Chapter 3 #2
“Hey, Norm. Cassie Griffin and I just got married.” Red reached across the desk and shook hands with the formally dressed older man who rose from his chair.
Red wore coarse brown pants and a shirt made crudely from flour sacks. He was liberally coated with dirt from his grave digging. But he greeted Norman York as though they were close friends. Griff had always called him “Mr. York.”
“Congratulations, Red. Congratulations, Miz Griffin, um, Miz Dawson, that is.”
For the first time, Cassie realized she had a new name.
“Sit down.” Mr. York gestured to the pair of heavy wooden chairs that faced his desk.
“No, thanks, Norm. We’re in a hurry. Stock’s waiting.
” Red got right down to business. “Now, we’ve heard about the mortgage.
The one bay is in the stable, and the other un’s out at Griff’s place.
Seth fed him enough for a couple of days.
We’re turning over ownership now. I’m not going that direction, so you’ll have to bring him in yourself.
Reckon the whole place is yours now, so handle things any way you want. ”
“Griff’s furniture…” Cassie began to protest.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Dawson.” Norman York became very formal.
His grammar improved along with his posture.
“Your husband mortgaged everything—the house and its contents. I really can’t allow you to take anything out of it.
Of course, the dress you’re wearing is yours to keep.
Although I think there’s a bill at Seth’s to settle up on it. ”
“But there are personal things. My great-grandmother’s pearls…”
“Those are included in the mortgage, Miz Dawson.”
“I…I inherited them. They have been in my family four generations. Griff wouldn’t mortgage them!”
Mr. York went to a cabinet and pulled a file drawer out. He sorted through papers until he found what he was looking for. He handed it to Cassie.
She read it with ever-increasing shock. “My mother’s cameo?
And the…the frames my grandparents’ portraits are in?
But the portraits—surely, I can have them?
” Cassie looked up from Mr. York to Red, humiliated.
She struggled to gain control of herself.
It didn’t matter. Her heirlooms were all just foolish vanity. That must be what Griff thought.
She consulted the note one last time and lost her composure. “My Bible?” She gaped at Mr. York. “No, a Bible has no monetary worth. But it’s been passed down for generations in my family. It’s precious to me. No one else would ever want to buy it.”
Mr. York fiddled with his string tie for just a second as if it had been pulled a bit too tight.
“The thing is, Miz Dawson, that Bible came from Germany a long time ago. I told your husband the same thing, that no one wants an old Bible except the folks who have their names written in it, but Griff knew that huge old book was a New Testament of something called a Gutenberg Bible. It’s worth quite a bit.
I will have to ship it back East to sell it, but it alone is mortgaged for over two hundred dollars. ”
“Two hundred dollars?” Red exclaimed. “For an old Bible?”
“I know it’s crazy for any book to be so valuable.
” Mr. York nodded. “Your husband—uh, that is, your former husband—tried to convince me it was worth far more than the amount I agreed to. We could build a church with that. A big, beautiful church. If things settle up right, the Bible is the first thing I’ll save back for you.
But you can see that I can’t just give it back.
I will get the photographs for you, but not the frames. ”
“My family Bible is mine. Griff had no right?—”
“The fact is, Miz Dawson”—Mr. York cut her off with considerable force—“a woman’s possessions become her husband’s on the day they marry.
Now, you may not understand that, but it’s the law.
Griff had every right to mortgage that Bible.
And if you didn’t want him to, you could have lived without your silk dresses. ”
“Norm, that’s enough,” Red said.
Mr. York quit glaring at her and turned to Red.
A look passed between the two men, but she couldn’t gather her wits enough to analyze its meaning.
She was struck speechless by the venom in Mr. York’s voice.
He blamed her for her fancy clothes. He probably blamed her for every beautiful thing Griff had bought.
Her whole world shifted at that moment as she realized that the cutting comments she’d overheard about the China Doll and the rather stiff way Muriel had always treated her came down to the perception that she was the one who demanded everything be so fine.
Mr. York clearly believed that. Did Red?
This was a fight she should never have started.
She swallowed hard and felt doubly stupid for having argued with the man while she was so ignorant of the law and of a man’s rights.
