She did know Norman York, and she tried to remember Leota Pickett’s husband and the little Pickett children. Children were a rarity in Divide and they were enchanting to her. She was sure she’d never forget their names.
Then as quickly as the people began crowding in, everyone settled into silence, and Red left her side and stood close to the heating stove. He said, “Let’s start with a prayer.”
Cassie found herself startled to have her husband in charge. Of course she’d known he was leading the service. He’d said so often enough. But somehow she hadn’t really thought what that meant. It had just seemed like another of his many jobs. Now a strong surge of pride in her handsome husband swelled in her chest as he took charge of this large group.
She remembered the fire-and-brimstone preaching she’d grown up with in Illinois, and she waited for that kind of intensity to come out of Red. But Red just stayed his sweet, quiet self. He prayed in front of all these people with the same casual, loving manner he’d used before their meals.
Halfway through his prayer—Cassie expected it was only halfway because she’d heard a lot of praying as a child and knew it was a lengthy proceeding—Red said, “Many petitions in prayer are pleasing to the Lord. Would anyone like some concern of his heart lifted up to God?” A deep voice behind her spoke to God about his brother’s broken leg healing straight and strong. Another asked for his ailing mother in St. Louis to be remembered. And so it went. There were many needs in the West and many worries.
She could sense burdens lifting as they all put their worries before God and prayed together. She didn’t speak out loud, but for the first time in a long time, she prayed, too. She prayed for her baby’s health and for Red’s safety and for more of the chickens to come back. Then Red surprised her by resting his hand on her shoulder. He’d moved away from her when he’d started talking, but he had moved closer to her during the prayer. He prayed for Griff, for God to shelter his immortal soul. Then Red thanked God for her.
Cassie couldn’t contain a tiny gasp of pleasure. Red didn’t ask God to make her less clumsy and stupid. He didn’t pray for childlike Cassie Griffin Dawson to quit shaming him and grow up. He thanked God so kindly for making her his wife that she couldn’t help but believe he meant it. And he prayed for the baby and prayed quite fervently for Muriel to get there in plenty of time to help deliver it. That made everyone laugh, which Cassie didn’t understand, but the laughter, laced with the sweet prayer and Red’s kindhearted thanks for her, had lifted her spirits so that she laughed a little herself with the pure pleasure of the day.
Then Red said his, “Amen,” and moved back to where he’d stood in front of everyone and started talking about marriage. He didn’t preach a sermon like any she’d heard before, and the congregation seemed to feel free to interrupt him as often as they liked. One man said marriage was a bad subject since so few of them were married.
Red said, “Leave your cattle to the wolves and go find a wife. It’s worth it.”
Everyone laughed and Cassie was so pleased with Red she was sorely tempted to cry.
He talked about a wife obeying her husband and how all the burden lay with the husband, because he is called to love her more than his own body and to never do anything to harm her soul, so a man must never ask a woman to obey anything that is against her own ideas of right and wrong.
Seth told him to change the subject before Muriel got the bit in her teeth.
Muriel said, “When have I ever obeyed you anyway, old man?”
All in all it was the oddest and most wonderful church service Cassie had ever attended. It didn’t escape Cassie’s notice that Red very quietly kept things from straying from the basic subject of his selected Bible verse.
A spirited debate bounced back and forth between people of goodwill with lots of laughter and a warm display of genuine love between the three married couples: the Bates, the Jeffreys, and the Picketts. It dawned on Cassie after a bit that she hadn’t included the Dawsons in that count of married people.
And as she thought of the questions Red had asked and how they applied to her, she thought, I’ll be proud to obey you, Red.
The whole room turned to face her and it took her a second to realize she must have spoken her thoughts aloud. She wasn’t sure if she blushed or not. She’d done so much of it lately it was getting harder and harder to humiliate herself. It didn’t matter. They wouldn’t have stared at her any harder if she’d grown a second head.
Red moved from his spot at the front of the group and stood beside her.
Cassie wasn’t sure if her outspoken comment had shamed him or not, and despite everything she’d learned about Red this week, she couldn’t control the surge of fear that he would punish her for talking out loud in public like that.
