Montana Rose
Page 21
“As far as we know, Wade is still in Denver.”
Red and Cassie headed for home in the fading light of Montana’s early evening. This time Red knew he’d never relax his guard.
CHAPTER 21
“I need to warn you girls what I’ve done.” Belle waved her girls closer.
It wasn’t hard to catch them without Anthony around. Being not around was the usual state of things.
Lindsay, Emma, and Sarah drew close, the whispered words drawing them in. They were in the barn shortly before it was time to eat dinner.
“I’ve decided it’s a sin the way I treat Anthony.”
Emma’s brow puckered. “You mean feeding him and washing his clothes and picking up after him and giving him money to go to town twice a week? That’s a sin?”
What Anthony did in town was most definitely a sin. But Belle had caught him stealing a few times, and when he was cornered, the man had a dangerous look in his eyes that made Belle want her skillet handy. Even though it sickened her to think what Anthony did with that dollar, she’d taken to giving him a dollar about twice a week, which seemed to be enough to keep him calm. Besides, she liked having him gone from the ranch, so it was like she was paying to have a couple of days without his brooding presence. Money well spent.
“No, it’s a sin that I’ve treated him badly.”
“How, Ma?” Sarah asked, her face worried as if her mother’s confessing to sin scared her.
“Well, I’ve ... I’ve been bossy and unkind and hostile. He says his back hurts, and instead of feeling bad for him, I’ve treated him like a liar, and a lazy one at that.”
“He is a liar, Ma.” Lindsay scowled.
Belle knew they’d all seen Anthony ride away on his horse, as fit as could be. His back only hurt where there were chores. The man was a liar, and no Christian charity could change that simple fact.
“Yes, I agree.” Except that wasn’t what Belle wanted to do. She needed to encourage her children to give the man the benefit of the doubt. “I mean, it’s not for us to judge him.” Belle pulled her flat-crowned hat off her head in frustration. “What I really mean is Anthony’s sin is between him and God. We are still called to treat him with kindness and”—she wasn’t sure she could choke out the word—“l–love.”
All three girls inhaled sharply and straightened away from the little circle they’d formed.
“You’re saying you’re in love with him, Ma?” Lindsay shook her head. “I think that’s a bad idea.”
“No, for the love of heaven, I’m not saying that!” Belle felt sickened by the very thought. “I’m saying God called us to love our neighbor as ourselves. I’m saying I learned something when I went and visited Cassie Dawson.”
“Who?” Sarah twisted her mouth as if the conversation was a nuisance, which it was. Sarah had supper to get and Belle knew it.
“She used to be Cassie Griffin. I told you how they forced her into a marriage. You remember that, right, girls?”
“So you’re saying it’s okay to let someone force us into marriage?” Emma started wringing her hands.
“No! Now listen to me. Don’t you ever let someone force you into marriage.” Belle whipped her hat against her leg, wondering why she’d ever started this. “I’m saying I’m going to try and love Anthony as a neighbor. As a child of God. No, good heavens to Betsy, I don’t love the wretched man.”
That probably wasn’t the thing to say if she was going to try and be a better Christian when it came to Anthony. “What I mean is, Anthony’s lies, Anthony’s laziness, those are between him and his Maker. And our behavior is between us and God. That’s all we can control. I’ve been sinning by being unpleasant to the man, and I’m going to try and change. You know, I worry for Anthony’s soul, though it’s wrong to judge.”
Belle had judged him as belonging to the netherworld before she’d been married to the man for two weeks, but that was her own sin. No sense spreading that to her children. Although she had to admit that realization had come a bit late.
God forgive me.
“I’m saying maybe we can ... reform him. Show him how Christians are supposed to act. That’s part of being a good Christian. Being a good example and behaving in a way that draws others to our faith. And I’ve been less than a good Christian to Anthony, and worse, I’ve been a poor example to you girls. I don’t know if he’ll come, but I told Anthony I wanted him to join the family. Even if he doesn’t work, he can be with us, talk to us, join in with things besides meals. And I just wanted to warn you girls because I’ll no doubt be saying things to him you don’t understand. You might even find them shocking.”