Finally, she folded her hands, searched deeply for the China Doll, and regained her self-control.
She spoke demurely, her eyes lowered. “When you get the Bible, would it be all right for me to copy the names out onto a piece of paper? I’d like to keep a record of my ancestors. ”
When Mr. York spoke, his voice had none of the unkindness that it had before. “That’ll be fine, Miz Dawson. I’ll have the Bible here when Red comes to town next week. He can bring it out to you, and when you’ve finished with it, send it back.”
Red glanced at her. “It’s time to go. I’ll take care of the bill at Seth’s now. I know there’s a bill at the lumber mill and one at Harv’s. Anywhere else in town?”
Mr. York said, “The doc, the stable…and check the blacksmith.”
The weight of that list caused all she owed to press down on her shoulders. She swayed slightly and held herself upright by sheer force of will.
Red leaned forward. “I’ll take care of it.”
“It’s not your responsibility, Red. No one expects you to stand good for her fancy…that is…for Griff’s bills.”
“I pay what I owe, Norm.” The tone of Red’s voice pulled Cassie back from the edge of a faint. There was something cold in Red’s voice.
“I didn’t mean to imply you don’t pay your bills, Red.” Mr. York tugged a kerchief out of his breast pocket and mopped his brow.
“Good, I’m glad to hear you know better’n to say different. When I married Cassie, I reckon I married her bills. I knew that going in.”
Married her bills? Cassie couldn’t quite make sense out of that. Married her bills?
“I know, Red.” Norman York held both hands in front of him. “If I come out ahead on the mortgage, you have my word I’ll put it to his other debts. But I don’t think there’s gonna be much.”
“Mort’ll take the spring,” Red warned. “You’ll have to be careful, or he won’t pay for it. Too bad there’s not a second bidder.”
“Maybe Linscott will come in on it.” Mr. York watched Red closely as if afraid of him. “He’s got adjoining land.”
Cassie would do well to remember that Red was a man people feared.
“Yeah, but it’s too rugged between Tom Linscott’s land and that spring. He couldn’t use it.”
“Probably not.” Mr. York sounded thoughtful. “But he surely does hate the Sawyers. More importantly, Tom’s not afraid of Mort.”
“Throw in that Tom would usually rather fight than get along.” Red nodded.
The name Tom Linscott was vaguely familiar.
She had a mental image of a huge, dangerous black stallion and a fairly young man with overly long white hair who’d struggled to control the beast and nearly run Cassie down in the street one day as she’d followed a few paces behind Griff.
Linscott had apologized and seemed genuinely sorry and worried at her fright.
Then Griff had lit into him, and all of Mr. Linscott’s kind concern deserted him as the two had exchanged unpleasant words.
It was one of the last times Cassie had been allowed to come to town with Griff.
“Yep, making Mort pay through the nose for that spring will suit him. I’ll see him before I talk to Mort.”
“Mort’s probably moving his cattle in on it already. And he wanted Cass, so he’s mad.”
“He really wanted the spring, not me,” Cassie said faintly.
Mr. York dipped his head. “I’ll watch him.”
“Wade wanted me.” Shuddering, she wasn’t aware of saying it out loud.
Red laid his hand gently on her shoulder. “I know, Cassie. I saw. That’s why I stepped in. No decent woman would be safe around him.”
Cassie recoiled from the mere memory of the evil in Wade’s green eyes. She forced herself to focus on the banker. “If my dress is not paid for, Mr. York, perhaps I could return it.” She turned to Red. “It’s not useful for every day, and if I’m to have only one dress…”
“We can check with Seth. You’re a little thing, but with the waist let out…” Red shrugged and shook his head. “I doubt Muriel will fit in that thing, and no woman in town wears silk, anyway.”
“Maybe one of the girls at the Golden Butte—” Mr. York stopped talking when Red turned toward him. Cassie couldn’t see Red’s expression, but Mr. York mopped his brow again.
Who or what was the Golden Butte?
“Let’s go, Cass. We’ve got a few more stops.”
Red strode out the back of the bank with Cassie trailing along.