by Lori Wick
Trace assisted her into the wagon, and almost before she could gather her thoughts, they'd pulled under the wooden arch where the Holden Ranch sign hung. Meg must have been watching because both she and Brad were in the yard waiting for her.
Without warning, the events of the day came flooding back to Cassidy. The sight of her friend, standing there in warm welcome, put tears in her eyes. Meg saw them but didn't comment. She put her arms around Cassidy and hugged her close.
"This is where you belong on Saturday nights, Cass," Meg said quietly. "We'll take care of you now."
Cassidy, who had been ready to argue about this plan, could only thank Meg and the men. She had been so confident that God would take care of her, and wasn't He doing that right now?
85
"HowDID IT GO AT THE BANK YESTERDAY?"Jeanette asked Cassidy as soon as she arrived at the church.
Cassidy looked into her eyes for a moment before saying, "Let's just say I'm glad I have steady work."
Jeanette nodded and gave her a swift hug. She was so proud of the younger woman that she could barely speak. Cassidy was not panicked or angry but was facing this setback with calmness and humility.
"Something you want to share with me, Cass?" Trace was suddenly saying into her ear.
Cassidy turned slowly, not aware of how close he'd been when Jeanette questioned her. "Why do you ask that?"
"It just sounded like something was a little bit wrong."
Cassidy didn't realize her chin had come up until Trace reached with one finger and pushed it back into place.
"What's up?" he pressed, and Cassidy thought fast.
"Jeanette was asking me about work."
"At the bank?"
Cassidy mentally scolded Jeanette for checking on her in a public place but was rescued from answering when the music started.
86"We'd better sit down," Cassidy said, and Trace had to smile at the relief in her voice. Whatever was going on, she did not want to talk about it. He would certainly not press her, at least not right then, but the eyes he had trained on her were not missing much.
"We've talked off and on about the fear of the Lord for more than a year now," Rylan said near the end of his sermon. "I've had varying responses concerning that topic, but the one that strikes me the most is about time lost, time wasted. What does a person do who's started to fear the Lord too late? I don't mean too late in the sense that there's no hope, but too late as in time lost.
"My best answer is to look at the life of Paul, who as an adult had his life completely turned around by God. Once Paul understood who Christ was and what He'd done for him on the cross, there was no stopping him. He doubled his efforts. He worked all the harder for the start he had. In the same way we need to double our own efforts. Double our humility, our zeal, wisdom, and devotion.
"Don't be discouraged. Paul wasn't. You talk about wasted time, Paul was born late, but he made up for that, and we can learn from his example. When you read Paul's letters, keep that in mind. Remember that he doubled his efforts.
"Let's pray together. Father God, we thank You for Your Word and the example of men like Paul. Thank You for being the God who lets us start the race late but still win. Help us to go from this place with You on our mind and hearts. Bless each one here and in Your will and time bring us back together next week. In the name of Jesus I pray these things. Amen."
The congregation dispersed, but Brad looked thoughtful. Meg noticed his face and took his hand.
"Are you all right?",
"Yes. I was encouraged by those last words."
"I was remembering my father with his milking," Meg said. "When
87the cows didn't give as much milk as he'd counted on, he used to say there was nothing more he could do. I always felt my mother's helplessness in those times. I don't know what made it come to mind, but not being helpless in this is so freeing."
"Yes, it certainly is," Brad agreed, giving Meg's hand a squeeze. Almost before he was done saying this, Trace came to stand beside them.
"Are we going to Cassie's now?" the younger brother asked. "Did she already head out?" Meg asked.
"She must have because I don't see her."
"Let's go," Brad said as he stood. They had decided to eat at Cassidy's, but Brad knew she would want to do more than she needed. She was like Meg in that way, very caring and a bit too hard on herself.
