Chapter 11
“Where’s Anthony, Ma?” Lindsay lightly touched her roan’s neck with the reins and used her knees to steer the horse close with its travois on the back, then swung down to help with the harvesting. Blond and pencil slim, thirteen-year-old Lindsay was as tough and competent as a seasoned cowhand.
Breathing a prayer of thanksgiving that none of her girls took after their pas, except in looks, Belle looked up from where she plucked a pumpkin off the vine. “I haven’t seen him since the noon meal.”
She set the pumpkin on the growing pile. The last of her fall garden was nearly stripped clean. She straightened and rested one hand on her back. Good thing the baby would come by spring. She didn’t want to do branding while she was expecting. Her belly got in her way.
“What do you need him for?”
“These pumpkins are heavy, but it’s not like it’s really hard work. I thought maybe he’d pitch in.” Lindsay pulled her pumpkin free with a snap of the crisp, dead vine.
Belle chuckled. “Well, you are a dreamer, youngster. I suppose you can hope, but it’s not likely to happen.”
“I saw him.” Sarah came walking up from the derelict cabin they lived in. “He was sitting under the Husband Tree again. Did you ever tell him he was sitting on one of the husbands’ graves?”
Belle straightened and looked up the long slope to the bluff that towered over her house. To the lone oak where she’d buried William and Gerald. “Too bad he doesn’t die up there and save me the work of hauling him up.”
“He might live, Ma. Just because you’ve chosen men who proved to be rickety in the past doesn’t mean Anthony won’t last.”
That was the absolute truth, but she could hope. The only good thing about being married to Anthony was it kept other men from coming around the place.
She settled her eyes on the oak tree, its branches swaying in the brisk fall breeze. Winter came early up this high. The first snow could come any time.
“And he doesn’t get drunk near as often as my pa did.” Sarah was too young to remember her pa, but Belle made sure Sarah heard all about him.
“And Anthony’s never come after you with his fists.” Lindsay picked up another pumpkin and set it in the heavily laden travois.
The horse snorted and shook its head, jangling the traces. But the animal stood still, trained well by Belle and Lindsay and Emma.
“I think he’s just too plumb lazy to get after anyone.
” Belle grabbed the heavy orange pumpkin, remembering how heavy Gerald’s fists could be.
But he hadn’t landed many blows. A well-placed frying pan had proven to calm him considerably.
And once he knew she’d use it, he’d quit with the fists, anyway, unless he was powerful drunk. And then he was easy to best.
“I like him up there better than on the roof.” Lindsay stared at the man barely visible, leaning back against the tree trunk. “It gives me the creeps the way he sits up there like a turkey buzzard.”
“Where’s Emma?” Belle looked around, not alarmed, just curious. Her girls were completely competent around the ranch. She didn’t spend too much time fussing after them.
“She’s dragging windfall limbs out of the spreader dam. She wants to clear the water paths before they freeze.”
“I’ve a mind to ride over to see the Dawson place one of these days.”
“You’re still worried about that woman they forced into marriage.” Sarah straightened with a pumpkin nearly her own weight in her arms.
Belle smiled. Her girls knew how to work!
“I just…well, honestly, it’s bothering me day and night.
That little girl looked so trapped and scared.
” Belle shook her head, wishing she could dislodge the image.
But even her dreams were haunted by Cassie.
What if Red Dawson used his fists? Belle could protect herself, but Cassie wouldn’t know how.
“You can get away once the fall garden is cleared.”
“No, I’ve got three herds left to bring down from the high pasture.
And the snow will close us in before you know it.
What if I rode out and the snow came before I got back?
I could be shut out until spring.” The thought terrified Belle—her girls stuck in here alone all winter.
Oh, they’d survive. They were tough as all get-out.
But it would be a hard, cold winter for them.
“How far is it? You could watch the weather. And the cattle—well, just because a snow closes the pass doesn’t mean you can’t still bring in cattle. It stays nicer in the valley than it does up on the gap.”
“I think I’ll do it.” Belle rested her hand on her stomach and thought of the long, hard ride up to her high pasture.
If only she’d dared to skip it this year.
She’d have to be out overnight, and the ground seemed to be harder than when she was younger.
