Montana Rose (16 page)

This time Libby and Leota and Muriel were ready for her.

Cassie woke as Red lowered her to the ground. Leota came hurrying up to the front door of Bates General Store before Red had completed his brief hellos to Muriel and Libby and rushed off to work.

Cassie said, still half asleep, “I can stock shelves if there aren’t any customers.”

Muriel laughed. “I’ll work you like a mule later, Cassie. I’ve got a pot of coffee on the stove and I’ve pulled up four chairs. Sit.”

She waved all the ladies toward her heating stove, and Cassie welcomed the warmth. The fall weather had lingered more than usual this year but the wind bit as if to warn them winter was coming. The cold didn’t keep Cassie from sleeping. In fact, she seemed to need a nap most afternoons. It was one of the things she’d wanted to ask the ladies about. It was actually one of the few questions that she had the nerve to ask outright. She hoped to slip the other, more embarrassing questions in later. She held her hands out to the stove until some of the chill left then headed for the rocking chair the other ladies had left vacant.

Libby pulled yarn out of a cloth bag she was carrying, and Leota began stitching on quilt blocks, each only an inch square. Muriel had a basket sitting beside her chair and lifted a half-darned sock out of it. “I should have some handwork to do, too,” Cassie said awkwardly.

Muriel smiled up at her. “You just sit there, young lady. You’re growing a baby. That’s work enough.”

Cassie sighed as she sat, still slightly groggy and bemused from her long rest in Red’s arms. “I declare, I take an afternoon nap just like a child. It doesn’t mean I’m sick, does it? Or could something be wrong with the baby?”

Muriel laughed. It was such a pleasant sound. Cassie hadn’t heard much laughter in her life. At least not for a long time.

“Seth’s mother was such a sweet lady.” Muriel sighed, and her eyes were looking at far-off memories that no one else could see. “I remember once, before I knew my eldest was coming, I was at her house helping her with threshers. Ten starving men and they ate like mules as much and with as many manners. It was right after the noon meal. The men were gone back out and we’d cleaned the kitchen. I sat down at the table to visit with her and I fell asleep. I didn’t even know it.”

“Four hours later, Seth was there, waking me up to take me home. I’d spent the entire afternoon with my head lying on my arms at the table. My mother-in-law must have tiptoed around that whole time but she let me sleep. I tried to apologize for it and she smiled so kindly at me and said, ‘A baby takes a lot out of a woman.’ And I said, ‘What baby?’”

Leota and Libby laughed and Muriel joined in. Cassie’s heart eased some when she realized she wasn’t the only woman who’d had to be told she was with child. “I didn’t know there was a baby coming until July.”

“That’s four months. You must have been feeling some movement.” Leota laid two little squares together and began a row of tiny, neat stitches.

Cassie said, “I remember some now that I’m feeling it a lot, but back then I didn’t recognize it as anything but muscles twitching.”

Libby’s needles clicked efficiently. “That’s just what it feels like at first.”

“I only found out in July when I mentioned it to Griff because I was worried about my ... my time not coming for several months. I might not have said anything then except he was ... he wanted to...” Cassie didn’t know how she ended up going down such personal paths. Muriel had told everyone about finding out she was expecting without having to refer to marital intimacy.

“It was time for the one in the summer?” Libby asked lightly without looking up from the dark red yarn in her hands.

Cassie nodded.

All three women started laughing.

Cassie felt she had to explain. “It’s just that, at first Griff said I was too young.”

“Too young for what?” Leota asked blankly.

“Hush, Leota,” Muriel said with her lips quivering suspiciously. “Too young to be ... umm ... together as man and wife, right, Cassie?”

Leota looked at Muriel then quickly returned to her sewing.

Cassie said so softly her voice almost squeaked, “That’s right. I was fifteen when we married. Griff said that was too young. So, it’s only been the last year he’s...”

Muriel said, “Decided you were old enough?”

“Yes,” Cassie said with a sigh of relief. “And then he wasn’t ... that is, I wasn’t...” Cassie was suddenly exhausted and wanted the whole conversation to end.

Muriel set aside her darning and got to her feet to pour coffee. “You weren’t old enough very often?”

Cassie nodded and the ladies started laughing again. Muriel had to lean on her chair until she got control of herself.