The three went to Cassidy's and found her working hard. She had pulled her small kitchen table away from the wall so everyone would fit around it and was heating a pot of something on the stove. The contents smelled wonderful, and it became obvious that Cassidy had already planned ahead. While they watched, Cassidy finished mixing cake batter, and poured it into pans that went into the oven of the cookstove.
"I think things are ready," Cassidy said with a smile, wondering why she hadn't done this months ago. "Please sit down."
"We were all ready to help you," Meg said, smiling at her friend as she began to put food on the small table.
"I had things in pretty good shape, and I left right after the service so I could get started on that cake."
"Is it the recipe you gave me?" Meg asked when Cassidy sat down with them.
"Yes, it's my favorite."
"It's our favorite too," Brad said dryly, knowing that when Meg made it, he and Trace tried to eat it all. Meg, thinking the same thing, laughed at him.
The table fell silent then, and for some reason Cassidy felt awkward.
88She wanted to ask one of the men to pray but suddenly felt herself blushing. Trace caught her look and came to the rescue. "Do you want me to pray?"
"Please," Cassidy answered, glad to have an excuse to close her eyes and gather her thoughts. She wasn't sure she caught any of Trace's prayer, but she had managed to pray and calm down before he said amen.
"How's business?" Brad asked Cassidy as they began to eat. Cassidy didn't answer, and Brad found her looking at his brother.
"I didn't put him up to that," Trace said, preferring things to be out in the open.
Cassidy looked apologetic and turned to Brad. "It has its ups and downs, but I make it every month."
"I'm glad,Hesaid, wanting to ask what had just gone on but forcing himself not to.
"Any interesting customers this week?" Meg asked, also wondering if something was wrong but opting to change the subject.
"I had an interesting order," Cassidy said, not wanting to talk about Mrs. Hillard even if she didn't mention her by name. "One woman wants a rather elaborate tablecloth. It's a very creative design-just not very practical."
"Why is that?"
"She wants some quilting and piecework. It would be nice if she was going to use it for a bedspread, but I don't know that I would want people eating off of it."
The men ate quietly while the women discussed this tablecloth. The food was very good, so it wasn't hard work, but when Meg suddenly noticed how empty their plates were, she laughed.
"Not interested in tablecloths, Brad?" she teased.
"I'm interested in ones that are holding food I can eat." Husband and wife shared a smile. Trace was reaching for more bread, and Cassidy pushed the butter a little closer to him before
89checking on her cake pans. She brought the cakes out to cool, and then the conversation shifted to the sermon.
"I had never seen Paul in that light before," Trace shared. "It's motivating."
"And challenging," Brad put in. "There are no excuses."
"And I appreciated his reminder of how much we have to be humble about," Meg added.
"When was that?" Trace asked.
"At the beginning of the sermon. He was talking about how much we need saving, and then mentioned the last verse in Second Corinthians and the way Paul ended his letter with God's grace being upon us."
The conversation roamed to other sermons until they had finished their food. Cassidy cleared the table and started on a frosting for the cake. She didn't get far, however, because Meg settled in the living room,
her feet up, eyes heavy, wanting to know what sewing project Cassidy was working on.
"The same quilt. It's not going that swiftly."
Cassidy brought out the full-size quilt in an amazing array of colors. It was technically a rag quilt, but Cassidy had matched the fabrics so well that she still managed to create a beautiful design.
"Go to sleep," Cassidy said, finally noticing Meg's face. The men had settled in the room, Brad with a newspaper and Trace looking at the bookshelf. Cassidy went back to the small kitchen and kept going on the frosting. It wasn't long before Trace followed her.
"What flavor?"
"What do you think?" Cassidy asked with a smile.
"Chocolate," Trace said with satisfaction, having sprawled at the kitchen table. "So tell me," he went on, "are you sure you're all right?"
Cassidy turned from the bowl to answer. "I am, Trace. Thanks for asking."
"All right," Trace nodded, watching her. "I'll expect you to say so if you're not."
90"I will." Cassidy smiled at him, thinking that his caring was very sweet.
