful as you are on horseback, you’ll be a natural. We’ll set the potatoes to simmer and green beans with bacon and onions the same. When we see them coming we can rush back in and finish up. You’ll be schussing down the big hill before you know it.”

  Half an hour later, Mavis was waxing the two pairs of skis she’d taken down from under the eaves on the front porch.

  “Why are you doing that?”

  “So they glide better, and it keeps the snow from sticking to them. Usually Ransom does this one evening in front of the fire. He does a better job than I am doing.” She leaned the pair against the wall and started on the next. “This is one of those things that make wearing pants a great idea. Getting up after you fall down in skirts is much more difficult.” When she finished, she set the skis on top of the snow at the bottom of the steps.

  Othello bounded across the snow, his doggy grin making both of the women smile. He just about wagged his tail off and tossed snow like a shovel with his nose. When Cassie picked up a handful and tossed it at him, he leaped to catch it and then looked bewildered when he had nothing. He looked around, searching for his catch.

  Cassie laughed and threw more, to have the same thing happen again.

  Mavis laughed with her. “Okay, hang on to me and step onto the skis with your feet in the marked places.” She bent down and buckled the ski straps over Cassie’s boots and then handed her two sticks. “One for each hand, these are ski poles to help with your balance. Let me show you.” She strapped on the other pair and, digging the poles into the snow, strode or rather slid off. She looked over her shoulder. “See how easy it is? Just like walking, but you push with your feet.”

  Cassie copied what Mavis had done and laughed with delight when the skis slid smoothly forward.

  “Now keep your balance forward over the tops of the skis, or they’ll slide away and leave you on your fanny in the snow.”

  Cassie slid up beside her.

  “Good. Now we’ll be going down this slope, and you can get dumped easily because skis don’t know when to slow down. You can be flying after just a few feet.” Mavis pushed off and picked up speed, demonstrating. “You can slow your skis by pointing your toes in. Like this. Tips close together, tails wide apart. It’s called the snowplow. The skis do what your feet tell them. You will have more control if you stay slow. But if the skis cross, you’ll fall.” She slid to a halt.

  She started downhill again. “Once you get used to your skis, you can stop like this.” She flipped both tails to one side, and immediately she was parallel to the slope.

  “So much to think about,” Cassie muttered. She gingerly pushed her right foot forward.

  “Keep your feet together.”

  “Oh.” She slid the left up and then pushed off like she’d seen Mavis do. The ski went forward and she fell back, flailing arms and poles and down with an oof! Othello ran over, tail bannering, tongue lolling, licked her face, pressed his cold nose to her cheek, and licked again. Then he planted both front feet on her chest and barked at her.

  “Get away, you big goof!” She pushed at him, laughing and trying to sit up at the same time.<
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  Mavis used a wide-angled step to move back up the hill and slid to a stop beside her. “That’s why you learn to snowplow like I told you and keep your weight forward.” She extended a hand to help her up, but when Cassie tried to stand, her skis took off again.

  “Okay.” Mavis dropped her hand and stood parallel in front of her. “I’m blocking the motion now. See if you can use your poles to stand up, and we’ll start again.”

  After finally making it to the bottom, Cassie learned how to sidestep back up the hill and snowplow down, this time without falling. She let out a shout when she made it to the bottom still standing. “Wouldn’t it be easier to take off the skis and walk back up the hill?”

  “Here it would, but when the snow is deeper and the hill steeper, you need to be able to get up and down the slopes without walking, since skis keep you on top of the snow and feet will break through, up to your knees or deeper. Snow is beautiful but snow is also dangerous.”

  Mavis shaded her eyes with her mittened hand. “Here they come. Your first lesson is finished, and you did very well. I thought you would be a natural skier.” They sidestepped back up to the porch, leaned their skis against the wall, and with Cassie wearing a grin as wide as her face, returned to getting dinner on the table.

  “From the looks of those ski tracks, someone took a fall or two,” Ransom said as he hung up his jacket.

  “Cassie’s first time on skis. She did very well.”

  Lucas turned to look at her. “You’ve never skied before?”

  “I’ve never seen snow like this before. The worst I’ve seen was the blizzard in October. Here, the snow goes on forever. And look at the trees; they are so beautiful.”

  Nodding, Lucas hung up his hat. “Snow does make the world look all new. Covers up the bad stuff, the drab, the worn-out look of fall ending.”

  Mavis looked at her son. “Lucas, that was lovely. You never cease to amaze me.”

  “Amuse me is more like it,” Arnett added. “Had me laughing all the way down the hill.”

  “Any time you want to go skiing on the big slopes, let me know. Skiing is a great way to get around in the winter. Do you think Micah skis?”