by Holby Cindy
Trying to fool yourself made you the biggest fool of all. Libby hadn’t caused the ruckus; she was just doing what came natural. Cassie had to admit to herself that it was her own stubborn stupidity that made her act as she did on the trail. She leaned her head against a wooden post and thunked it one time, in the desperate hope that it would knock some sense into her. All it did was add fuel to the fire of the ever increasing headache that pounded in her temples.
“You have got to think.” She gave voice to the things that tumbled in her mind. “And quit letting fear rule you.” The image of a pair of moonlit eyes flashing silver as they stared down at her in surprise ran through her mind. He didn’t know she was a woman until he saw her lying in the snow. There was no threat in his eyes, but there was something there, something that unsettled her to her core. Cassie couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if she hadn’t gotten her gun back. She’d made herself vulnerable. She’d shown her hand too soon and now Jake Reece was suspicious of her. Another problem to add to the ever increasing pile that plagued her.
It hadn’t always been this way. There had been a time in her life when she would have laughed at the actions of the foolish Libby, and would have greeted the man on the trail with friendly caution instead of hostility. There had been a time in her life when she trusted and laughed and was filled with optimism. Now the only people she trusted were her mother and Manual and his wife Rosa, and the only thing that filled her with optimism was her never-ending practice with the guns. As for laughter, the kind that sprang forth from deep within, the kind that meant your life was full of joy and happiness, that was something she barely remembered.
“It will take time, Cassie,” Manuel said as he came into the barn with his faithful dog Max by his side. “The donkey must think she belongs or she will continue to run.”
I know just how she feels . . .
“Do you think she will run to the same place again?”
“If she has good memories of this man, then yes.”
“So we need to mix her in with the herd as soon as possible?” Cassie asked.
Manuel grinned. “The flock.”
Cassie couldn’t help but smile back. “Sorry. Still getting used to it.” The soft baa’s of the sheep drifted around the barn. How far would it carry in the still night air? How long until the local ranchers found out there was a bunch of sheep right in the middle of cattle country?
She shouldn’t even worry about what just happened. It was nothing compared to what might happen in the near future. When the word got out, and it would eventually, trouble would come calling in a hurry.
“Put her in a pen with some of the ewes so she’ll get used to them,” Cassie said. “And spoil her so she doesn’t think she’ll have it better someplace else.”
“Like Rosa does with me?” Manuel’s dark eyes sparkled as he unsaddled Puck, Cassie’s appaloosa.
“Like Rosa does with you,” Cassie agreed.
“Perhaps Rosa should take care of Libby also,” Manuel teased.
“Go tell her,” Cassie teased back. “I’m sure Libby will enjoy your company when Rosa runs you out of the house.”
Manuel’s laughter rang out joyously. Puck tossed his head along with the laughter and Max joined in with a woof. Cassie smiled, grateful for the laughter that came so easily to Manuel, even after all his tragedy. She hoped someday she would feel joy like that again.
They walked in companionable silence back to the house with Max following along beside them. The air was crisp without the frigid bite that left Cassie shivering most of the time. There were nights when she was so cold she was certain that her bones would shake loose from her skin. She hoped those nights were behind them for a while.
She could honestly say the heat was the only thing she missed about Texas. Texas had been the biggest mistake of her life, but there were some small blessings because of it. She’d met Manuel and Rosa there. Without them, she would have thought there was nothing left in the world but evil.
They stomped the snow from their boots and opened the door to mouthwatering smells. Cassie’s stomach rumbled in anticipation of the meal that Rosa was preparing. It had been a long, hard winter and they were all looking forward to something other than beans and rabbit stew.
The cabin, like the outbuildings, was nice. She hadn’t expected much but was pleased with what she found when they arrived shortly before the first snow hit last fall. It sat close to a stand of tall pines that did much to shelter it from the howling wind that roared down from the mountains. It was well built and snug, without any cracks that let in cold air. It had needed a thorough cleaning, which Rosa had attacked with ferocity, until she discovered a family of raccoons living beneath the floorboards. Manuel had deemed them harmless, saying as long as the coons were there the snakes would probably find another place to hibernate. That was all Rosa needed to hear and the raccoons stayed. The sound of their chatter led to much frustration on Max’s part but he’d finally gotten used to it and mostly ignored it by flopping on the floor over the source with a huff before adding his snores to the symphony.
Three rooms covered the main floor. One was large and stretched from front to back. It contained the kitchen and living area. A huge stone fireplace split the cabin with doors on either side that led to bedrooms. Opposite the fireplace was a narrow staircase that led to a large loft. Cassie could only assume the cabin was here when her grandfather came west. She couldn’t imagine any other reason why he needed that much room as he’d been all alone, as far as she knew.
The furniture was functional, shabby, yet sturdy, as if it had traveled far and been around for a long while. A large built-in hutch ran along the wall in the kitchen area. Between the odds and ends her grandfather had and the few pieces that survived the trip from Illinois to Texas and then to Colorado, there was plenty here for their housekeeping needs.