Trace nodded and got slowly to his feet. "I'll get out of your way."
"All right. I'll have this ready in a bit."
Trace went back to the living room to find his brother and sister-in-law dozing. He got comfortable in the chair and continued to think about what he'd heard Jeanette say that morning.
In the kitchen, Cassidy thought about it as well, glad that Trace had not pressed her but almost wishing she could discuss it with him. She dismissed the idea as fanciful, finished the cake, and made coffee. As soon as Meg woke, dessert would be ready.
Jeanette spent a long time thinking about Cassidy and her finances early Monday morning. She wanted to give her some money but not have Cassidy know whom it was from. At the same time, she and Chandler were the only ones who knew about the bank mistake, and Cassidy was sure to figure it out.
Jeanette looked down at the table, her Bible open to Proverbs. She had been reading when she remembered Cassidy, and without much encouragement her brain had been off and running.
Going back to Proverbs, Jeanette told herself that she had to have her own level of trust for Cassidy's life. She also realized she didn't have to dwell on helping her. If she was supposed to do that, something would come to mind.
"How are you?" Chandler asked Cassidy, having come to see her on Tuesday at lunchtime. The two had not talked since Saturday. "I'm fine, Chandler. How are you?"
Chandler looked at her, not sure if she'd misunderstood him or
91not. He'd been tortured by the mistake and figured she must be in the same state.
"I meant," Chandler tried again, "how are you in reference to my news last Saturday?"
"Most of the time, I'm all right. Sometimes I worry."
"I feel as though I didn't express to you how bad I feel. I don't think I said enough."
"I appreciate that, Chandler, but it's not your fault. It could have happened to anyone."
Chandler nodded, but it was hard to accept Cassidy's forgiveness. He knew her finances. She worked hard for what she had and trusted his bank to take care of it. He felt they'd let her down. It wasn't as though they'd taken money from her. It was money she didn't have in the first place, but she'd thought she had it, and that made it a miserable situation.
"Tell me something," Chandler asked, truly wanting to know. "Why are you all right with this?"
Cassidy had to think about that. Some of the answer tied in to her past, and she wasn't going to talk to Chandler about that, but she still wanted to answer his question.
"I try not to be too impressed by money," Cassidy began. "You might wonder what that has to do with anything, but it is part of the answer. I have no guarantees that I'll have business next week. Folks might decide not to order anything, or they might not need to have anything fixed, and then it will be a lean week.
"That's what I counted on the money for. It's not there so I can feel good about myself. I've known people who had money, but you would never know that by talking to them. Jeanette is that way. There are others who have money and make sure everyone knows it. I also know folks who don't have any money but talk about nothing else. I don't appreciate any of that. It's not important enough to talk about.
"I would not mind having some surplus so I can give more
92generously to the church family and others, but outside of my needs, I don't want a lot of money."
Cassidy could feel herself babbling and stopped. She wondered if she'd offended Chandler. After all, he worked with money all the time. She felt her face grow warm and made herself look him in the eye.
"Did any of that make sense?"
"Yes, Cassidy. Thank you for telling me."
Cassidy heard the thoughtfulness in Chandler's voice and wondered what he was really thinking. She wanted to ask him-it was important to her to know-but Mrs. Hibbard chose that moment to come in.
"I'll see you later," Chandler said, and after greeting Mrs. Hibbard went on his way.
"Hello," Cassidy said cautiously to the lady in her shop, not sure if she was up to seeing her.
"Hello, Cassidy. I wish to order a dress."
Cassidy had all she could do not to gawk at her. She kept her features schooled, however, and her voice even. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea, Mrs. Hibbard. I wasn't able to help you before; and nothing has changed in the way I do things."
"Are you saying you don't want my business?" that lady asked in shock.
"I'm saying the way I sew doesn't please you."
"Well." Mrs. Hibbard seemed flustered but did not leave. "I guess I thought you would at least be willing to try again."
