She didn’t look at him and he experienced a pang of jealousy, until he decided that she was not looking at him too thoroughly and just maybe she was disconcerted by what had passed between them.
“Take this chair.” He stood. “I want you and Susannah to be warm while she eats. I’ll get supper, and tomorrow I’m gonna build you a rocking chair.”
“Oh, Red.” Cassie looked up at him, and the pink flush on her cheeks told him he was right about her embarrassment. She seemed to forget it now that he’d turned her attention. “You’re so busy. You don’t need to do another thing for me. I’ll get supper.”
“Sit, woman.” Red lifted the chair and set it back down with a firm crack.
Cassie reacted by smiling at him. “Yes, sir. If you insist. I was going to make one of the steaks you brought in from the steer.”
“I can do steaks,” Red said. “Were you going to use the spit in the fireplace?”
Cassie shook her head. “I’d planned to fry them.”
“Let me show you how we eat ’em on a cattle drive. It’s primitive but it’s good. Cattle drive cookin’ is about all I know besides eggs and ham.”
Cassie sat, dividing her attention between the baby and Red’s cooking efforts. He had the sizzling steaks ready by the time Susannah was done and well burped. Cassie changed the baby’s diaper while Red moved the crib out near the fire and debated with Cassie about how close it should be. Then the two of them sat and ate with the baby lying nearby, kicking and making an occasional little noise.
Susannah got bored and fell asleep. Red noticed Cassie’s eyes growing heavy. He insisted she go back to bed, and although she protested, he won the round and settled her and the baby in the back room.
He cleaned up the kitchen without paying attention to his work. He was busy reliving Cassie warming his face with her hands. And with her lips.
He realized that, with Cassie at his side, he could learn to love the bitter Montana winter.
Belle struggled to her feet after milking the cow. The animal was as round as Belle and would have her calf around the same spring date as Belle got herself her last child. She swore to herself it would be the last.
God, please let it be a girl.
Anthony chose that moment to stroll into the barn from the bitter outside. The man was a living, breathing, walking, talking testament to the general worthlessness of men—Red Dawson notwithstanding. Coming close enough to see how awkward she was, fat with their child, Anthony never so much as offered her a hand, and he certainly didn’t say he’d do the milking. The rat didn’t even offer to carry the bucket of milk.
Belle didn’t snap at him as she would have at one time. Making a serious effort, she kept the scowl off her face. Instead, she smiled. “Let’s walk back to the house and talk about what we’re going to name the baby. There should be hot coffee and I…uh…we could use a cup.” She could use the coffee, because she’d been freezing in the bitter cold of the barn and had been outside working all morning. Two hours before breakfast, and now two hours since. She had three more hours to go before time for the noon meal.
Anthony, on the other hand, had gotten out of bed to eat then had gone back to sleep for a while. He claimed his back would fail him completely if he got up and moving around too early in that cold little cabin. And it was too cold to sit under the Husband Tree or atop the house.
She mentioned none of that. She was a changed woman. A woman trying to do her best to be a good wife. As if doing all the work didn’t make her good enough.
Sorry, Lord. I didn’t mean to let slip with evil, unwifely thoughts.
At least, with the gap snowed shut, Anthony hadn’t been able to go to town. Which saved him wheedling a dollar out of her. Of course that meant he was underfoot all the time. His absence was well worth the dollar she gave him twice a week.
She didn’t say that either. But oh, how she wanted to. Inhaling slowly to regain her self control, she smiled at Anthony. “Now then, about the baby …”
“Her name will be Caterina. It was my ma’s name and it’ll be my child’s if it’s a girl. It’s likely a useless hope that you can birth a son. I’d prefer it but I hold out little hope. If it’s a boy, it will be named after me—Antonio.”
“Antonio is your real name?” This was beyond bad that she’d never known. She’d always thought it was Anthony.
“Yes, I adopted an American form of it and my son can, too, but I am named for my father and now my son will be named for me.”
