Cassidy (Big Sky Dreams 1) (2 page)

"How did it go in town?" Meg asked.

"Fine. Did you nap?" Brad wasted no time in asking.

"Are your ankles swollen?"

Meg looked at him with a certain measure of exasperation and said, "Brad, I want to ask you about your mother and Jeanette."

"You can do that over supper," Brad said, having taken her hand. He led her to the living room and pointed to the' sofa. "Sit down and put your feet up."

"I think I'll be all right."

Brad smiled and put his arms around her. The action was so tender that tears threatened, but Meg swallowed them back.

"Thank you for working so hard," he spoke softly in her ear, "and trying to make everything just right, but you have to take care of you."

Without warning Brad bent and lifted Meg in his arms, placing her carefully on the sofa. She wasn't lying completely back, but her feet were up, and if she put her head back, it would rest on one of the pillows she'd stitched by hand.

Meg tried one last tactic. "It's almost time to start supper."

"I'll be back for you in less than an hour. Even if you fall asleep, I won't let you stay out too long."

The look she gave him was slightly mutinous, and seeing it, Brad's gaze shifted to her legs. He lifted the hem of her dress enough

12to see, her bare feet. There was little distinction between her calves and ankles. By the time he met his wife's gaze, his look had become stern.

"Don't you move," Brad said quietly. "I'll be back in an hour." Meg didn't argue this time. She worried about things she wanted to get done until she fell asleep.

Cassidy closed and locked her shop door at the end of the workday and turned toward the Bank of Token Creek. It was her habit to close before the bank shut its doors for the night so she could make deposits she felt would be securer in the bank's safe.

Not even looking at the teller windows, she went to the manager's desk, smiling when the manager saw her and stood.

"Hello, Cassie," Chandler Di Fiore said, smiling in genuine pleasure at the sight of her.

"Hi, Chandler. How are you?"

"Fine. Were you busy today?"

"Steady all day. Just the way I like it. How about here?"

"A little quiet," Chandler said, counting the currency Cassidy had given him and writing the amount in her bankbook.

Cassidy took the book back when he handed it to her and studied the last total. She was doing fine with her expenses but tended to worry about the future. Having become lost in the facts and figures in her mind, it took a moment to realize that Chandler was watching her.

"I'm sorry," Cassidy said with a laugh.

"Did I make a mistake?" Chandler asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

"Not at all. I was just making sure I had figured right for the month."

"Are you going to be all right?" he asked, completely serious. "Yes, Chandler, thank you."

"You're sure?" he asked, sincerely concerned.

13 "Yes," Cassidy smiled as she spoke and began to turn to the door.

"Wait a minute." Chandler stopped her. "Rylan had to cancel our men's study tonight," the banker said, speaking of their pastor. "Why don't we go for a walk?"

"What time?" Cassidy asked, liking the idea.

They decided when Chandler would come and get her, and Cassidy went on her way. For some reason Tuesday evenings tended to be lonely. Cassidy's steps were light because she knew that would not be the case tonight.

Meg woke up with Brad's hands on her face and hair. He touched her gently, calling her name as she drifted back from deep sleep. "Oh, Brad," she whispered. "Did I fall asleep?"

"You must have."

"I was cross with you," she said.

"I was cross right back," he admitted.

They looked at each other for a few minutes, and then Meg struggled to sit up. Brad helped her, and that was when she smelled supper cooking.

"How long did I sleep?"

"Only an hour, but Trace said he's starving."

Meg laughed a little, standing and stretching her back before starting toward the kitchen.

Meg and Brad had been married for only two years, so the men both knew their way around this kitchen. For that reason, the three of them fell to preparing the meal as naturally as breathing. Within twenty minutes, they were sitting down, Brad leading in prayer.

"Thank You, Father, for this food and the blessings we've enjoyed this day. Thank You for this family and this home. Please bless our efforts with the ranch and help us to remember that it's all from You. I ask that You take care of this baby inside Meg and that You

14take care of her in the weeks to come. Please provide a godly wife for Trace and help each of us to honor You in our lives. In Your Son's name I pray. Amen."

Both Meg and Trace echoed the amen, appreciating Brad's honest faith before the Lord. They passed bowls and began the meal. Not surprisingly, beef was on the menu, but so was a huge bowl of potatoes, early corn, baking powder biscuits with honey, and for dessert, a lavishly frosted spice cake.

"So how is your mother?" Meg asked the moment their plates were full.

"The same," Trace answered.

"Did that bother you today?" Brad asked, having remembered his brother's brief conversation with Jeanette.

"It did. I never just sit and look at her. We always try to talk to her, and today I realized how much I miss having her contribute to the conversation."

"But she wasn't agitated?" Meg checked. "You got to stay and speak with her?"

"Yes," Trace nodded. "It was nice in that way."

"She moved a little when Trace spoke," Brad remembered. "I still think she hears Pa. Oh," he continued, "Jeanette wants us in next week, Friday night, to celebrate your birthday. She wants to know whom you want to invite."

"Can I tell her on Sunday?" Meg asked.

"That's what I told her you would say," Brad said, smiling at his wife.

"I hate being predictable," Meg said, smiling back.

"I'll take predictable any time," Brad teased her dryly before the three began to discuss the guests Meg would want at the party.

The entrance to the apartment above Cassidy's shop was accessed from an outside stairway. Chandler climbed these outside stairs at

15about seven o'clock and knocked. Cassidy came right to the door, sweater in hand in case it cooled off before they got home.