“What kind of things, Ma?” Sarah shifted her weight.
“My plan is to be ... to be...” Belle shuddered and she knew the girls could see it, but she soldiered on. “Nice to the lazy coot.”
All three girls gasped in shock.
Belle nodded. “I knew you wouldn’t understand. That’s why I had to warn you. And if you can possibly do it, try and be nice, too.”
Lindsay shook her head, not in disobedience but rather as if she couldn’t imagine a single nice thing she could say to her stepfather.
Belle patted her on the shoulder. “Just try. I know it goes against the grain.”
All three girls nodded as if Belle had just ordered them into a war zone ... unarmed.
She decided to arm them somewhat. “There’s a Bible verse I heard once that said being kind to people who are bad to you is like heaping hot coals on their heads. So maybe it’ll help to imagine you’re doing that while you be nice.”
Emma shrugged. “That might work.”
“It’s worth a try.” Lindsay started pulling her gloves on.
“I’ll do it.” Sarah squared her shoulders and stuck out her chin. “But they’re gonna be red-hot coals.”
“Whatever it takes. Now go get supper on while we finish the chores.”
“Will Anthony be coming in to help us with the chores?” Lindsay was being sarcastic.
Belle recognized the attitude. It came straight from her. “I doubt it. I saw him coming down from the Husband Tree and climbing up on the roof.” Belle shook her head in disgust and tugged her hat back onto her head, pulling the flat black brim low over her eyes. “I’m going to go see if I can talk the idiot into coming down so I can get started being nice.”
***
“She’s turning somersaults again.” Cassie rested her hand on her stomach as she settled into bed.
Red grinned and laid his hands beside hers. “He’s still talking to me, just like that day you got cold.”
“She can’t talk yet.” Cassie shoved at his hands, but Red held on.
“Be still, woman, so my son can tell me how he’s doing.” Red loved feeling the baby move and telling Cassie there was a little boy growing in her. It was closest she’d come to sassing him.
He quit letting her lie apart from him when she came to bed. He’d always pulled her close after she’d fallen asleep, but now he pulled her into his arms the minute she lay down. Better still, she came without protest.
Checking the cattle together worked better than Red had hoped. Occasionally there was an injured longhorn that needed doctoring, and after scouting around to make sure Wade wasn’t in the vicinity, Red would find a sheltered spot and set Cassie down to watch from a safe distance while he roped and hogtied the beast and tended it. Every day there were a few head of cattle that needed something special. If possible, Red drove them back to the ranch and worked with them while Cassie did her outside chores.
That worked until the day Red came into the house and Cassie wouldn’t face him. She always turned around from where she was working on supper to smile hello. Red hadn’t thought much about it until she didn’t do it. She stayed hovering over the fire with her back turned to him. He surely did miss her cheerful greetings.
“Hi, Cass. Supper ready?” He waited expectantly for her to warm his life with her hello.
She said, witho
ut turning around, “Hi. Meal’s almost ready. Go ahead and sit down.”
Red couldn’t say a thing was wrong with the way she was stirring at the pot of stew she’d made, but he kept a sharp eye on her. She had the plates beside her on the sink, and she reached over for one with her back still turned. She started scooping up a plate of stew, and when he went beside her to wash from the basin of hot water on the sink, she turned away from him and set the plate on the table. He washed as she fussed with setting the plate just so. Then he went to the table and she turned back to the fire and got the other plate.
He waited for her to sit down until she said in an overly casual voice, “I think I’d better just tend this stew a bit more. Go ahead and eat without me.”
Red surged up out of his chair and grabbed her arm. She cried out in pain and he let go immediately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so rough.” Then Red thought about what he was saying. He hadn’t been rough!
He said sternly, “What’s going on here, Cassie Dawson?”