God, please let it be a girl. Please, Lord. Please, please, please.
“Those names will be fine.” Caterina was no decent name for a child. And if, God forbid, she had a son—God, please let it be a girl—she would do her best to train him up to be less useless than the average man and she’d call him Tony. She realized she was assuming Anthony would be dead and would have no say in the child’s name. There were, of course, no guarantees. It was most certainly a sin for her to hope against hope.
They reached the house and entered.
Sarah was hard at work on dinner. She had a stew cooking, savory and warm.
Belle smiled at her daughter and handed over the milk.
“Thanks, Ma. Coffee’s hot.” Sarah poured a cup, giving Anthony a doubtful smile. The child had to work on her false politeness.
Belle hoped her own attempts at being nice were more successful.
“We’ve just been talking about the baby. Anthony wants the name Caterina if it’s a girl and Antonio if it’s a boy.”
“You think you might have a boy?” Sarah frowned little furrows into her forehead. She pulled the cloth out they used to strain the milk and worked as she talked.
“Most likely not,” Anthony sneered. “Your mother doesn’t seem able to produce a proper male child.”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “Those are weird names. Can’t we call her something normal, like Elizabeth or Ann?”
“It’s settled.” Anthony took the cup from Sarah as she extended it toward Belle.
Sarah rolled her eyes behind Anthony’s back and poured another cup.
It was moments like this that Belle remembered clearly why she’d never wasted much time talking with her husband. It was a useless pastime.
“Thanks.” Belle accepted her cup of coffee. “The dinner smells great. You’ve got it on early enough that it can simmer a long while. It will taste perfect this cold day.”
“Sarah, go outside. I need to have a long talk with your ma.” Anthony looked at Belle and she shuddered, though she tried to hide it. She knew that look. Where was her skillet?
Sarah glanced at Belle.
“Go on, honey. We just need to…talk…a bit more.” Belle spotted the cast iron, within easy grasp. Anthony was no match for her. They’d been through this before when he was snowed in overly long. Sure she was his wife, but being polite only went so far. Maybe instead of swinging it at his head, she’d aim for his back. As long as he used it for an excuse to avoid chores, he might as well really be hurt there.
Most likely she wouldn’t need it at all. Anthony could usually be cowed with a dark look and a cutting remark or two.
As soon as she calmed him down, be it with or without the use of cast iron, she’d go back to being the very soul of kindness.
Anthony smiled and took a step toward her.
Belle decided then and there that she hated winter.
Town didn’t hold much attraction for her, but she hated being trapped away from it because it kept Anthony far too close at hand. Two dollars a week was money well spent.
Anthony was soon sitting, disgruntled, in the house by himself. But after she’d properly discouraged the idiot, she’d said good-bye on her way out to work, real friendlylike.
CHAPTER 27
Red loved being forced to stay near Cassie and the baby. He could become a real layabout given time, because he was drawn to the house constantly by an eager wish to check on his girls.
Cassie occasionally wished aloud that she co
uld tell Muriel about the baby. Then she’d burst into tears. But mostly she seemed delighted to be alone with their little family.
The three of them shared a simple Christmas together.
Red got Cassie’s rocking chair done in time for it to be her gift.
She knitted him a thick scarf to cover his face and he teased her about liking her warming him better. She told him impertinently that she had enough to do without that troublesome chore, and he chased her around the room. Cassie laughed out loud as they played.
“Your sassy mouth makes me want to kiss you.” He caught her by the waist. “You know that, Cass. So you must want a kiss.”
“I most certainly do.” She giggled as he kissed her soundly.
Susannah’s eyes were wide open now, and the sparkling blue that Red had loved started to turn darker. Red lamented that she didn’t have his eyes.
Cassie snorted. “I hope not. Griff would roll over in his grave.”
He kissed her every time she teased him, and like any wise wife, she teased him often.