Cassie’s cheeks warmed. She’d embarrassed herself again but she wasn’t sure how. Just the reference to such a personal topic, she imagined. “I thought he should know before ... before ... lest there be anything wrong with me. And it was a good thing, because a man isn’t to...”

Leota lowered her quilt blocks and exchanged a quick glance with Muriel and Libby that somehow left Cassie out. “He said you were unclean.” The ladies all sobered.

Cassie remembered their reaction to that last Saturday and hurried to change the subject before they began to once again berate Griff.

“Red taught me how to milk his cow this week, and I’m caring for the chickens and our sow and her piglets.”

“A mama pig is a fierce critter,” Muriel said. “Take care around her.”

“She attacked Red once.” At the ladies’ urging, she told about Harriet and Red’s accident, and the struggles she’d had trying to feed the grouchy mother pig. They seemed delighted with her stories of life with Red, so she talked more than she could ever remember talking in her life.

On occasion, Muriel would have to get up and help a customer, but she hurried them through ruthlessly and came back to the stove.

Leota finally slipped her needle securely into her growing quilt and got to her feet. “My husband will be hauling the children on his back through town, screaming my name, if I don’t get home.”

Libby rolled the scarf around the ball of yarn and pinned the whole thing together with the two long knitting needles. “I have baking to see to before suppertime.”

“I don’t think I’d better carry anything over to your diner, Libby. I don’t feel right about the help I got last week.”

Libby said, “Carryin’ for you last Saturday and hearin’ your sweet thank you was the highlight of those men’s lives. You shouldn’t deprive them of the pleasure.”

Cassie laughed and she wished she could do this job for Red, but she didn’t haul the groceries.

The general store got busy as the afternoon wore on. Muriel said menfolk didn’t buy anything ahead. They just noticed they needed something when they ran out, so right before suppertime every night she had a crowd.

Red appeared briefly out of the back room and said, “Hi.” He hurried away with a wooden box of supplies for Libby.

After that, Cassie was aware of every movement from the back of the store, but Red never came up front again.

Mort Sawyer came in with an order and seemed surprised to see Cassie folding a bolt of cloth in front of the counter. He said hello gruffly.

Cassie inhaled slowly and said, “I heard you bought the spring, Mr. Sawyer. I know you wanted it. I’m glad it worked out.”

Mort studied her with narrow eyes, and she knew somehow he’d taken her comment as offensive. She opened her mouth to apologize for she knew not what, but Red came from the back at that moment. He’d come to lend support. She smiled gratefully at him.

“Afternoon, Mort.” Red stood beside Cassie, with one hand resting on her lower back.

Mort had been annoyed with her, but surrounded with people like she was, Cassie hadn’t really been afraid of him. When Red showed up, Mort seemed content to refocus his temper on Red.

“Your interference cost me over a thousand dollars. There were two other bidders on that worthless spring, and it should have been mine along with her.” Mort tipped his head at Cassie like she was nothing except a part of the bargain.

“You know that’s not true, Mort,” Red answered mildly. “Cassie no more belonged to you than that spring. And a thousand dollars is a fair price for a good water source like that. And you can afford it. Plus you got the house—”

“That house is worthless and you know it! No one can live in it back in there!” Mort said gruffly.

“Rip it apart for the wood then.” Red shrugged casually. He tightened his hold on Cassie’s back just a little as if to apologize for Mort’s dismissal of her beautiful house. Cassie stood calmly beside Red, determined to make him proud of her. She didn’t even flinch when he suggested tearing down Griff ’s house.

Wade stepped into the store at that second and came to stand beside his father. Standing side by side like that, Cassie thought Mort had the look of an aging wolf. Some of his strength was gone, but he’d replaced it with a lifetime of brutal lessons. Wade looked like a fox, with shifting eyes and a mind that turned to slyness. He had none of his father’s strength of character. Even though Mort used his iron will to solidify power at the expense of others, no one could deny that Mort had what it took to conquer this unforgiving land. Wade would have never made it out West without his father’s wealth and power to ease the way.

