Cassidy

by Lori Wick

  “Neighbors?” Meg said on a soft laugh. “Without money to build a house, you’ll be living here.”

  Cassidy smile was huge when she said, “Jeanette’s buying the business. We’ll have money to build a house.”

  “That’s right!” Meg said, unable to believe she had missed that.

  The two fell to discussing house plans, how long it would take to build, and how much Cassidy wanted a large porch. They talked all the way through Savanna’s nap and Meg’s feeding her again. They didn’t start to sew for almost two hours.

  Trace spotted the extra horse in the barn the moment he returned. He didn’t know Cassidy was coming early and swiftly headed to the house. He came through the kitchen, washed his hands, and then went to the living room. He found Meg alone but was not fooled.

  “Where is she?” he asked his sister-in-law.

  “Where is who?” Meg asked, almost looking convincing.

  “Tell me something, Meg,” Trace said, enjoying himself. “Did she actually think I wouldn’t notice the extra horse and the buggy parked right outside the barn?”

  Meg only smiled, and Trace began to look around. He skipped the upstairs and wandered into the office, back into the living room, and then into the kitchen. There was a rather deep pantry in the corner of that room, and Cassidy was just coming out. She shot around the back way, but Trace knew this house much too well. Darting through the door that led from the dining room, he caught her in the back hall before she could reach the stairs.

  “How are you?” Trace asked when he cornered her, just keeping his distance and his hands to himself.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I didn’t know you would be here already.”

  Cassidy looked pleased. “My sign now says ‘Closed Wednesdays and Sundays.'”

  Trace smiled into her eyes before his went to her hair.

  “Your hair is back up.”

  “It got warm again.”

  “Oh,” Trace said, not having figured that out.

  “I have a lot to tell you,” Cassidy said, thinking about Jeanette’s offer, “but I want to talk about us today too.”

  “Okay. Where do you want to start?”

  “You’re not free now, are you?”

  “I can be in about an hour. Will that work?”

  Cassidy nodded and sighed a little, just pleased to be in the same room with him. She hadn’t seen him since Sunday. Waiting one more hour would be no effort at all.

  “Did you know Jeanette wanted to buy the business?” Cassidy asked, all of her plans to talk about just the two of them flying out of her head.

  “Not until we got home on Sunday night and Brad told me.”

  “I’m so excited, Trace. I think Token Creek can keep it going. I think it will work for Jeanette.”

  “Did you have orders today?”

  “Between yesterday and today, I have five. And Jeanette went to see Hiram Brickel and got my money for me.”

  “How did that work out?”

  Cassidy told him the story, and Trace knew no end of relief. He’d not been holding Cassidy’s hand as they walked, but he took it now. The enormousness of his feelings told him he’d been more worried about that than he realized.

  “Good,” he said quietly, and Cassidy looked at him.

  “Were you worried?”

  “Yes,” Trace admitted, looking back at her.

  They didn’t talk for a little while, both thinking about the past days and events they’d been through.

  “I did something a little bit big yesterday,” Cassidy said after a few minutes, and then explained about her note to Rylan.

  “This Sunday?” Trace asked.

  “Yes. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s a good idea. It might be hard on you, but I like the idea of folks being able to ask questions. Everyone will know all at one time what happened.”

  “That’s what I thought. I’m glad you don’t object.”

  “Did you think I would?”

  “No, but Rylan asked me what you thought, and I realized I hadn’t had a chance to check with you. Rylan said I could cancel if I needed.”

  “As long as you’re up to it, I think you should plan on it.”

  “I might not hear much of the sermon,” Cassidy admitted.

  “I’ll fill you in later,” Trace said, and Cassidy loved the way he understood her.

  Trace had some things he had to get done before supper, so they walked back to the house. Cassidy realized then that they hadn’t talked about their own future. She tried to be patient and was happy to help Meg with supper, but she had plans. As soon as supper was over, she wanted more time alone with Trace Holden.

  “You look tired,” Brad said to Meg, finding her alone in the dining room. Trace, Cassidy, and Savanna were in the kitchen.

  “Really?” She looked surprised. “I feel fine.”

  “I don’t think so,” Brad said, working hard not to smile even a little. “I think you need to turn in as soon as Trace leaves to take Cassidy back to town.”

  Meg caught it then. It had taken longer than usual but still had the usual effect. Her husband’s warm gaze filled her with pleasure. She moved to his side of the table, pressing close to him in the guise of adjusting one of the plates.

  “I think you’re right,” Meg agreed softly, enjoying the little flames that lit his gaze.

  Brad kissed her before she could move away, telling himself to be patient. Trace and Cassidy would be on their way in just a few hours.

  “When did you first realize you had special feelings for me?” Cassidy asked. Meg and Brad were doing dishes. Savanna was sleeping on Trace’s shoulder, and Cassidy was sitting beside him on the living room sofa.

  “That would have been in April, maybe May.”

  “What happened then?” Cassidy asked with a frown.

  “You came with me to visit my mother for the first time.”

  “I remember that happening but nothing special about it.”