“Cass, I am a lucky man. I reckon you will obey me, ‘cuz you’re such a sweet thing, you’d just naturally do your best to make me happy. But I want you to know I won’t ask you to go against your conscience, and I’ll listen if you disagree with me. And if you are ever upset with me, it’ll be as much my doing as yours, so you can speak right out and never be afraid of me.”
Cassie remembered her first wedding to Griff, with her wild desire to die along with him and her terror of the Sawyers and the surly mob keeping her ears deaf to what was being said. Now they stood before believers and Cassie looked into Red’s eyes. “I’m lucky, too. Thank you for marrying me. I know you didn’t want to.”
Red smiled. “I didn’t think I should, but that’s a long way from not wanting to. I wanted to marry you something fierce, Cass honey.”
He leaned down, and Cassie thought he was going to kiss her. They hadn’t kissed since their wedding night, and that had been her doing. Although she’d dreamed that he’d kissed her hair several times while she’d slept beside him and the dreams had been nice. Now maybe he was going to do it for real.
Wade Sawyer chose that minute to slam the door open. “I got an order here, Seth. I need it right now!”
Wade’s belligerence broke into the pleasant church service and garnered everybody’s attention.
Muriel slammed her fists on her hips and stepped in front of Wade. “See here, Wade. We’re closed on the Lord’s Day and well you know it.”
Wade swaggered up to Seth, who had stepped to Muriel’s side. He ignored Muriel as if she were nothing more than a buzzing mosquito to be brushed aside as a nuisance. “I’ve ridden all the way into town and you’re here doin’ nothin’. I’m not goin’ back without my order. You’ve done enough Bible thumpin’ for the week.”
Seth said quietly, “We’ve been over this before, Wade. There’s someone in from the Sawyer outfit nearly every day of the week. I know for a fact you were in town yesterday.”
“Don’t tell me you won’t fill my order.” Wade stepped forward, looking hard into Seth’s eyes. “I saw Belle Tanner loading a wagon just last week. If you’ll do it for that woman, you’ll do it for me and like it.”
“Belle had to make a special trip and she almost never comes to town from clear out where she lives. Of course I was willing to help her out. The Sawyer place is right outside of town. Leave the order. We’ll have it ready first thing tomorrow, and when someone from your ranch is in town, he can pick it up.”
Wade’s eyes narrowed, then they shifted past the Bates and found Cassie.
Dread twisted in her gut like it always did when Wade was too near. She saw in his greedy green eyes that awful hunger, that fixated look that was only for her. He hadn’t come in here to get supplies. He’d come in because he’d known she was here.
That sounded like her pride talking, thinking Wade was interested in her. But for whatever reason, it was true. She knew it. Wade’s eyes reminded her that she knew how to shoot a gun—she was quick and accurate, and just maybe, with those mean eyes on her, she could even find the courage to pull the trigger. Of course this was the second time in a week that she’d come face-to-face with Wade and didn’t have her gun handy.
&n
bsp; She took a step back and bumped into Red. He put his arm around her waist. Red’s hand was an anchor in a sea of fear. She grabbed his hand with both of hers and held it firmly around her.
“Miz Griffin.” Wade tipped his hat.
“It’s Dawson now,” Red corrected him in a mild tone.
“Oh, yeah. The widow lady remarried. I seem to remember she was so anxious for a man that she stood plumb on the fresh-turned dirt of her dead husband to take her vows.”
Several people in the crowd gasped. Cassie didn’t know if it was because of her and the location of her marriage or Wade’s callous words.
“Wherever she took her vows, Wade, she took ’em.” Red sounded so quiet, but Cassie heard the strength behind his words and hung on to him even harder.
Wade reached one hand into his pocket and several men tensed as his hand moved near the gun that hung low on his hip.
Cassie remembered again that she’d learned to shoot, but now she didn’t even have a gun anymore. It had been lost when her home had been taken for the mortgage.
