Cassidy

  “No, you don’t,” Trace said. “Jeanette’s taking over for the day.”

  Cassidy could not stop her smile. This might have been the sweetest surprise of all.

  “What do you think?” Trace asked.

  “I think I love you,” the future Mrs. Holden said.

  Trace smiled and said, “Let’s go home.”

  Cassidy had been right. She didn’t hear more than a half-dozen words on Sunday morning, and long before she was ready, Rylan was wrapping up his sermon and preparing for her to come.

  “As all of you must know,” the pastor started, “Cassidy has had some difficulties in the last weeks, all resulting from a visit made to Token Creek by her brother. She asked me if she could share her story with you, the very reason she came to Token Creek, and I thought it a fine opportunity for you to hear from her what really happened. Cassidy,” Rylan invited before taking a seat in the front pew.

  Trace gave Cassidy’s hand a squeeze before she moved to the front. She was not able to hide her nervousness. Many people smiled at her, and she knew she would simply have to start.

  “My younger brother is Edson Sinclair. If you’ve not heard the name before, Edson is known all over the territory—especially by banks—for conning folks and rarely getting caught in the act. He has served jail time, but it was brief and for only one charge. He came here looking like himself, but he often uses disguises, and there are few accurate pictures of him.

  “My family is from Billings. My late father was never around much. He gambled for a living but rarely brought any money home. My mother worked cleaning homes until she hurt her back and was forced to take in mending so we could live. Eventually she started her own dress shop, working out of a small bedroom in our home. That’s where I learned to sew,” Cassidy added, not sure if that was important or not.

  “Even though Edson began playing card games and getting into trouble at a young age, he didn’t involve my mother or me for many years. And when he did start to target the customers that came to the house, selling phony mine shares and such, we were not at first aware. When my mother became aware, she reported Edson.”

  Cassidy took a breath. History had so painfully repeated itself here in Token Creek that it was hard to talk about.

  “My mother’s business was nearly destroyed by Edson’s actions. Folks who had trusted her now became suspicious. We had made a good business. We were working hard and supporting ourselves, but our church family was small, and they could not keep us going with just their patronage.

  “My mother begged me to move away and try again. But then history repeated itself,” Cassidy said, managing a smile that was very crooked before continuing.

  “But that’s not really what I wanted to explain to you today. My mother gave me money that her mother had left her, money that she’d kept tucked away for years. She sent that money with me, told me to take my great aunt’s maiden name, and sent me off. We did not have contact until after Edson found me. Not since I came to Token Creek have I sent letters or tried to contact her for fear that Edson would find me.

  “Changing my name was not done with the intent to deceive my church family or the folks of Token Creek. I didn’t tell people the name I was born with so that Edson could not track me. Obviously it didn’t work. I’m sorry if you have been hurt by Edson’s presence and anything he might have said or done. I wonder if I should have handled things differently, but to speculate on that is fruitless.”

  Cassidy stopped and took another breath, feeling as though she could cry but fighting the urge.

  “I don’t know if I covered everything or not. I would be happy to take questions if you have them.”

  Chas Vick’s hand went instantly into the air. Cassidy smiled at his kind expression, and he asked his question.

  “How is business right now, Cassie? Are you going to make it?”

  “Yes, I think the business will survive. Jeanette has offered to buy both the building and the business. Orders picked up this week, and folks seem to have forgotten or forgiven the things Edson said about me.”

  “Have you been in touch with your mother?” Patience Dorn wanted to know.

  “I’ve written to her but not heard back. I’m working on a plan to visit her, but I don’t know when.”

  The room fell quiet for a moment. Cassidy forced herself not to look at Trace. She thought his eyes might make her even more emotional.

  “What will you be doing when Jeanette buys your business?” Brad asked, and Cassidy had all she could do not to laugh. She looked at him a bit sternly, an effect that was spoiled by her smile.

  “Last night Trace Holden asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

  As might be expected, there was much laughter and applause. Cassidy felt her face going very red, and this time it did help to look at Trace, who winked at her.

  For a while, there were no questions. Cassidy thought it might be time for her to sit down, but finally Philip Leffers raised his hand.

  “What is something you wondered if you might have done differently?”

  “I wonder if I should have contacted Sheriff Kaderly the moment I knew Edson was in town. And whether I should have told Chandler at the bank. I don’t know if alerting folks would have worked. As it was,” Cassidy’s voice dropped a little, “someone was physically harmed because of Edson’s presence in town. Had I raised the alarm, the physical violence might have come on me instead. To tell you the truth, I wish it had. I’ll always wonder if I could have done a better job.”

  Listening to her, Chandler felt a jolt go through him. Such a thing had not occurred to him. He did wish that Cassidy had come to him, but her being harmed had not played into his thoughts. The idea made him slightly queasy.

  “I don’t want to cut things off,” Rylan said, suddenly standing and going up front, “but I’m going to. It’s past the time we usually let out, and I want to be sensitive to folks' plans and the needs of little ones.