There was a long silence as he stood behind her and she faced the fire. Finally, with tortuous slowness, she turned around.
“What happened to your face?” Red reached to touch her then pulled back. She had a scrape across the whole side of her cheek and down her neck. He thought about the pain he’d caused her when he took her arm. “Let me see the rest of it.”
Cassie started shaking her head. “Red, it’s not as bad as it looks. It’s just a scrape!”
“I want to see your arm. Right now!” Red stepped so he was behind her and started unbuttoning her dress. As he did he noticed a dozen slits in her sleeve that had been carefully mended.
“Red, please! You’re overreacting!” Cassie turned to look over her shoulder at him in alarm as he clumsily undid the buttons down the back of her dress.
“What happened to you? How did you...” Red quit talking and gasped as he pulled her sleeve down. The scrape went down her neck, over her shoulder, and the length of her arm.
“Cassie,” Red whispered in dismay. “Was it Wade? Did he hurt you?”
Cassie clutched the dress to her front. “No, I haven’t seen Wade at all. I ... I just fell.”
“Fell where?” Red said in alarm. “I was around the place all afternoon. I never saw you fall.”
Cassie didn’t answer.
Red, unaccustomed to anything but complete obedience from his little wife, looked away from the nasty damage to her arm and neck and saw a stubborn expression on her face. “Ca–a–assie,” he said gravely. “Tell me.”
“You’ll be upset.” Cassie turned to face him, pulling her dress back into place. “It was my fault. I don’t want you to...”
“Now, Cassandra Dawson. Tell me exactly what happened and do it right now!” Red thought he sounded just like his father used to when Red was naughty. But Red didn’t want to treat his wife like a naughty child.
That stubborn look settled more deeply on her face. Red had the feeling that Cassie was saying some unpleasant things to him inside her head. He almost smiled. He’d wanted her to stand up to him. The trouble was, now that she was thinking about doing it, he didn’t want it at all. What if Wade had come and somehow scared Cassie into keeping it a secret? What if he’d snuck up on the house somehow and gotten to her when Red was—
“I fell watering Buck!” Cassie said with a scowl after she’d finished fastening her buttons. “I just slipped is all, and I don’t want you saying I can’t...”
“I saw you take him down to the creek. He was walking ahead of you like always.” Red let go of his worst fears as he thought about his cantankerous horse.
“He’s getting better, Red. I’ll be more careful.”
Buck had never forgiven Cassie for flapping her skirts the first morning she’d lived here. And he wasn’t getting better. If anything, he had learned he could bully Cassie and was worse than ever.
“That horse has taken to dragging you along behind him,” Red said. “You’re too long on belly and too short on legs to make him mind.”
“It’s not Buck’s fault I fell.” Cassie crossed her arms and glowered.
“Yes it is. You shouldn’t be watering him.” Red felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead, picturing Cassie falling on that steep slope to the creek.
“Now, Red, don’t say that.” Cassie raised her hands in front of her as if asking Red to stop. “Please don’t say I can’t do it. It’s not his fault. My hand just got twisted in the lead rope and I ended up sliding a ways. He didn’t—”
“How far?” Red interrupted.
“How far what?” Cassie said, twisting her hands together.
Red knew she was ducking the question. He said through clenched teeth, “How far did he drag you after you fell?”
Cassie’s jaw firmed and her lips clamped together. Red thought she was going to tell him to go soak his head. He had another quiver of humor go through him, but then he thought about Buck dragging her.
“You tell me right now, wife, and that’s an order! When did you fall? And how far did he...”
“I fell right over the crest,” she almost shouted.
“How far?” Red stormed at her.
“The rest of the way to the creek,” she snapped back.
Dead silence reigned for just a second while Red contemplated his beloved Cassie being dragged down that treacherous path.
Speaking barely above a whisper through a throat nearly swollen shut with fear, Red asked, “And you thought you could hide this from me because you’re worried about losing one of your precious chores. Right?”