Wade pulled something from his pocket. “Me and Pa are runnin’ your old place, china doll. The bank took everything you and your worthless husband had left. We found some things left behind. It’s trash but you might want it.” Wade unfolded what he was holding and very deliberately pulled his knife and slashed it in half, then slashed it again. He wadded up the pieces into a tight ball and tossed them at Cassie.
Cassie flinched away, but Red’s hand came up and deftly caught them. Cassie reached for them, but Red whispered, “Later, Cass. Not in front of Wade.”
Wade said, “We’ll use your house for a line shack. It’s a fool’s house. Too big to heat and too far from our ranch for any use. Maybe we can store hay in it.”
Cassie was surprised that his insults toward her house didn’t upset her. The fact that she didn’t care about the house gave her the strength to face Wade straight on and wave her hand carelessly. “If the house is yours, then do with it what you will. It’s nothing to me.”
“Even after the floors rot and the rats move in it’ll be better than the hole you’re livin’ in now with Dawson.”
Cassie gasped indignantly. Odd how the slur against Griff’s house left her unmoved but his insults to Red’s house were fighting words. She met Wade’s eyes but she couldn’t hold the look. Wade’s eyes burned with something that had always scared her. She still had the china doll inside her, and she said placidly, “Red’s got a wonderful home. We have everything we need.”
Wade’s face contorted into rage. “So then you must have Dawson bowin’ and scrapin’ for you just like you had Griffin.”
Cassie saw Wade’s weasel eyes shift to Red. “I often wondered what she did for Griff that he’d let her walk all over him like that. Tell me, Dawson. Does she earn your favors like a real flesh-and-blood woman? Or is she as cold as the china doll she seems to be?”
Red suddenly moved, and Cassie felt his anger at Wade’s crudity. She caught him with a quick backward move of her hands.
She said clearly, so clearly that it was possible Mort Sawyer could have heard her out at the ranch, “Remember we’re in church, Red. And remember the man who won has to be big enough to stand a few temper tantrums from the loser.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled sweetly at Red.
He glared down at her for a second, obviously frustrated, then he relaxed. “Only ‘cuz we’re in church, Cass. The ‘temper tantrum’ comment from you wouldn’t have saved him any other time.”
“Saved me?” Wade blustered. “The day a man can hide behind a woman’s skirts and that’ll stop …”
“Enough, Sawyer. We’re in the middle of church.” This was from Norm York. “Your pa wanted Cassie’s spring and he paid a fair price for it. You Sawyers got what you wanted. You’ve no call to come in here insulting a fine woman and threatening Red. You’re standing in front of dozens of witnesses to your actions, and you can’t get away with starting anything. And if something happens to them any other time, you’re the first one we’ll come looking for. So you’d better pray they don’t even accidentally get hurt. If you want to stay and hear the preaching, we welcome you.”
Suddenly Mr. York’s voice became very sincere. “We do, Wade. Forget all this anger and stay. We have God here with us, and you need to hear about Him. There is always room for anyone who wants to worship the Lord. But the store is closed on Sunday and always has been, as you well know. We need to get back to services.”
Cassie noticed that every man in the place squared off against Wade, some moving to place themselves between Wade and her until she couldn’t see him anymore. Even though anyone from out of town would have a rifle on his horse because of the dangers along the trail, none of them brought a gun into church. Wade was the only one armed.
Seconds stretched to a minute.
Cassie leaned sideways to see Wade. His eyes, burning with anger, shifted from one man to another. He flexed his fingers as if fighting the urge to destroy anyone who thwarted him. His eyes connected with Cassie and they held. Under the anger and hunger, Cassie saw something else. Some deep longing that told her Wade wasn’t just fighting because he was a troublemaker. Wade’s desperate yearning aimed straight at her made her shudder deep inside.
With a sneer, Wade’s hand dropped away from his gun. “This isn’t over, Dawson. You got what’s mine and I aim to get it back.”
She couldn’t see him anymore, and she stayed behind Red, not wanting Wade’s eyes on her. But she heard the obsession in his voice, and icy fingers of fear crawled up her spine and grabbed at her throat.