  “That doesn’t change the fact that Cassidy would still answer your questions. Maybe hearing her story brought even more questions to your mind. You can see her or talk to me, and I’ll make sure Cassidy hears your questions. Thank you, Cassie,” Rylan said, turning to her, “for being willing to share your story and answer all questions. You’ve encouraged our hearts.”

  Cassidy nodded at him, her face still warm, and went back to her pew. Rylan closed in prayer, but Cassidy didn’t hear it. She hadn’t thought it was going to be so hard, but it was. Trace had taken her hand, not bothering to ask if she was all right but just staying close while the congregation converged.

  “Let me get this straight,” Rylan demanded, catching Trace while the others crowded around to speak with Cassidy. “You came to my house on Wednesday night, looking to set a date, but you didn’t ask Cassie to marry you until last night?”

  “Is that what she said?” Trace was too quick. “You know, she was a little upset. I asked her last Saturday. I’m sure that was the day.”

  Rylan’s head went back as he laughed. He clapped Trace on the shoulder and told him he’d see him that week.

  “Oh, Cassie,” Patience cried as she hugged Cassidy and told her she would pray for her.

  “Thank you,” Cassidy said, her heart turned with gratitude.

  And Patience was just one of many. Nearly everyone in the church family checked in with her, asking other questions or stopping to give her a hug. Not until the room was nearly cleared did Cassidy see Abi waiting.

  “Did you mean that?” the older woman asked.

  Cassidy knew exactly what she meant and wasted no time in saying yes.

  “But if I’d not gotten hurt, I wouldn’t have sent for Pastor Jarvik,” Abi said, making it sound like more of a question than a statement.

  “Clearly God had a plan. I’m glad it included your being here.”

  Abi looked uncomfortable for a moment, but she eventually thanked Cassidy and moved on her way. Trace took Cassidy’s hand and led her to where Meg and
Brad were waiting. None of them had ever seen Cassidy looking so drained, and Meg’s eyes searched her face.

  “Can you take me in for the afternoon, Meg?” Cassidy asked.

  Meg didn’t answer but put her arms around her friend.

  “It’s over now, Cass,” she whispered in her friend’s ear. “You can get on with your life.”

  Cassidy nodded, trying not to think about her mother, wanting only to go to the ranch and spend time with her future family.

  Trace sat alone in the living room oiling his rifle on Sunday afternoon, parts of Rylan’s sermon going through his mind. The pastor had said that believers in Christ must be perfectly content at all times but never stop walking, never stop working to strengthen their obedience.

  Trace thought this one of the most profound concepts Rylan had ever spoken about. It was easy to be content right now and want to stay right where he was. Cassidy loved him, and he loved her more deeply than words could express. They would be married in six weeks' time and, as soon as weather permitted, building a home.

  But amid these thoughts, Trace knew that any real contentment must come from his relationship with his unchanging Savior and God. Lately Cassidy had so filled his head that his time in the Word and prayer had been halfhearted. In those circumstances, any claim to contentment with God was false.

  Trace began to pray, his heart as well as his attention undivided. He confessed to the Lord that he had let Cassidy get between them and that he no longer wanted that.

  I confess to You, Lord, that I have pushed You out of the center of my heart. Help me to see that for the sin it is and not to repeat this act against You. You are holy and worthy of my whole heart. Please help me not to forget this. Help me to guard my unfaithful heart.

  Very soon I need Your help to be the husband Cassidy needs. I won’t know how to do that if I’m not first obedient as Your child. Give me a renewed hunger for You, Lord. Help me to see how much I need You and to stop depending on myself.

  Trace reached for the Bible that Meg kept on the living room table. He turned to the verse Rylan had emphasized in the fifth chapter of Matthew and spent some time committing it to memory. His hunger for God needed to increase, and he needed this verse in his heart to remind him.

  Cassidy came quietly down the stairs four hours after arriving at the ranch. She had blinked her way owlishly through dinner and finally Brad, of all people, had told her to give up and head upstairs.

  Because she had a room of her own, she simply hung her dress on one of the closet hooks, climbed into bed, and was asleep a minute later. She slept deeply for more than two hours and woke feeling human again. She even thought of her mother and prayed for her without needing to cry. That, in and of itself, told Cassidy she had been short on sleep.

  “Well, hello,” Trace said before Cassidy even spotted him. He’d heard her on the stairs before he’d seen her skirt.

  “Hello,” Cassidy said with smile, sitting close beside him.

  Trace took her hand and asked if she’d slept.

  “Like a hibernating bear. It was wonderful.”

  “You took your hair down,” Trace commented, brushing his hand down the soft, straight, dark blonde mass.

  “It was a mess from my nap, and I didn’t try to do anything with it.”

  “I’m not complaining,” Trace said, enjoying the view.

  “Well,” Cassidy replied, growing practical, “enjoy it now, because next summer I’ll have to get it off my neck.”

  “I like it up too,” Trace said kindly, “just not as well.”

  “That was a gallant thing to say,” Cassidy teased him, knowing how much he preferred it down her back.

  “Do you know the first time I noticed your hair down?”

  “When was it?”

  “The night Savanna was born. When I came back from getting Doc Ertz, I found you in the kitchen with your hair down.” Trace shook his head a little. “It took quite a bit of effort not to tell you what I was thinking right then.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “You also had no idea after we moved in here and you fell asleep, I put a blanket over you. I watched you sleep for a long time.”