Cassie quickly shed her outer garments and traded her boots for a pair of fleece-lined moccasins.
Her mother sat in the rocking chair by the fire. She was wrapped in a thick shawl with her hands lying loosely in her lap and she stared at the fire, seeing nothing, as she had since that day that changed everything for both of them. Still, Cassie, always hopeful, went to her, knelt by her side and touched her right arm.
“How are you today, Momma?” she said as she picked up her right hand. Max looked up from his place on the rug and his dark eyes reflected the sadness that Cassie felt whenever she looked at her mother.
Her hair, once a pale blond like Cassie’s own, was now faded and gray, turning that way overnight in Cassie’s mind, although in reality it had been two years since the stroke that left her mother an invalid. Her blue eyes, once brighter in color than Cassie’s, were vacant and the left side of her face pulled down from paralysis. Her body slumped to the left as that part of her was dead, along with her ability to speak. Cassie wondered again, more times than she could count, if her mother was still there, inside, or if she had simply gone away after the horrors of that day and left nothing behind but an empty shell.
“She is the same as always,” Rosa said simply. “I’ve already fed her, so sit and eat.”
Once more Cassie felt the crush of disappointment. The lost hope of a miracle that would never be. How many mornings had she awakened and thought, Please God, let my mother be better today? How many evenings had she come in hoping that today there would be some sign of her mother? A slight tightening of her hand when she grasped it. A look of recognition in her eyes that said “I’m still here.”
Cassie took her place at the table and let Rosa fill her plate. As always, Rosa took her hand, and then Manuel’s, and Cassie obliged and completed the circle because she would never hurt these two people, not intentionally. Cassie closed her eyes and listened to the familiar words as Rosa prayed for the soul of their only child, a son who’d been killed shortly before his twe
ntieth birthday. Then Rosa kissed the silver cross that hung about her neck and it was time to eat.
The rest of the evening passed as usual. Cassie helped Rosa clean up after the meal. Manuel repaired a harness and Rosa picked up her knitting when the kitchen was done. Cassie read from a well-worn volume of Shakespeare and they all listened to the sounds of the raccoon family as they stirred beneath the floorboards. Finally Manuel turned Max out for the last time before bed and Rosa and Cassie led her mother to the room they shared.
Her mother was compliant as always. No change in her face as they went through the motions of putting her to bed. She no longer had control of her bodily functions so she wore a diaper, like an infant. She was changed and cleaned and a warm gown put on her before she was tucked beneath the covers. Rosa, always patient, did more for her mother than anyone should have to and Cassie was grateful. Before she left, Rosa sat on the edge of the bed and said a prayer for her mother.
Even though a chamber pot was handy, Cassie bundled up again to make the nightly trip to the outhouse. Using the chamber pot meant more work for Rosa and she did enough, in Cassie’s mind. Rosa had cared for her and her mother ceaselessly since Manuel found them, urging them to stay when they had nowhere else to go. Rosa’s heart was made of gold as far as Cassie was concerned and her place in heaven well earned.
Max bounded up to her as she stepped out onto the back stoop. The moon hung bold and bright in the crisp sky. Cassie still wasn’t used to having to look for it as it played hide-and-seek with the mountain peaks early in the evenings. Cassie had decided soon after arriving that she liked it better here. The sky seemed closer and it wasn’t as vast. One could lose oneself in a West Texas sky. She nearly had.
One of the sheep bleated and another answered it. A dark shape dashed behind the outhouse. A coyote? Max looked in the direction of the shadow and his ears rose as he listened. Cassie heard the chatter of a coon and saw the tracks in the snow. Max let out a slight whine, a sign of his never-ending frustration at not being able to rid his home of the unwanted guests. Cassie touched the top of his head to console him before she stepped onto the worn path. If it was a coyote lurking about, Max would give chase.
Cassie shivered uncontrollably as she went about her business and hurriedly arranged her clothes back into place. Since they came here, it seemed as if she couldn’t wear enough clothes or get close enough to the fire.
Max followed her into the house and went to his place on the rug by the banked fired so he had a clear view of all the doors in the cabin. If anyone came in or went out, he would know about it. Max took good care of his family.
The soft sounds of night always gave Cassie a hollow feeling inside. The murmur of Manuel’s and Rosa’s voices, so cozy within their room, only served to accent her own loneliness.
Her mother’s eyes were closed. Whether she was asleep or simply lying there Cassie could never tell, as she was always the same. Never better, never worse, just there. Cassie often wondered if her mother was even conscious of the fact that she lay beside her each night and listened to the sound of the air going in and out of her lungs, while her prayers alternated between hoping they would stop and then begging God not to take her. The problem was he already had.
Cassie had been told by a well-meaning pastor, not too long ago, that God would not give you any more troubles than you could bear. She then searched the Bible from front to back, in hopes of finding something to offer her comfort. The closest that she could find to what the pastor said was 1 Corinthians 10:13. There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.
What tempted her? Nothing. Cassie would not allow herself to be tempted. The only thing she truly asked God for was peace for her mother and the wisdom to understand what that might be. Surely this nonexistence she led could not be construed as peace.