She saw him again as he turned and wrenched the door open, slamming it behind him so hard the glass rattled.
The congregation stood silently for a moment. Cassie saw fear on many of the men’s faces. She knew the ruthless Sawyer bunch had made dreadful enemies.
Finally Red broke the silence. “Let’s bow our heads and pray for Wade and his father.”
Several people turned sharply to face Red, their faces revealing they were not ready to let go of their anger or fear. Most nodded soberly.
“He’s so lost,” Muriel said.
Cassie couldn’t believe the gentle murmur of agreement. Not a minute ago a fight brewed that might end in the deaths of some of the people in this room. Now they were praying for a man they so obviously feared.
She thought of her practice with Griff’s gun and her own desperate plans to protect herself. Never for a second had she considered praying for Wade. This was a kind of Christianity that Cassie didn’t understand.
A peace settled over her as Red’s comforting voice started talking to God in a way that made it seem God was a personal friend.
Cassie prayed that God would be her friend, too.
CHAPTER 14
Cassie wondered about the papers in Red’s pocket as the church service wound down, the general store was put back to rights, and she and Red prepared to head for home.
He lifted her onto his horse, and she decided to get settled into Buck’s gallop before she asked.
She awoke when he swung off the horse in front of their house. He was still holding her.
She insisted she could walk.
He just nodded. “I know you can, Cass honey.” He carried her inside and set her on a chair.
“Thank you, Red.” She didn’t admit it, because it made her feel like a burden, but she was secretly glad she hadn’t needed to use her shaky legs.
She sat on the chair, letting her head clear for a few seconds. And then she remembered Wade. “What was it Wade tore up?”
“Let’s see.” Red pulled the wad of paper out of his pocket and smoothed it.
Cassie recognized it. “My family portraits and the painting of the countess.”
Tears burned sharply across her eyes. She forced herself to say what Griff would have wanted to hear. “It’s…it’s only portraits. It’s all frivolity.”
Red lay the mangled pieces of paper and canvas side by sid
e on the table. “They’re not frivolous. We’ll fix ’em. They won’t be nice like before, but we’ll remember what your family looked like, and that’s the real point of portraits, right?”
Cassie thought of how lovingly she’d cared for those paintings all of her life and her mother before her, so there was never any damage to the canvas and no sun faded the color. But what Red said about remembering lifted the dark sorrow from her heart. Griff’s voice, accusing her of childish longing for unimportant things, faded.
“You’re exactly right. The portraits are important.” She smiled up at him as he bent near her shoulder, arranging the portraits. Red knew why they were important, and that reason wasn’t lost because of wrinkled paper, nor was it frivolous. She felt immensely better and began helping him put the pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle.
Red produced another paper from his pocket and bent over her shoulder to smooth it out on the table. They had copied all her ancestors’ names out of her old family Bible. As they worked on the torn portraits, Red asked, “Did you mean it about the Bible, Cass? You weren’t just being brave? It’s a beautiful old book. I’ve never seen one so big and grand. If you want to keep it, we can think of something.”
“It’s not even in a language we can read.” Cassie shook her head. “Of all the things we might save from my past, I think the Bible is the least important. And Mr. York seems to think he might get more from it than even the mortgage price. I like your Bible better. Maybe there’s a place in it for my family’s names.”
Red glanced sideways at her and smiled. “There is. I got this Bible new so I’ve never written in the pages set aside for that kind of thing.”
The smile warmed Cassie’s heart as their gazes held for a long moment. Then Red turned back to the tabletop. The portraits began to take shape in front of them. “These folks are your mother’s grandparents, right, Cass? And the oil painting is the countess?”
“Yes, my grandfather was one of the original executives who began building the railroad.” Cassie pointed to a stern-looking man with a slight twinkle in his eye. “My grandmother was one of the finest hostesses in New York. Mother always said I looked just like her and she looked like the countess. I just barely remember them. They came to visit us in Illinois several times, but Grandfather died the year after my father, and Grandmother just a few years after that.”
Mary Connealy Page 14