In a moment of insight, Cassie knew that Mort was the cattle baron Griff had always wanted to be. She had an urge to smile as she thought how far from Mort’s vicious ruthlessness Griff had been. Griff had been more fox than wolf, too, but without Wade’s sadistic streak. Then Cassie thought of the times Griff had raised his hand harshly against her and wondered if Griff didn’t have more in common with Wade than she wanted to admit.

Then she wondered about Red. He’d said he had five hundred head of cattle. Did that make him a cattle baron, too? “How many head of cattle do you have, Mort?” Every person in the place turned to look at her before she realized she’d spoken aloud.

Mort wouldn’t probably have deigned to answer her question except it gave him a moment to boast in front of all Muriel’s customers. “Over ten thousand head.”

“And how much land?”

Mort said, “With my water claims, I control forty thousand acres. It’s the biggest spread in western Montana.”

Cassie shook her head from side to side. Mort and Wade watched her, curious about her question. She even thought she saw a gleam in Wade’s eye like maybe he thought she was considering whether she’d chosen right to marry Red when she could have had a Sawyer. “If you’re so well-to-do, then surely a thousand dollars isn’t that much to you. Why are you so upset about spending it?”

“I can afford twenty times that amount if I want to!” Mort roared at her.

Two weeks ago, Cassie would have fainted dead away in the face of all that male anger, but Red was beside her, and he’d even been angry with her before and it hadn’t been so bad. Somehow Mort had lost a lot of his power to intimidate, and it was easy for her to stand face-to-face with the two of them. “And why do you need me for a wife?”

She turned to Wade. “Or you? With all your land and cattle and the nice place you live, can’t you go find a wife somewhere who
wants
to marry you? I know women are in short supply, but get away from here for a few months. Denver is a big city. Go spend the winter in Denver and bring yourself a wife back. Chasing after me the way you’ve been isn’t necessary for a rich man like you.”

Cassie didn’t think she was being rude. It just seemed like common sense. Of course a man ranching alone couldn’t abandon his place and go wife hunting. But with all the hands on the Sawyer place, Wade didn’t have to be alone if he didn’t choose to be.

She didn’t expect Wade to lash out at her like a striking snake. He grabbed her arm and yanked her forward until she was so close to him their noses touched. “No little snip of a woman is gonna tell me...” Wade’s eyes flickered with a stunned look and he loosened his hold on Cassie. He sank to his knees in front of her.

As his face left her vision, she saw Red’s arm around Wade’s neck, choking him so tight that Wade lost consciousness within seconds of Red’s getting ahold of him. Red grabbed Wade by the collar to stop him from falling on his face.

Muriel stepped to Cassie’s side and pulled her back as Cassie babbled, “I didn’t mean to be insulting. I—I just thought—It’s just common sense that he’d—”

“Let up on him, Red,” Mort said quietly.

Red stepped back, grim lines etched around his mouth. He still spoke calmly, but there was iron in his voice. “He’s not gonna lay his hands on Cassie. Get him under control, Mort, before he comes to a bad end. You’ve raised yourself a poor excuse for a man. He’s been prowling around my place, and he poisoned my water hole this week. I’m letting it pass because none of my stock died, but I’m watching for him now. He won’t get off so easy next time.”

“You can’t prove nothin’, Dawson.” Wade dragged in a deep breath of air. His voice was hoarse.

“I can read signs, and every man here knows it. Your horse steps high and takes a long pace, and your boots leave a mark as good as a signature. There’s law out here, Wade, even for a Sawyer. And if you ever touch Cassie again, you’d better hope I remember I’m a Christian man, because that’s the only thing that will protect you.”

Cassie was standing well back from Wade. Red was right behind him. She was watching Wade struggle to his feet until she glanced at Red. He wasn’t looking at Wade. He was focused on Mort.

Right before Cassie’s eyes, that hard, old tyrant shrank to something far more human, and Cassie could see that Red was Mort’s equal. Red was as tall. He wasn’t as broad, but that was because Mort had gone more and more to fat over the years. Red had broad shoulders and corded muscles in his arms. But the thing that really made Red a man to respect was the force of his will. He held Mort’s eyes and spoke with a confidence that no one could deny. There was no threat in Red’s voice, only promise.

Wade staggered sideways as he stood and knocked into his father, breaking the stare down between Red and Mort. Mort looked at his son and disgust crossed his face.