And not pregnant. She smiled. Maybe she would wait until spring to ride up.
If the cattle up there got hungry, they’d come down closer to the ranch. They knew where the hay was stacked.
“Maybe I’ll ride over there in the next few days.
There’s one pasture that closes up early, and if I don’t bring those cattle down, they’ll have to spend months up there, and the grass might not hold out.
But most likely, the cows will be all right.
I don’t think many cattle went up that high.
And it’ll bother me all winter if I don’t go check on Cassie.
” Belle straightened and rested both hands on her back.
Carrying pumpkins when she was round as a pumpkin herself was hard work.
“And girls, I’ll warn you right now. If I don’t like what I see, I might just grab that girl and bring her back with me. ”
Lindsay brightened. “That’d be great, Ma. I’d like another sister.”
Belle smiled. She’d seen the possessive look on Red’s face.
He wouldn’t give up his property without a fight.
But maybe she could check on the girl, and if she didn’t approve, she could pretend to leave, then watch the ranch, and when Red left, snatch Cassie and bring her home.
The mountain gap would snow shut, and by spring, maybe Belle could teach the girl how to handle herself.
Give her a frying pan of her own. Belle had a spare.
Satisfied with her plan, she said, “I think I’ll do it. We most likely have a few weeks before the first big snow, so I’ll put off fetching down that one herd…maybe until spring. I’ll make sure it’s a fine day, then just run over to the Dawson place and back.”
“You rescue her if you’ve a mind to, Ma. It’d be fun to not be the oldest for a change.”
Belle felt as righteous as a fire-and-brimstone preacher as she bent to pick up another bright orange pumpkin, thinking of the misery she could spare that poor little Cassie Dawson.
Cassie had never had so much fun in her life.
She laughed as the buckskin ran full out into the cool fall afternoon. What a wonder. Her husband liked her to laugh.
Red held on to her so tightly that she didn’t think the baby had been bounced around much at all.
He’d ridden straight to the general store, which surprised her.
She expected him to go to the stable first and see to Buck.
He’d jumped off the horse and lifted her down without a word.
Then he’d caught her by the hand and dragged her into the store and found Muriel.
“Cassie needs somewhere to spend the afternoon,” he snapped at Muriel.
Cassie turned to look at him. Where had that angry voice come from?
“She doesn’t know the first thing about having a baby either. Could you talk to her?”
Cassie’s cheeks grew so hot, she half expected her head to ignite. She dipped her chin down so no one could see her red face.
“Hmm…” Muriel said no words, but the sound—well, Cassie glanced up at the woman and saw some strange kind of satisfaction on Muriel’s face as she looked between her and Red.
A smile lurked behind Muriel’s understanding nod. Cassie didn’t have time to beg Red not to leave her because he must have taken that noise to be agreement on Muriel’s part. After his abrupt request, he took off like the building was afire.
Cassie looked after him, worried that it was something she’d said. “Maybe I should?—”
“He’s a man. Ignore him.” Muriel caught Cassie’s hand and pulled her toward a table full of gingham. “We’ll just have a nice chat. I don’t get to visit with womenfolk much.”
“He’s a man. Ignore him.” Those words might well qualify as blasphemy before God. Griff would have certainly said they did.
“I just got a shipment of dress goods in on the noon freight wagon. Can you help me stack them on this shelf over here, Cassie?”
What a relief to be asked to help rather than be given a lecture on the details of something so personal as childbirth. “I’d be glad to help.”
Long before Red came back, Cassie and Muriel were fast friends. Cassie couldn’t believe this nice lady had lived so close to her for two years and they’d never spoken beyond polite niceties.
Libby Jeffreys came over to put in her usual weekly order and pick up a few necessities that couldn’t wait until Red delivered the supplies. Seth came in and out of the store, filling Libby’s order, and left the women alone.
Muriel poured coffee, and Libby stayed for over an hour, drinking coffee and laughing over the comings and goings of Divide.
Leota Pickett came just as Libby was leaving, and Libby settled back into the rocking chair, one of four Muriel had by her potbellied stove, and accepted another cup of coffee.
It would seem all of them were hungry for talk with another woman. Cassie had never known it before today, but she was hungry for it too.