  Cassidy’s mouth opened in surprise, and Trace leaned to kiss that mouth before smiling at her.

  “Tell me, Trace,” Cassidy asked at last, “why did it take so long to find each other?”

  “I think we found each other a long time ago. We just couldn’t take the chance of talking about it. And speaking of which, did you ever tell me when you knew you loved me?”

  “I cared for a long time,” Cassidy said by way of an answer, “but I didn’t know that I wanted you in my life forever until you got worried about me in town on Saturday nights. I wanted to kiss you right on the spot.”

  “I would have liked that,” Trace said softly, and Cassidy just looked at him. Trace looked right back until both realized they were on dangerous ground.

  “How about a game of horseshoes?” Trace asked.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Cassidy agreed. She rose to get her sweater. The two were outside a few minutes later, their hands holding horseshoes and working to keep their distance.

  “Savanna,” Brad spoke with quiet firmness into the face of his crying daughter, bending over her cradle but not picking her up. “We have trained you to think that you need to be held all the time. I’m sorry we did this. You’re dry and your stomach is full. You do not need to be held right now.” Brad watched her cry, working to harden his heart, and eventually walked away.

  Meg was waiting for him, her eyes watching him, knowing how hard it was going to be. It was true that they had done this. There were always arms waiting to hold Savanna, and the two-and-a-half-month-old was starting to cry for no reason.

  “She’ll be all right,” Meg said, as much for Brad as for herself.

  “But will I be?” Brad asked, hearing the kitchen door just then. “Don’t pick her up,” he said when Trace came in. He’d just returned Cassidy to town.

  “Why not?”

  “She’s getting held too much and starting to expect it.”

  Trace took a seat in the living room with his brother and sister-in-law, but he was clearly not relaxed.

  “Okay,” he said at last, “is this making either of you as miserable as it’s making me?”

  The words were no more out of Trace’s mouth when the crying shut off. Little noises from the cradle told them she was not asleep. Meg whispered that she might have found her fist.

  “Now can I pick her up?” Trace asked, just stopping himself from heading that way.

  “No,” Brad said, wanting the same thing.

  “How are your plans coming?” Meg asked, hoping to distract herself.

  “Good,” Trace answered. “We walked out to where the house will be, and Cass got pretty excited.”

  “Did she tell you about the porch she wants?” Meg asked.

  Trace was answering when Savanna started up again.

  “Please, Brad,” the younger man asked.

  Brad nodded and Trace wasted not a second. Brad spoke when Trace was settled back in a chair, the baby cuddled close against him.

  “We have to start working on this, all of us. It’s not fair that she thinks she’s the center of the universe.”

  Nothing else Brad could have said would have gotten to Trace’s heart faster. His own realization that very afternoon that he’d pushed God out of the center was still fresh in his mind. And he loved this baby enough to want nothing less for her than that God would be at the center of her life.

  “When will you change the hours?” Cassidy asked Jeanette on Monday morning. They had worked on the details already, getting ready to finalize the sale.

  “I think I’ll put an ad in the paper.” Jeanette was thinking out loud, not answering the question yet.

  “That’s a good idea. Why did I never think of that?”

  Jeanette laughed at the younger woman before adding, “I’ll probably make th
e changes on the days and hours right at the beginning of November. You’ll still be around to help me, but if you get busy and can’t, I’ll be able to manage.”

  “That sounds good,” Cassidy was saying when they were interrupted. Halston came in the door, and Cassidy’s heart sank. She did not want to work with Hiram Brickel again.

  “Good morning,” Halston greeted. “I’m here to place an order.”

  “Certainly, Halston.” Cassidy would never take her feelings out on this kind man. “For Mr. Brickel?”

  “As a matter of fact, no.”

  “Oh,” Cassidy said, and watching her, Jeanette wanted to laugh.

  “I need two shirts,” Halston informed her, just holding his smile.

  “Well,” Cassidy said, still working to recover. “If you’ll just allow me to take some measurements...”

  Halston had to smile then. He could see that she was surprised, and like Jeanette, he’d found this very amusing. Cassidy never did catch that she was being laughed at, but it didn’t matter. It was another order, and it confirmed what she’d hoped all along: Token Creek would support the business again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “HELLO, CASSIE,” JEB GREETED on Tuesday afternoon, having come to the shop, a place he’d never before visited.

  “Well, hello, Jeb. How are you?”

  “Fine. I have a letter for you. Jessie mentioned that you’d received one, and I thought you might want to see it right away.”

  Cassidy froze a little right then, but Jeb just smiled at her.

  “Here you go,” he offered, coming close enough to hand it to her.

  “Thank you,” Cassidy said, looking down at it. “It’s from my mother.”

  “I hoped it was.” Jeb took in her suddenly anxious face. “Are you going to be all right?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Jeb offered, his feelings as fatherly toward her as they were toward Meg. “I’ll just sit myself down right here in a chair, and you can go in the back and read. If someone comes in, I’ll explain that you’re busy and take a message or something.”