SIX
Jake looked out over his valley. The snow was gone, either by melting or by the trampling of his herd. It still clung stubbornly to the mountains, covering the peaks with a bright white blanket that gave a chill to the air. But the sun was warm and the ground, soft with moisture, promised a coming bounty of bright green grass. His men and their horses went about their work with joy as they shook off the lazy bindings of winter.
By his count, close to a thousand cattle were spread across his valley. It hadn’t been an easy job, scaring them out of the canyons where they took shelter during the winter. Not all had made it. They’d found many dead, either from wolves or the weather. And not all of the cattle were his as they were yet to be sorted. Jake and the other ranchers knew cows did not recognize brands. Until all of the ranchers got together and figured out which cow belonged to whom, there was no way of knowing how he or anyone else had fared.
Thinking about the other ranchers brought his mind around to Cassie Parker. Had she really been here all winter long without a soul knowing it? After he’d found Sam Parker dead, Jake had poked around his place a bit and found an old family Bible. Like most Bibles, it held the history of the Parker family. It turned out Sam had a wife, once upon a time, and a son. From the dates written within, it appeared as if both died during the war. The son had a wife named Loretta and there was a daughter, Cassandra. Stuck within the pages he found a letter from the son to Sam. Jake hated to be nosy but he read it anyway. The son was a doctor for the northern forces. And he missed his wife and daughter.
Jake sent a letter to the address on the letter he found, notifying them of Sam’s death. And he couldn’t help but wonder why Sam left Illinois. Why his son went to the war. Why those who remained behind hadn’t stuck together.
If he had ever had any family that’s what he would have done.
Josie, who’d spent the two weeks since Jake brought her home chewing on every boot he owned, stuck her head out from his jacket and gave a curious woof at the spectacle before them.
“Not yet, little girl,” Jake said. “Those cows would stomp you into a puddle before you knew what hit you.” He rubbed the top of her head with his fingers and she proceeded to chew on his glove.
“Dang it, I’m not going to have anything decent left if you don’t soon outgrow this chewing stage,” he said as he pulled his finger from her mouth. Josie’s mouth followed his fingers until her eye caught the button of his coat and she went to work on that.
A shout from one of his men caught Jake’s attention. Two riders were coming from the direction of his house. Jake quickly recognized Ward’s big bay and the pale horse that Cade rode. With a flick of his heels he urged Skip forward to meet the two men.
“What brings you two out?” Jake asked when they were within speaking distance.
“I’m paying a visit to your new neighbor,” Cade said. “Thought you might want to tag along.” The three of them met up and their horses stood nose to nose so the riders could talk. Josie whined and tried to claw her way out of Jake’s jacket when she caught sight of Ward. Ward reached over and rubbed her head. She caught a fit of the wiggles so Jake handed her over to Ward. Ward settled Josie into his lap where she promptly started chewing on the horn of his saddle.
“I thought it might be a good idea,” Ward volunteered as he tried to pry Josie’s teeth off his saddle. “Kind of a good-news-bad-news thing. And while you’re there you can invite her to the Cattlemen’s Association meeting. Have you set a date for it yet?”
“Yes, this Thursday,” Jake said. “And what the heck does good-news-bad-news have to do with me?”
“Gus, being the mayor, is all worried about Miss Parker paying her back taxes,” Cade explained. “And since you got the information on the account you set up in Sam’s name after you sold off his stock . . .”
“It wouldn’t seem so downright rude,” Ward finished for him. “I can’t im
agine anyone would be too sociable when the first thing you tell them is that you’re there to collect money.”
“She sure as heck wasn’t worried about rude when she ambushed me on the trail two weeks ago,” Jake said. “Seemed to me she was more worried about my cussing than whether or not I was being polite.”
“Jake, seeing as how I’ve heard you cuss, I can’t say that I blame her,” Ward said with a grin.
“I think we can all agree that Miss Parker isn’t the friendly sort,” Cade said. “But like it or not, she still owes taxes on her property and Gus sent me out here to make sure the town gets paid. And if the town gets paid that means I get paid, so I’m kind of personally invested in the entire process. You can come with us, or we’d be happy to deliver the news about her money, if you want to give us the details.”
“I’ll ride along,” Jake said. “Your company is better than what I’ve had lately. Just let me swing by the house and pick up the bank book.”
“It looks like the pup is working out all right,” Ward said as he handed Josie back.
“Josie?” Jake rubbed her head as she attacked the button of his coat once more. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a shortage of good leather boots, and all my table and chair legs look like they’ve been chopped with an axe.”
“So you’re saying she’s a chewer?” Ward said dryly.
“Just a bit.”
“Give her some bones to gnaw on,” Cade suggested. “Something with gristle.”
“Next time we butcher, I will,” Jake said. “If my house lasts that long. Did you find homes for the rest of the puppies?”
“Jared Castle took two of them. A miner showed up and his pretty daughter took a liking to one and took it with her. Believe it or not, Zeke took one and the stage driver took the last one home to his wife.”