by Lori Wick
"Just say the word," Cassidy said in a singsong voice, "and I'll move out to take care of her."
"But how does that allowmeto play with her all the time?" Meg asked.
"Oh!" Cassidy said in surprise, realizing she'd gotten it all wrong.
The friends looked at each other and laughed. The noise startled Savanna, which just gave Cassidy a reason to hold her closer, rubbing her nose into the baby's soft cheek.
"I saw your Aunt Patience on Monday," Cassidy remembered. "She said she was coming out again."
"She came for the whole morning yesterday," Meg said. "We had such fun and got so much done. Savanna slept a lot, and that was helpful."
"I would be torn," Cassidy said. "I would know I had things to get
done, but if Savanna was awake, I would want to hold her." "I even hold her when she's asleep," Meg admitted softly. "How do the men like having her around?"
Meg smiled. "Brad was just complaining that he hadn't held her that much. If Trace so much as hears a sound out of her, he's got her in his arms."
Cassidy smiled. This was not a side of Trace she had seen. It wasn't impossible to imagine-he was a caring man-but it still gave Cassidy pause.
"Oh!" Meg suddenly said. "I just remembered something."
Cassidy watched the new mother as she rose from the sofa and moved toward the kitchen. She returned carrying the smallest pair of boots Cassidy had ever seen.
"Where did you get those?"
120"Trace came home with them. Aren't they amazing?" "They're so little!" Cassidy exclaimed, taking one in her hand. "They are, but Savanna won't wear them for ages. Her feet are
tiny."
Before Cassidy could answer, the women heard the back door open. Brad came in long enough to tell Meg that their neighbor was in need of some help. Bart Carlisle, who owned the next ranch up the road was short two men, and both Brad and Trace were headed out to give him a hand. They planned to be back for supper, and in a very short time the women went back to talking to and about Savanna. They never did get to that day's sewing project.
The second Sunday in August finally arrived. Rylan was awake early, feeling a little odd not to have a sermon on his mind. Could five years really have passed so swiftly? Rylan lay in bed, the day already feeling warm, letting his mind drift back. He'd been just twenty-one the summer he'd come to Token Creek. There had been no guarantees that the congregation would want him to stay. Larry English had asked him to come, confident that he was the man for the Token Creek church. Rylan had trusted him and come. Without warning, five years had slipped by.
4'9
"In preparing for today," Chas Vick shared, standing at the front of the church, "I talked to a lot of people. It's probably more customary to allow the man who's being honored to say the closing words, but I wanted to do things in chronological order, which means you've got to hear Rylan's story about coming to Token Creek. Trust me when I tell you it's the best place to start."
Chas took a seat, and Rylan moved to the front. He caused his congregation to roar with laughter when he suddenly produced his
121Bible and said, "Now if you'll turn with me to the book of-" Rylan stopped, having pulled off the joke, and then began his story.
"I actually arrived in town on_a Thursday. I had ridden trains and stagecoaches for days, and when the coach stopped here, I was dusty, hot, and tired. I also had no money to make the return journey.
"I was standing on the boardwalk, looking around and getting my bearings, when a man approached me and asked if I was looking for work." Rylan smiled a little at the memory. "I was broke enough that I didn't say no, at least not until I found out that he wanted me to keep the peace in his saloon."
The congregation loved this, and Rylan did not continue until the laugher died down.
"The next person to speak to me was Pete Stillwell. I still thank God that he spotted me as I was headed past the livery. He asked me if I'd ever done any smithing." Rylan paused, looking confused. "I can't imagine why he would ask that. I've always had the impression that I looked like a banker."
Even as the congregation laughed, Rylan continued. He explained the way he'd found the parsonage and how Larry English took him in. The congregation was expecting him, and after a month of spending time with them, preaching each week and answering as well as asking questions, Rylan was asked to stay. Pastor English took his leave by the fall, and Rylan had been with them ever since:
"I can't believe five years have passed," Rylan said as he wrapped up his part. "It's been the most amazing time of my life, and I thank you for everything you've been and done. I'm looking forward to today, and to the next five years."
