Mary Connealy (34 page)

That, plus the barnyard chores, kept him busy because he was battling five-foot drifts and whipping winds every step of the way. Then he’d get inside as quickly as he could, even though he wanted to drag his heels, and there would be Cassie, ranting at him for abandoning her.

The blizzard lasted three days. When the snow stopped, the storm seemed to ease inside Cassie, too. Red came inside from watering Rosie one afternoon about sunset and found Cassie dressed and at the fireplace cooking.

He shut the door quickly to keep the heat inside, and she whirled around to greet him with a big smile on her face. Red was struck by the smile. It wasn’t the beautiful, serene smile he’d come to expect from his demure little wife, and it sure as certain wasn’t the perpetual scowl that he’d learned she was capable of in the last three days. It was a smile full of joy and sass.

Cassie’s eyes snapped with pleasure at seeing him. She hurried over to him and started unwrapping the strips of leather that held on his cowhide robe. “You’d better plan on building some kind of entryway so the winter wind doesn’t come straight into the house. It gets twenty degrees colder every time that door opens.”

“Good idea.” Red was struck by how much that would help. Why hadn’t he thought of it? “Should you be out of bed? I don’t want you to overdo it.”

She fussed at him, tugged at the frozen leather, and shooed him toward a chair facing the fire. “Sit down and let me help you with your boots. Your fingers are near frozen. Poor man to be out in such weather. The least I can do is help you warm up.”

She had his outer clothes off in a minute, then she studied his face for a long second. “You’re going to frostbite your nose if you’re not careful. Here, let me warm your face.” She laid her open hands over his cheeks, and the warmth of her touch made his skin sting.

Red stirred under her touch. “No sense both of us being cold, Cass. Let me sit by the fire. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

She ignored his protests and touched her thumbs to his nose. “Just sit still and let me help you.”

Red almost reached for her hands and pushed her aside, so alarmed was he at the chill she might be catching, but he thought of the change in her from the china doll to the shrew to whoever she was now and decided he’d just mind her for a bit.

It really did make Red’s face feel better to have Cassie’s hands on him, and on a sudden impulse, he pulled her onto his lap. “There, warm my face from there, darlin’.”

Cassie squeaked with surprise, but after a second of forgetting where her hands were as she flapped them at him, she returned them to his cheeks.

“This feels great, Cassie. Thank you. Are you sure it’s okay for you to be up?”

Cassie shrugged. “I woke up from my afternoon nap feeling restless, so I took it a step at a time and got up. I’ll quit if I get tired and dump everything right back on you.” She gave him an impudent grin and raised one hand to lay it on his forehead.

“I’m fine now. I’ve been thawing out single-handedly for years, you know.”

Cassie nodded. “I know.” She left her hands right where they were. “But you’ve got white spots on your cheeks. I noticed them yesterday, too. I’ve never seen them before. It’s a terrible cold day, isn’t it?”

“As bad as it gets, I reckon.”

“And you’ve been out with the cattle even in this blizzard.”

“The worst is over. And all this snow will fill the creeks and ponds in the spring.”

Cassie bobbed her chin silently as she studied his face. She lifted her hands away. “It’s better, just red now. I’ve seen frostbite, Red. It’s nothing to fool around with.”

“It’s worst on fingers and toes, and I’m careful with them.”

Cassie smiled. “Good for you. Now let me up so I can get your supper finished.” She pressed her hands on his shoulders.

His hands, which had been resting lightly around her waist, tightened. He could have sworn they did it of their own accord because he didn’t remember thinking it through. And he definitely didn’t plan in advance to kiss her.

Red hadn’t done much kissing in his life. But somehow, with Cassie, he found a surprising talent for the activity. At least he thought so if Cassie’s response was any indication. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her head tilted just enough so their noses didn’t bump, and she settled herself firmly against him, or at least she didn’t object when he urged her close. He wasn’t sure who was moving first because they were both going exactly the same way. He thought maybe, just maybe, they were both the most talented smoochers who ever lived. He’d have liked to study the question more thoroughly, but Susannah picked that moment to start hollering from in the bedroom.

Cassie leaped off his lap as if a lightning bolt had struck her. She hustled from the room without a backward glance and went to fetch the baby. She came out with the squirming bundle in her arms and a smile big enough to light up a long Montana winter night on her face.

She didn’t look at him and he experienced a pang of jealousy, until he decided that she was
not
looking at him too thoroughly and just maybe she was disconcerted by what had passed between them.

“Take this chair.” He stood. “I want you and Susannah to be warm while she eats. I’ll get supper, and tomorrow I’m gonna build you a rocking chair.”

“Oh, Red.” Cassie looked up at him, and the pink flush on her cheeks told him he was right about her embarrassment. She seemed to forget it now that he’d turned her attention. “You’re so busy. You don’t need to do another thing for me. I’ll get supper.”

“Sit, woman.” Red lifted the chair and set it back down with a firm
crack.

Cassie reacted by smiling at him. “Yes, sir. If you insist. I was going to make one of the steaks you brought in from the steer.”

“I can do steaks,” Red said. “Were you going to use the spit in the fireplace?”

Cassie shook her head. “I’d planned to fry them.”

“Let me show you how we eat ’em on a cattle drive. It’s primitive but it’s good. Cattle drive cookin’ is about all I know besides eggs and ham.”

Cassie sat, dividing her attention between the baby and Red’s cooking efforts. He had the sizzling steaks ready by the time Susannah was done and well burped. Cassie changed the baby’s diaper while Red moved the crib out near the fire and debated with Cassie about how close it should be. Then the two of them sat and ate with the baby lying nearby, kicking and making an occasional little noise.