  “Well, you would have needed to know that I had been thinking about getting to know Lilly Karlen.”

  Cassidy nodded. She knew Lilly but not well. She was a shy woman whom Philip Leffers was just starting to court.

  “It’s been a long time ago now, but one Sunday Jeanette had us over with the Karlen family. I don’t hold this against Lilly, but she could not deal with even visiting my mother on the porch. Her parents and brothers went out and met her, but Lilly just about panicked. That changed the way I viewed her.

  “When you came along and talked to my mother like you do everyone else, I started to see you differently. I didn’t fall head-over-heels in love right then, but I began to notice things about you. The more I watched, the more convinced I became that you were perfect for me.”

  “But you didn’t want to say anything?”

  “I couldn’t tell what you felt about me. You were kind to everyone, including Chandler. I even wondered for a while if you might have feelings for Rylan. It wasn’t that you did anything special, but you were warm and caring with everyone.”

  Cassidy looked at him. She had had no idea. Not a clue.

  “Your turn,” Trace said, but before Cassidy could get started, Meg and Brad came from the kitchen. Brad wanted to talk about Cassidy’s business.

  “How will you and Jeanette work this? Have you had a chance to discuss it?”

  “As a matter of fact, she came to see me yesterday afternoon, and we talked about it. I’ve had enough orders the last few days to make me think the business will survive. Jeanette plans to take over from me all during this month. If that works, I’ll just work for her until she no longer needs me.”

  “Have the two of you set a date?” Brad asked.

  “Not yet,” Trace said, taking that one.

  “Are you anxious about that, Cass?” Brad wished to know.

  “Not at all,” she said. It was enough to know that her future was with Trace. There was no need to rush. Not until she and Trace were on the r
oad back to town did she learn that he wasn’t feeling quite so patient.

  “The weather is changing fast. Without a lot of warning, we could be in deep snow. If the snow is on the ground, I can get to town in the sleigh without a problem. But if we’re in a blizzard or a white out and I can’t be with you on a day I normally would, that would be hard. A few weeks of that I could stand, but not a whole winter.”

  “So what are you thinking?”

  “How does next month look to you?”

  “You mean you want to get married in November?” Cassidy checked with him.

  “Yes.”

  Cassidy was not expecting this. She wasn’t doubtful about wanting to marry Trace, but next month was not what she’d had in mind. Cassidy was still working it through when the buggy came to a halt. She turned to find Trace watching her.

  “Problems?”

  “No,” Cassidy said without thinking.

  Trace’s brows rose in unbelief. “You’re sure?”

  This time Cassidy stayed quiet.

  “You can tell me.”

  “Do you realize that I haven’t even told you I love you?” she asked. “And,” she added with a bit of strength, “you haven’t even officially asked to marry me?”

  “I do realize that,” Trace admitted.

  “Those things might seem silly to you, Trace, but they’re not to me.”

  “They’re not silly to me either. I know you love me, and I’m looking forward to the time you’re ready to tell me. I will ask for your hand, down on my knee, but I keep waiting for a special time when we won’t be interrupted, and so far that’s not happened.”

  There it was again—the softening of Cassidy’s eyes that always got to Trace’s heart.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “That you’re wonderful. I didn’t know you were planning that.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said softly. “We need to keep our heads so we don’t miss anything but not so much that this feels like a business arrangement.”

  Cassidy sighed a little and asked, “So what happens now?”

  Trace looked out over the horse’s head. “Why don’t we stop in and see if Rylan is available to talk. We’ll tell him what we’re thinking and get his advice.”

  “What about Brad and Meg? Are they ready to have us living there as husband and wife?”

  Trace smiled as he put the buggy back into motion. “Brad asked me right before I left what I was waiting for. I mentioned that very thing to him—that we’d be sharing the house for a while—and he dismissed it with three words.”

  “What were the words?”

  “'What’s the problem?'”

  Cassidy could not hold her laugh. Trace took that for a yes and headed for Rylan’s.

  “Jeanette?” Trace called to his aunt when he slipped in through her front door much later that night.

  “Who is it?” she asked, coming from her parlor, a book in her hand and a small pair of spectacles perched on the end of her nose. “Trace?”

  “Yes. Can I talk to you?”

  “Of course. What can I do for you?”

  “I need your help with a surprise,” Trace started.

  “For Cassie?” Jeanette guessed.

  “She’s the one,” Trace answered with a smile.

  Jeanette all but rubbed her hands together before saying, “Just tell me what I need to do.”

  “I’ve got a job,” Abi said to Rylan, catching him on his way to the livery on Friday morning.

  “Where are you working?” Rylan asked.

  “I’m writing for the newspaper.”

  “How did that come up?”

  “I took some of my stories to the publisher and he bought two.”

  Rylan smiled and asked, “Will you still be able to use them in your book?”

  “I’m not working on it just now.”

  “Why is that?”

  Abi shook her head but didn’t look agitated. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I just don’t want to right now.”

  “All right,” Rylan said. He wasn’t sure if the book was earning her any money as she wrote or how that all worked. He’d never asked, and she’d never shared. Instead he asked, “How are you doing with the verses I gave you?”