Red shivered as he came inside from evening chores. He saw the flames jump in their fireplace, and Cassie, setting the table for supper while she held Susannah in her arms, turned away from him to shelter the baby from the blast of cold. He knew he had to face the cold, hard job of building on.
“I’m going to start on that entry room tomorrow morning, Cass honey. I’ve been putting it off because it’s so slick, with that layer of ice under everything—figured I’d break a leg trying to chop down trees. But this last snow has covered it deep and I’ve got some traction. I can get into the woods safely now. What do you think? How big should it be?”
Once the icy wind was blocked away, Cassie turned back with her generous flashing smile. “I’m sure you know best, Red.” She held Susannah against her chest, wrapped in a warm blanket. Red could just see his precious daughter’s dark hair peeking out of the top of the blanket.
“You’re not being submissive again, are you?” Red narrowed his eyes, fighting to keep the grin off his face.
“Most certainly not.” Cassie sniffed at him, as if obedience was the furthest thing from her mind. But truth be told, she was a sweet little thing and minded him almost too much of the time. These days though, Red decided being easygoing was just her nature. Since she could be pretty sassy in fun, Red decided he liked her obedience well enough.
They ate a thick stew Cassie had made. She’d been a really good cook from the first. And now, with Susannah so small, Cassie didn’t clamor for her outside chores so much. Red went to the fireplace and thawed while he considered his pretty much perfect life.
Cassie settled the sleeping baby in the crib then moved back and forth between the bedroom and kitchen. She pushed a chair up close to the fire for Red. She grinned down at him. “You need my help warming up.”
Smiling, Red let her lay her pretty hands on his cold cheeks without a second of hesitation. As they stood there, so connected, so warm, Red remembered his surety that when he married Cassie he’d been committing a sin.
“You know God put us together, don’t you, Cass honey?”
She’d been focusing on resting her hands on his cold skin. Now she raised her eyes to meet his. “He did, didn’t He? Who could have figured such a thing in the middle of all that madness at the funeral?” Then Cassie wrinkled her nose. “You did your best to escape your fate, as I remember. Muriel had to practically drag you back to me.”
Laying his hands gently over hers, he pulled them away from his face and entwined their fingers, urging her down onto his lap. “I couldn’t see God in the choice I made that day.”
Cassie’s forehead crinkled just a bit, and Red knew that pinched her feelings.
“You want to know the main reason why?”
Doubtful, Cassie said, “Yes. Tell me why. What made you want to run for the hills when every other man in Divide was trying to run off with me?”
“It was because I wanted to marry you so badly.” He slid his arms around her waist.
Jumping but not able to escape, Cassie said, “What? Why would that make you run?”
“I told you once I didn’t think I should marry you, but I wanted to something fierce, remember?”
Cassie nodded.
“I’d noticed you from the first time I saw you in town. Which was probably the first day you and Griff moved here.” Red slid his hand up Cassie’s arm and to her face until he cradled her smooth, pink cheek in one of his rough, calloused hands.
“You did?” Cassie seemed pleased with that, judging from the way she kissed him.
“I set out to avoid you as much as possible because you were so beautiful and you seemed so sweet. I wanted to talk to you and spend time with you and I knew that my feelings were all wrong for a married woman.”
“I never knew. You spoke to me a few times.”
Smiling, Red said, “That’s ‘cuz I couldn’t resist a few times.” He pulled her closer and kissed her more soundly, almost dazed with the full realization that he’d ended up with this almost impossibly beautiful woman in his life.
“Griff wouldn’t let me talk to people. He said it was too familiar and not ladylike.”
No surprise there that Griff had found a way to hurt her. But Red was in no mood to talk about Lester Griffin right now. “I believe that God has prepared a woman for me from birth to be my life partner. I settled that in my heart that God would provide that woman for me or I’d live my life alone.”
“And you didn’t think that could be me?” Cassie jabbed him in the chest with a pointy finger and sniffed at him.