Many other people shared stories when Rylan sat down. Some were light and fun, and some were tear-filled as the congregation recalled the way God had worked through Rylan and God's Word, and how their lives were changed. They sang songs and shared testimonies for three hours before Chas wrapped things up and said it was time for dinner.
122The group exited to the area at the back of the building. Tables had been set up between the church and the parsonage, and the celebration continued there.
elRI
"The first time I met Rylan," Chandler shared with Cassidy and some others as they ate lunch, "I did a lot of staring."
"Why was that?"
"His size. I loved his comment about looking like a banker. I've always thought that he couldn't look less like a preacher."
"He is a big man," Cassidy had to agree. Chandler, Brad, and Trace were all very tall, but Rylan topped each of them and was large to boot.
"The pastor I grew up with could not have been more different," Chandler continued. "He was barely five feet tall and as slim as a reed."
Everyone at the table fell to talking about their past church families, but Cassidy didn't share. She had come to Christ as a teenager, and some of her memories from that time were painful. Talking about anything relating to the past made her uncomfortable. And when she spotted Meg holding Savanna, she went to steal the baby away, needing a little time alone with her thoughts.
"That was amazing," Cassidy said. She and Jeanette were the last to leave the potluck and were speaking to Rylan.
"Yes, it was," Rylan agreed. "What an encouragement. What a testimony to our saving God."
"Thank you, Rylan," Jeanette said, a hand to his arm. "We would not be who we are without you."
"Thank you, Jeanette. Thank you both for coming."
The women said their goodbyes and started off. Jeanette stopped
123long enough at Cassidy's door to tell her she would see her in the morning, but the older woman was long gone by the time Cassidy took her Bible indoors and came back down the stairs.
At the moment Cassidy felt restless and a little lonely. The day had been wonderful, but she didn't have family to go home to, and right now she missed that.
Moving slowly down streets she normally didn't visit, Cassidy took herself on a walk so she could pray for folks in Token Creek. She studied different homes as she went, and even stopped outside the Brickel mansion. It was the largest home in town, even larger than Jeanette's, and if the inside of the three-story mansion was as magnificent as the outside, Cassidy knew it must be a sight to see.
She enjoyed the view for a while but felt the cool night air coming in fast. Not wanting to get caught out after dark, she found her way back to Main Street. Once she'd turned toward home, she did not waste any time but was soon climbing the stairs at the side of her building.
The walk was just what she had needed. Her apartment no longer felt lonely but cozy and comfortable with its familiar surroundings. Cassidy settled in with a book and then did some quilting. The rest of the evening flew, and before she knew, it was time for bed.
"Where has the time gone?" Patience asked of Meg near the end of August, even as she looked down at the baby in her arms. Savanna was already a month old. Meg had come to town with her shopping list and planned to leave the baby with her aunt for a few
hours, but the two had started talking.
"Isn't she big?" Meg commented, drawing a smile from her daughter.
"When she smiles," Patience said softly, her eyes drinking in the baby girl, "my heart melts like butter."
"You'll have to write and tell my mother all about it."
124"Don't you already do that?" Patience asked.
"Every week, but I write from a mother's viewpoint, not a grandma's."
"When are they coming?" Patience asked.
"In the spring. They wanted to come for this cattle drive, but time and funds won't allow it."
"The spring will be a great time to visit," Patience said, thinking that her brother and sister-in-law were never going to want to be separated from this baby once they'd seen her.
"Oh," Patience suddenly said. "When you get to Jessie's, tell your uncle that I do need the brown sugar."
"All right. How long is he helping out at the store this time?" "Didn't you hear?" Patience asked. "Abel, the boy who works for Jessie, broke his leg. He won't be back for weeks."
"Oh, no."
"He's so active, he'll probably drive his mother out of her wits."