Cassidy stared at her and knew what she had to do.
"I'll make another dress for you, Mrs. Hibbard, but there will be conditions. I won't return your money next time. I'll make repairs that are clearly my fault, but I can't afford to make dresses I don't get paid for."
The look on the other woman's face told Cassidy she had hoped
93for that very thing. Her eyes darted around the room a bit before coming back to Cassidy.
"I'll think on it," Mrs. Hibbard said after a moment.
Cassidy nodded and was not given time to say anything more. Mrs. Hibbard turned and left without a word.
"Shame on you, Mrs. Hibbard," Cassidy spoke softly into the empty shop. "You're old enough to know better."
Only just remembering to pray for that lady, Cassidy went back to her sewing machine. She was very thankful when the next customer was Mrs. Potts. Not only was she kind and fun to work for, the order she left with Cassidy was a large one.
"This looks great," Cassidy said sincerely to Meg on Wednesday afternoon, studying the careful handwork on the shirt she was making for Brad. "He's going to be pleased."
"I want to ask you a favor."
"Okay."
"Can you put the collar and cuffs on?"
"I can, Meg, but you don't need me."
"Oh, Cassie," Meg said with a laugh, trying to persuade her friend. Cassidy was not falling for it, seeing that Meg was doing a fine job. But then Meg sealed the deal.
"I'm going to have this baby anytime now, and I don't have a sewing machine."
Cassidy had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "That was pathetic. You know that, don't you?" she asked.
"Yes, but did it work?"
Cassidy couldn't deny her. She agreed to finish the shirt if Meg didn't need it before next week. The women gave up on sewing and went to the kitchen.
s!
94"Do you think you still remember how to shoot?" Trace asked Cassidy on the way back to town. Both were on horseback. The livery had rented the buggy Cassidy usually took, so this time she simply requested a horse.
"I think so," she spoke on a laugh. "My arms ached for days, I hope you realize."
"You worked hard."
"I didn't have a choice. My teacher was impossible, very demanding and strict."
Trace turned to look at her
, but Cassidy kept her eyes to the front and fought a smile.
"It's terrible," she went on conversationally. "I have to make a living with my hands and arms, and then on my day off I'm expected to work like that."
"Is that right?" Trace spoke up.
"Um hm."
"That's not the way I remember it."
"Well, of course not. You're older than I am. Your memory is failing."
Trace could not hold his laughter, and Cassidy joined him, looking very pleased to have momentarily gotten the upper hand.
"Oh!" Cassidy exclaimed, "your aunt's birthday is coming up. Do you know of anything special I could get her?"
"You're asking me? I think Meg might be your best bet on that." "You must have some idea," Cassidy pressed him. "I could make her something, but that seems rather obvious."
"How so?"
"I don't know. I thought it would be more fun to come up with something original."
Trace's face was fully turned to her now.
"And you think /'m the one to come up with an idea like that?" Cassidy bit her lip but still ended up laughing. His face was so horrified she couldn't help herself.
95"All right," Cassidy said, trying a new tack. "What did you give her last year?"
"The same thing I give her every year, a hug and a kiss." "What did Meg give her? Do you remember?"
"No."
"Oh, that's right, your age and memory are going."
Trace smiled before he could catch himself. "You're rather impertinent, Miss Norton. I hope you know that."
Cassidy only laughed and continued to tease him about his aunt's birthday gift. They laughed all the way back to town. Not until Trace had seen her back to her apartment did Cassidy realize she still didn't have an idea for Jeanette's birthday.
The following Sunday the Token Creek church family celebrated the Fourth of July with the townsfolk. This year it was on a Sunday, so they were all running a bit late after the service but were no less welcome. Tables had been put along the creek where it was cooler for the potluck.
Cassidy came with her basket of goods to share, set her dishes on the table with all the other offerings, and turned to find Jessie Wheeler at a table. Her daughters were with her. Cassidy joined them and was most welcome.