Cassie’s stubborn expression faded, and she looked like the worried, obedient little wife he was used to. She nodded.
Red leaned down so his nose almost touched hers and bellowed, “You should be worried! You’re losing all of them! You are going to mind me, woman!”
He watched her fight to keep her temper from overflowing. She opened her mouth to speak a dozen times, but each time she stopped.
He wanted to goad her into fighting because it would do her good to stand up for herself. But this wasn’t the time. He wasn’t going to give on this. And maybe she was just too submissive to argue, or maybe she could see the stubbornness on his face just like he could see it on hers.
In the end she just said through clenched teeth, “Yes, Red.”
CHAPTER 22
Wade heard the shouting.
He normally didn’t come this close, but the raised voice carried up the draw to the hilltop where he watched, and he’d come down a long way toward the house, afraid Dawson was hurting his china doll right now. If only Dawson would go away, leave poor china doll for just a few minutes.
There was no window in that nasty little dirt structure, but the snow was trampled enough around the place that Wade dared to approach close enough to listen through the door. Wade had abandoned the line shack he’d found and moved into a cave a bit farther from the Dawson place. He was now a long way up the mountain, barely able to see the goings-on with his spyglass. But today for the first time, voices carried and Wade had set out at a run to save Cassie.
Dawson seemed like an easygoing dolt with his odd jobs and his work as a preacher. But Wade had learned that Dawson’s eyes were sharp and he could read signs like an Indian scout. Wade had moved his campsite farther back four times now as Dawson’s snooping had brought the man close to Wade’s hideout.
Wade rested his hand on the butt of his holstered gun, longing to rush in, finish Dawson, and clear out with the china doll in tow. But he couldn’t charge in with guns blazing. He couldn’t risk hitting the china doll with a stray bullet.
And there was more to it than that. Wade rested against the sod wall abutting the door. He tilted his head back and stared at the sky, sparkling with a thousand pinpoints of light. What if he went in and couldn’t pull the trigger?
Please give me the courage to save her.
Wade closed his eyes and came the closest to praying he’d ever done in his life ... at
least for a long time. He needed the courage to save his china doll.
Wade waited and hoped, but that courage didn’t come. He was a coward. His father was ashamed to call Wade his son. He was a poor excuse for a man.
His mother had put herself between Wade and his father many times. His mother had taken the same kind of cruelty as the china doll. Except Wade’s mother had died bringing a second baby. She’d called Wade in, knowing she was dying. Now, as Wade stood in the frigid cold, shut out of the love he knew the china doll held for him, he was transported to that horrible room, six years old, listening again to his mother’s sobbing apologies for dying, for leaving him alone.
And she’d been right to apologize, because Wade had soon learned just how much his mother had sheltered him. With that shelter gone, Wade had taken the full brunt of his father’s anger.
Now Wade wished he could be that shelter for the china doll. He could protect her, save her.
Red’s voice came though the wall again.
Was he hitting her even now? With a coward nearby who was too weak to protect her. The china doll was taking that same treatment from her second husband.
Red yelled, “You are going to mind me, woman!”
And the china doll answered in a sweet, scared voice, “Yes, Red.”
Words Wade had learned to say to his father, quickly, with just that same obedient tone. And yet, even knowing that, Wade stayed outside. A coward.
Had Red beaten that tone out of the china doll?
“Yes, Red.”
The words echoed in Wade’s mind as if they were repeated over and over. And still Wade-the-Coward stayed outside.
Wade sank to his knees in the bitter Montana November and hated Red Dawson.
Hated his father.
Hated himself.
***
All the outside chores were strictly Red’s now.
November gave way to December, and winter came down around them so hard that Red didn’t attempt the trip to Divide anymore.
Red held a simple church service for the two of them those days and gained some confidence in Cassie’s faith, although he always wondered if it was real or if she was just following his dictate. In the end, he couldn’t even decide if it mattered.