Savanna chose that moment to smile at her Aunt Patience, and all talk of the townsfolk stopped. Meg, knowing her daughter was in good hands, took her leave. Her first stop: Cassidy's shop.
125
chapter Ten
"TELL ME ALL THE PLACES YOU' VE BEEN, " Jeanette requested when
Meg came to the shop. Cassidy was out at the moment.
"You are my first stop."
"I thought you were planning to come in early," Jeanette said with a frown, trying to remember what Cassidy had told her when she said Meg was sure to be by.
Meg's look was comical. "Let me tell you about planning when you have a baby. There is no point. I was headed out the door at least an hour before I actually left. Savanna decided to spit up all over me, so I had to change my clothing and hers. Then your older nephew had to check with me forty times to make sure I was going to drive slowly, since I was on my own.
"Somewhere in there, I put my reticule down and couldn't find it. It had my list for Jessie's store and my money. Trace kept remembering things he wanted me to pick up, and just as I was headed out the door, Savanna soaked through her clothing and had to be changed again."
Jeanette enjoyed this account immensely. She knew Meg was deeply thankful for her daughter, and all the dry tones and eye tolling were an act.
' Wel t si t down a moment and rest yourself," Jeanette invited, ork
in her lap.
126
"Where is Cass?" Meg asked when she got comfortable, realizing she'd expected the younger woman to join them any moment. "She's making a delivery."
"I didn't know she ever did that."
"This is a special case," Jeanette said with a smile. She began to explain, even as she wondered how Cassidy was faring.
"Please come in, Miss Norton," Halston, the butler, invited. Halston had visited her shop early one morning and given her measurements and an order for five shirts. The shirts were for Hiram Brickel, who-if rumor could be believed-never set foot out of doors.
Cassidy stepped into a large foyer from which an ornately carved stairway rose to the second floor. Wide hallways flanked by pillars led in two directions, and Halston began to walk down one of them, saying over his shoulder, "Mr. Brickel is waiting for you."
He took Cassidy to a double doorway, opened it, and stood aside for her to enter. Cassidy didn't hesitate but stepped into a large parlor, beautifully furnished but dim, even on this sunny morning.
Standing by the fireplace was a man Cassidy judged to be at least thirty years her senior. His hair was liberally sprinkled with gray, but his frame was upright and his eyes were keen.
"Do you have the shirts?" the man asked her with a surprising amount of force.
"I have one shirt, Mr. Brickel," Cassidy said, moving a little closer. "I wanted to make sure you were pleased before I made the rest."
She received little more than a grunt, in reply and stood still while the older man came toward her, took the shirt from her hands, and began to inspect the seams, even going so far as to tug roughly here and there. She wanted to ask this rather refined gentleman if he planned to mine or dig ditches while wearing the shirt but kept her mouth shut.
"I'll have to try it on," he finally said.
127"Would you like me to leave?" Cassidy offered.
"I do not change my clothing in the parlor," he informed Cassidy coldly, and she had all she could do not to laugh. "You may wait here until I return."
Cassidy nodded and stood looking around the elegant room. She didn't do more than turn in a circle, but from every direction, the parlor was impressive. A large ornate fireplace with turquoise blue stone and a carved oak mantel was the focal point of one wall and took up a great deal of space.
The rest of the room was just as beautiful. The trim around the windows was dark oak, as was the upholstered furniture, which was covered in dark blue velvet. Cassidy was studying a side table with a marble top when she realized Mr. Brickel had been gone a long time. When he did return, he began barking orders the moment he stepped through the door.
"You could have taken a seat!" were the first words Cassidy heard.
"Thank you," Cassidy said, unsure how to reply. Then she noticed the shirt. "Oh, Mr. Brickel, it looks very nice on you. How do you like the fit?"
"It's fine," he said, his voice was cold again. But his eyes had
warmed some and were watchful. "When will the rest be done?" "In a week," Cassidy improvised, hoping she could do it. "You'll bring them yourself?"