Susannah got bored and fell asleep. Red noticed Cassie’s eyes growing heavy. He insisted she go back to bed, and although she protested, he won the round and settled her and the baby in the back room.

He cleaned up the kitchen without paying attention to his work. He was busy reliving Cassie warming his face with her hands. And with her lips.

He realized that, with Cassie at his side, he could learn to love the bitter Montana winter.

Belle struggled to her feet after milking the cow. The animal was as round as Belle and would have her calf around the same spring date as Belle got herself her last child. She swore to herself it would be the last.

God, please let it be a girl.

Anthony chose that moment to stroll into the barn from the bitter outside. The man was a living, breathing, walking, talking testament to the general worthlessness of men—Red Dawson notwithstanding. Coming close enough to see how awkward she was, fat with their child, Anthony never so much as offered her a hand, and he certainly didn’t say he’d do the milking. The rat didn’t even offer to carry the bucket of milk.

Belle didn’t snap at him as she would have at one time. Making a serious effort, she kept the scowl off her face. Instead, she smiled. “Let’s walk back to the house and talk about what we’re going to name the baby. There should be hot coffee and I…uh…we could use a cup.” She could use the coffee, because she’d been freezing in the bitter cold of the barn and had been outside working all morning. Two hours before breakfast, and now two hours since. She had three more hours to go before time for the noon meal.

Anthony, on the other hand, had gotten out of bed to eat then had gone back to sleep for a while. He claimed his back would fail him completely if he got up and moving around too early in that cold little cabin. And it was too cold to sit under the Husband Tree or atop the house.

She mentioned none of that. She was a changed woman. A woman trying to do her best to be a good wife. As if doing all the work didn’t make her good enough.

Sorry, Lord. I didn’t mean to let slip with evil, unwifely thoughts.

At least, with the gap snowed shut, Anthony hadn’t been able to go to town. Which saved him wheedling a dollar out of her. Of course that meant he was underfoot all the time. His absence was well worth the dollar she gave him twice a week.

She didn’t say that either. But oh, how she wanted to. Inhaling slowly to regain her self control, she smiled at Anthony. “Now then, about the baby …”

“Her name will be Caterina. It was my ma’s name and it’ll be my child’s if it’s a girl. It’s likely a useless hope that you can birth a son. I’d prefer it but I hold out little hope. If it’s a boy, it will be named after me—Antonio.”

“Antonio is your real name?” This was beyond bad that she’d never known. She’d always thought it was Anthony.

“Yes, I adopted an American form of it and my son can, too, but I am named for my father and now my son will be named for me.”

God, please let it be a girl. Please, Lord. Please, please, please.

“Those names will be fine.” Caterina was no decent name for a child. And if, God forbid, she had a son
—God, please let it be a girl
—she would do her best to train him up to be less useless than the average man and she’d call him Tony. She realized she was assuming Anthony would be dead and would have no say in the child’s name. There were, of course, no guarantees. It was most certainly a sin for her to hope against hope.

They reached the house and entered.

Sarah was hard at work on dinner. She had a stew cooking, savory and warm.

Belle smiled at her daughter and handed over the milk.

“Thanks, Ma. Coffee’s hot.” Sarah poured a cup, giving Anthony a doubtful smile. The child had to work on her false politeness.

Belle hoped her own attempts at being nice were more successful.

“We’ve just been talking about the baby. Anthony wants the name Caterina if it’s a girl and Antonio if it’s a boy.”

“You think you might have a boy?” Sarah frowned little furrows into her forehead. She pulled the cloth out they used to strain the milk and worked as she talked.

“Most likely not,” Anthony sneered. “Your mother doesn’t seem able to produce a proper male child.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “Those are weird names. Can’t we call her something normal, like Elizabeth or Ann?”

“It’s settled.” Anthony took the cup from Sarah as she extended it toward Belle.

Sarah rolled her eyes behind Anthony’s back and poured another cup.

It was moments like this that Belle remembered clearly why she’d never wasted much time talking with her husband. It was a useless pastime.

“Thanks.” Belle accepted her cup of coffee. “The dinner smells great. You’ve got it on early enough that it can simmer a long while. It will taste perfect this cold day.”

“Sarah, go outside. I need to have a long talk with your ma.” Anthony looked at Belle and she shuddered, though she tried to hide it. She knew that look. Where was her skillet?

Sarah glanced at Belle.

“Go on, honey. We just need to…talk…a bit more.” Belle spotted the cast iron, within easy grasp. Anthony was no match for her. They’d been through this before when he was snowed in overly long. Sure she was his wife, but being polite only went so far. Maybe instead of swinging it at his head, she’d aim for his back. As long as he used it for an excuse to avoid chores, he might as well really be hurt there.

Most likely she wouldn’t need it at all. Anthony could usually be cowed with a dark look and a cutting remark or two.

As soon as she calmed him down, be it with or without the use of cast iron, she’d go back to being the very soul of kindness.

Anthony smiled and took a step toward her.

Belle decided then and there that she hated winter.

Town didn’t hold much attraction for her, but she hated being trapped away from it because it kept Anthony far too close at hand. Two dollars a week was money well spent.

Anthony was soon sitting, disgruntled, in the house by himself. But after she’d properly discouraged the idiot, she’d said good-bye on her way out to work, real friendlylike.

R
ed loved being forced to stay near Cassie and the baby. He could become a real layabout given time, because he was drawn to the house constantly by an eager wish to check on his girls.

Cassie occasionally wished aloud that she could tell Muriel about the baby. Then she’d burst into tears. But mostly she seemed delighted to be alone with their little family.

The three of them shared a simple Christmas together.

Red got Cassie’s rocking chair done in time for it to be her gift.