  “I memorized them.”

  “That’s great. Are they making sense to you?”

  Abi smiled a little and said quietly, “I have hope in the Lord now.”

  “Do you want to say those verses for me?” Rylan asked, knowing he had just about that much time.

  Abi quoted two she had learned from the Psalms. “'Let Israel hope in the Lord: for with the LORD there is mercy, and with him is plenteous redemption. Let Israel hope in the Lord from henceforth and for ever.'”

  “I think you just made my day.”

  Abi looked pleased without smiling. Rylan, however, didn’t even attempt to hold his smile. He looked at the woman whose hunger for God was new but still very real and believed again in his heart that God could save the people of Token Creek.

  Cassidy was on the verge of closing on Friday evening when Timothy, the man who worked for Jeanette, came into the shop.

  “Good evening,” he spoke formally and looked serious.

  “Hello,” Cassidy greeted him, not having met him more than a few times.

  “I was asked to give you this,” Timothy stated, handing a piece of paper to Cassidy.

  “Thank you,” she said automatically, not realizing until too late that Timothy was not staying around for anything else. “Goodbye,” Cassidy called after him and then opened the letter.

  Your presence is requested for supper at my house tonight. Please come at half past five.

  It was signed by Jeanette, and Cassidy had to laugh. That woman had just been there—they’d worked together all day—and not mentioned a thing about it. Cassidy wondered what she was up to but didn’t give it great thought. Closing the shop, she went up to her apartment, taking some time to freshen up and change into one of her Sunday dresses before heading toward Jeanette’s.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CASSIDY WAS ALMOST TO JEANETTE’S FRONT DOOR when it opened. Timothy was there yet again, bowing formally and bidding her to enter.

  “If you’ll come this way,” he invited once Cassidy had laid aside her coat, making the seamstress think that Jeanette had lost her mind. She followed Timothy, however, watching him step aside as he neared the doorway of the small parlor. He told her to go right in, and when Cassidy did, Trace was waiting inside.

  “Trace,” Cassidy said in soft surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m waiting to dine with Cassidy Norton.”

  Not until that moment did Cassidy see that a small table, set for two, had been placed in the middle of the room, not far from the fire. Candles flickered from the table’s center, fine plates and crystal gleaming in the light. Cassidy was looking around, still trying to find her bearings, when Trace came toward her.

  “First things first,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to stand with him in front of the mantel, the fire crackling beside them. Still holding her hand, Trace went down on one knee.

  “Oh, Trace,” Cassidy said, her voice catching in her throat as she watched him.

  “Cassie,” he said, his voice deeper than usual, “will you marry me?”

  “Yes,” Cassidy whispered, not able to manage more.

  Trace kissed the back of her hand before standing up again. He took her into his arms.

  “I love you, Trace.” Cassidy said the words she’d been longing to say, her own arms around his neck.

  At the moment Trace couldn’t say anything at all. He lowered his head and kissed her softly on the mouth.

  “Forgive me?” he asked when he could breathe.

  “Why do you need forgiving?”

  “For setting a date before I’d proposed.”

  “I’m not sure there’s anything to forgive, but if you need that, I’ll say yes.”

 
Trace could have gone right on holding her, but that would have to wait. With special care, he took Cassidy to the table and held a chair for her. The moment she was seated, he excused himself and left the room.

  Cassidy didn’t hear anything, but Trace came back just a minute later, taking the seat across from her. Before Cassidy could ask what he was up to, food began to arrive. Becky had clearly outdone herself, and she and Heather began to wait on them, delighted with the whole idea.

  Large bowls of black bean soup were set before Trace and Cassidy, along with biscuits that Becky had coaxed to an impossible height. Cassidy was still so surprised by the whole evening that she could only stare. Not until they were left alone could she find her voice, but then she heard piano music playing in the distance. Cassidy looked across at Trace, hardly able to believe he had done all of this.

  “That’s Jeanette, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “You planned it all.”

  “With Jeanette’s help.”

  “I won’t ever forget this,” Cassidy said, realizing it was true.

  “Shall we do it every year?” Trace asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Try your soup,” Trace invited, so pleased over her obvious enjoyment that he was having a hard time sitting still.

  The soup was as delicious as it looked and smelled. And it was only the beginning. Pot roast followed, crowded all around by fat potatoes and carrots, with more of Becky’s biscuits and a tub of fresh butter always at hand. Their coffee cups were not allowed to become empty, and when their plates were, chocolate cake, frosted between all three layers, came to the table.

  Cassidy’s skills in the kitchen were fine, and if she had a recipe she could make anything, but she never had time for special desserts, so this ended up being her favorite part of the meal. “That was amazing,” she said as it ended, thinking that to do this every year would be such a treat.

  “I could eat another piece of cake,” Trace admitted.

  Cassidy groaned. “I don’t know if I can even move.”

  Trace laughed before asking, “Shall we head to the ranch?”

  “I have work tomorrow,” Cassidy hated to remind him.