"Yes, I can plan on that."
"Good. We'll have coffee now. Halston!"
"I'm sorry." Cassidy was not going to allow that. "I have to get back to the shop."
The coldness came back to Mr. Brickel's eyes, but Cassidy was not intimidated.
"Do you still want the other four shirts?" she felt a need to ask. "Of course."
"Then I'll see you next week."
"And you'll stay for coffee then," Mr. Brickel announced.
128"No, sir, I can't. But I thank you for the offer."
This said, Cassidy began to move toward the door.
"Why not?"
The force was back in his voice, so Cassidy stopped and turned to him.
"There are several reasons, Mr. Brickel," Cassidy began, wondering if having his business was going to be worth it. "I won't go into any of them right now, but each one makes it impossible for me to stay."
His eyes were even colder now, and she thought he would cancel the rest of his order, but he stayed quiet. Only when Cassidy said that she would see him next week did he nod. She had to be satisfied with that, and this time when she turned for the door she did not stop , or look back.
Jessie Wheeler was Jeb Dorn's cousin. A younger cousin certainly, but still a cousin. For that reason Jeb was the first person Jessie called when she needed help in the store. And because Jeb made furniture from out of the workshop he had built behind his home, he was usually able to come with little or no notice.
It was for this reason that Meg made her last stop at the store. She was in no hurry to get done, and it gave her some time with her uncle.
"Hi, Meg," Jessie greeted when she arrived. "How's that baby?" "She's wonderful."
"Did she like her boots?"
Meg had to laugh. "I don't know about Savanna, but Brad could not stop smiling."
"Trace was pretty excited," Jessie said, watching Meg reach into her bag. "Big list today?" the shop owner asked.
"Not huge, but enough to keep Jeb busy."
Both women laughed when Jeb called from the back, "Did someone say my name?"
129Meg went that way, passing and greeting both of Jessie's girls. She found her uncle in the stockroom and joined him.
"How are things going?"
"Just fine. Jessie was having Abel organize some of this stockroom. She said s
he couldn't find a thing."
Jeb looked like a kid in a candy store. He was an orderly, organized person, and being set loose on the stockroom was right up his street.
"Oh," Jeb went on, "I almost forgot. Miranda had her baby last night."
"Oh, that's good news! What did she have?"
"A girl. Nellie."
"Heidi will be thrilled," Meg said, causing them to both laugh. The church family knew that Heidi wanted things "even."
"What can I find for you?" Jeb offered finally, now walking with Meg in the aisles.
The two set to work, not in a hurry and doing as much talking as shopping. Other customers had needs from time to time, Saturdays being btisy, but for the most part Meg was able to take her time and finish her list. She also settled her account with Jessie and was on the way to get the baby and head for home a solid hour before she had expected.
"How did it go?" Jeanette asked.
Cassidy stood speechless for a few minutes. Her mind still working to process what had happened with Hiram Brickel.
"Cassidy?" Jeanette's voice had changed from curiosity to concern. "He wanted me to stay for coffee. He nearly insisted." "What did you say?"
"That I couldn't. I even offered to cancel the order, but he didn't want that."
It was now Jeanette's turn to be speechless. She stared at her boss, taking in the flushed cheeks and thoughtful eyes and wondered if she should feel concerned.
130"Do you have to deliver the rest of the shirts?"
"Yes, next Saturday."
"I'll go with you."
"Who will watch the store?"
Jeanette's brain raced for another solution, but Cassidy was ahead of her.
"I'm not afraid to go back there," Cassidy spoke with confidence, setting her bag down and putting on an apron. "I was surprised by it, but I'm not afraid."
"Tell me exactly what happened," Jeanette said. And Cassidy would have, but Chandler came in.
"Hi, Chandler," Cassidy greeted, her eyes quickly telling Jeanette that she wanted the other subject dropped. "What can we do for you?"
"Just some mending," he said, showing them the two shirts he'd torn and lost buttons from.