"Ready?" Chandler asked politely; he was always polite.

"Yes. Is it very cold?"

"Not yet, but that sun is dropping."

The two started off, talking companionably about their jobs for the first block. Then Cassidy asked Chandler about his mother. She knew he'd heard from his family, who lived in the East, that her health had been in question.

"They think it's her heart," Chandler confided, having just gotten another letter from his sister. "She gets tired easily, but her spirits are good."

"That's good to hear. I can't remember, Chandler. Does your family share your faith in Christ?"

"Yes," Chandler answered, smiling at a memory. "I was seven and stole some money from my father's drawer. I came to Christ when my father talked to me about how serious my sin was, and how I would answer to God for all sins that were not covered in Him. I remember how familiar the words were, so I know I'd heard about salvation before, but I had never made that commitment myself."

"But you did that day?"

"Yes. My father had already punished me for stealing and then lying about it, but later, when the tears were dry, he told me he feared for me and explained salvation. Even as a little boy, I knew a peace after I'd prayed. I knew it was real that day."

Cassidy smiled at him as they continued to walk. It was wonderful to hear his story. She had not come from a home that was as settled as Chandler's. For reasons that were almost too hard to think about, she had had no contact with them since moving to Token Creek.

"That's a thoughtful face," Chandler mentioned.

"Just thinking about families. You must miss yours."

"I do miss them. It's been more than two years since I visited. I'm thinking about going back for a visit in the fall."

16"Who does your job at the bank when you're away?" Cassidy asked, and the two talked about that for a while. Before it grew too dark to continue, they had covered myriad topics. At the end of the walk, Cassidy climbed the stairs feeling very content. It had been a very satisfying way to spend an evening and gave her much to write about.

Not many minutes later, she was ready for bed, her summer nightgown in place, her blonde hair hanging down her back, and her writing paper in hand.

Mrs. Ferguson found a hornets' nest outside her shop today,
Cassidy wrote to her mother.
Remembering how you always handled them, I got the broom and then did my best not to It was in the front of the shop, and customers were scarce for a while, although entertained I'm sure, but no one was stung and the nest is gone.

Cassidy went on to tell her mother about the customers of the day and her walk with Chandler. The
good-looking banker,
as Cassidy liked to call him. She didn't try to write too much, but as always her heart felt lighter just from sharing.

The letter done, she folded it carefully and reached for the carved wooden box that sat on her bedside table. This letter, along with all the others she'd written to her mother, went safely inside because it wasn't possible to send it. The task done and her heart prayerful, Cassidy settled down to sleep.

"You're drooping, love," Brad said to Meg, who sat next to him on the davenport.

"I'm tired."

"Go to bed."

"I don't want to
go
to bed; I want to
be
in bed."

Brad laughed at this but knew how true it was. Sometimes climbing the stairs and readying for bed was the hardest part of the day.

17"I'm going," Meg said, pushing to her feet and telling the men goodnight.

Trace surfaced from the book he was reading long enough to tell his sister-in-law goodnight. Brad told his wife he'd be right behind her before looking down at the account book he had been poring over.

"What are you frowning about?" Trace asked, having noticed his face.

"Just thinking."

"Are we in trouble?"

"No," Brad said, but he didn't sound as convincing as Trace would have liked. "I'm for bed," the older Holden said as he closed the ledger and rose to follow his wife.

Trace went back to his book, but only for a moment. Brad had him curious. He soon set the novel aside to study the ranch accounts.

18

"DoYOU HAVE TIMEto sew a button on my shirt, Meg?" Trace asked in the morning, coming bare-chested into the room.

"Sure," Meg agreed, thinking nothing of his lack of attire. "Bring it here."

Meg and Brad were in the midst of breakfast, but Trace had slept in a bit.

"I went over the books last night," Trace said to Brad after he'd poured himself some coffee and reached for the eggs.

"Problems?" Brad asked.

"No, but it got me to thinking about last year's market. I didn't sleep too well."

Brad nodded. The men had driven their cattle to market in the fall and not received nearly the price they'd expected. It had been a huge disappointment and forced them to cut corners here and there.

"I'm headed out," Trace said, after a rather small breakfast. "Thanks for the shirt, Meg."

"You're welcome."

"Where are you going to be?" Brad asked.

"On the west side."

19"I'll come with you." Brad finished his own breakfast in a hurry, kissed his wife, and went out the door.

Meg poured herself another cup of coffee, ignored the dishes, and reached for her Bible, very thankful and happy it was Wednesday, which meant Cassidy would be arriving after lunch.

"How does that look?" Jeanette asked Cassidy to check the hem on a man's shirt she'd been working on. The gentleman who ordered it was particular, and Jeanette wasn't sure he'd be satisfied.

"You might want to fix that one spot," Cassidy pointed out, "but I think the rest looks good. I'll know in the morning if he's pleased."

Jeanette looked at the younger woman for a moment, thinking, not for the first time, that she was special. Even when a customer was unhappy with the work, Cassidy never blamed Jeanette. As proprietress she took responsibility and never made excuses.

"Has Mrs. Potts been here yet?" Jeanette remembered to ask. "Just before you came in."

"Was she pleased?"

"Thrilled
was the word she used."

"If only they were all like that," Jeanette muttered.

"We'd be bored to tears," Cassidy said.

"Please, Lord," Jeanette joked, "give me some boredom." Cassidy laughed before turning back to the sewing machine.