That made him happy, that she wasn’t going to pout or be hurt. “You know just as well as I do that it was a crazy way to pick a wife. Being the wife in the middle of the picking, you were none too happy about it either, as I recall.”
“I’d fully decided that if God really loved me, He’d open up Griff’s grave and let me join him.” Cassie leaned in and kissed him a quick peck on the lips. “But God had a much better idea.”
Red pulled her back and deepened the kiss. “He did indeed.” Then he kissed her again, and she melted against him as surely as the spring sun melts the winter snow.
When the kiss ended, he pulled away enough to see her flushed cheeks and shining, slightly swollen lips. Their eyes met and held. “Marry me, Cass honey. I believe God chose you for me and prepared the two of us, from birth, to be together. I love you so much. Will you marry me and be my wife?”
This question wasn’t about a promise made to God. Red had made that promise months ago and had from that moment fully honored those vows and intended to for the rest of his life. But right now he was asking for more. He saw Cassie’s expression and knew she understood. He knew she’d say the words. He knew from the very beginning she’d have submitted to him. But finally Red knew that she’d be eager, not just obedient. His heart sped up as he waited.
She didn’t make him wait long. “I love you, too, Fitzgerald O’Neill Dawson.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she said against his lips, “Yes, I want to marry you with all my heart.”
The stew was set aside so it didn’t scorch.
Susannah slept peacefully as if she knew her parents were hoping for some time alone.
On that cold winter night, in a dark but warm cave, Red and Cassie Dawson became, at last, fully and beautifully married.
Red built a neat little log shanty to block the wind around their front door.
Cassie stayed inside like a fragile houseplant, when she wanted to be outside helping him. But Susannah demanded her time, and the weather wasn’t fit for a baby. Cassie worried that Red was exposing himself to the harsh winter. He held her and reassured her and distracted her from her worry.
She knew he wasn’t really being hurt by the bitter temperature, but her heart was so full of love for her husband and her baby and her life that the happiness seemed to overflow in wild emotions with little provocation.
Cassie vowed to him that she’d nev
er ask for anything again.
Red thanked her profusely for giving him a suggestion and told her she was the smartest woman in the state of Montana.
She reminded him with some sass that there weren’t that many women in Montana so that wasn’t so very much of a compliment. When she talked like that to him, he tended to laugh and chase her around the room and pull her into his arms, so she did her best to talk like that often.
When the tiny new room proved to keep the soddy warmer, Cassie made a point of reminding Red, with a snippy tone, that it had been her idea from the start.
The flashing precious newness of their young love deepened, and they expressed it in all the ways there were.
By the time winter stretched into spring, Red and Cassie had reason to hope that their family might grow larger. When that time came, Red teased her, the baby had every right to resemble him.
When the weather was finally decent for them to go to town, Red had his hands full battling heavy spring rains and a thaw that flooded all the creeks. He spent hours every day checking his spring calf crop. He and Cassie sowed a garden, although Cassie protested that it should be her job alone. He promised she’d do her share when it was warm enough that Susannah could lie on a blanket outside. Now she had to snatch free moments during Susannah’s nap time and run inside frequently to check on the growing baby.
It was the end of May when the water finally subsided and they made the time for a trip to town one Sunday morning. Red didn’t want to be away from the farm for two days, so they left very early, planning a one-day trip. Cassie fashioned a sling across her chest and she carried Susannah in it while Red carried her. They even galloped, because Buck was feeling his oats after a long, idle winter. The baby slept through the whole trip.
When they arrived in town, the folks were overjoyed to have their preacher back.
Muriel wept over Susannah and presented Cassie and Red with a small mountain of baby clothes she’d sewn over the winter. The Jessups, the Dawsons’ neighbors, had ridden to their place and seen that the baby had come safely. Then the bachelors braved the weather and gotten to town and told everyone there was a baby girl at the Dawson place, so the clothes were adorned with lace and ribbon. Muriel declared herself to be Susannah’s grandmother so fervently that no one considered for a moment objecting.
Mary Connealy Page 26
