Place to Belong, a (35 page)

The ring of ax on wood nearly drowned out the arrival of Ransom and Gretchen, especially since the dogs didn't bark. Gretchen came popping into the kitchen. “The Prewskys are on their way home, and Ransom's putting the team away. Mor, is that Lucas's horse in the small field?” She paused at her mother's nod. “And he's splitting wood?” Another nod. “Oh boy, are we in for it now.”

W
hat do you think you're doing?” Rage ate at the back of Ransom's throat. Here he was, just like all their growing-up years. Splitting wood as if nothing more than a simple schoolboy disagreement had happened.

“Chopping wood. What does it look like?” Lucas split another round, slamming in the wedge with the maul and then setting up the halves to split again.

“What do you want?” Ransom tested the blade on the other ax with his fingers.

“I want to set things right. I'm sorry, Ransom.”

“You think you can come waltzing in here, say you're sorry, and everything will be all right again?” Ransom balanced a round on the other block and slammed the ax down so hard the two split pieces flew into the air and thudded some ways away.

“No, I don't think that.”
Slam, thud
. Set up another chunk. “But I am admitting that I made a mistake.”

“A mistake? A mistake is forgetting to close the barn door. Mistakes aren't deliberate. You left all of us in the lurch, including Cassie.
Especially
Cassie, the woman you had decided you
would marry. Remember, Lucas? Remember?” Ransom peeled off his shirt. “In the middle of the night you took off without telling any of us. Betsy's folks were frantic. They were over here early, thinking we were in on it. No one knew where you were. If I could've caught you, I swear I—”

Slam, split, screeching wood, and whistling axes. Grunts and mutterings.

“I know. I was there, remember? And I've regretted how I ran every day since. But I did it, and now I'm asking for your forgiveness for doing it. Ransom, I want to come home. I know you need me.”

Ransom leaned on his ax handle. “That's another mistake to your credit, Lucas. We do not need you. We did need you, but we survived, that storm in May and all, with all of us working beyond our strength. Thank the good Lord, we survived, and while there's always work to do, thanks to the furniture line, we can hire help. Dependable help.”

He picked up his ax again and buried the head firmly in the quarter round he'd set in place. Usually splitting wood helped him think better. Right now all it did was paint a red rage across the back of his eyes.

Lucas rammed a splitting wedge in next to Ransom's buried ax head and struck it with the maul. It dropped through and the split wood went flying. “We could live in Arnett's house.”

“Already taken.”

“The guesthouse.”

“You'll have to ask Mor. The guest ranching is her side.”

“I don't even have to live here, you know. I have a good job in Hill City, and Betsy's father already said I can come to work for him anytime.”

“Then go do it.”

“God help you, Ransom, if you ever make a mistake.”

“As I said—”

“I know, a mistake is forgetting to close the gate.” Three more chunks flew after the others. “I can't undo the past. What do I have to do to make it right with you?”

Ransom tossed two more pieces onto the growing woodpile. He stared at the chopping block in front of him, unable to think of an answer that hadn't been said already.

Thwack!
Lucas settled another round on his block. “I told Betsy you'd never forgive me. I told her I know you, but she said I had to try. She says we're brothers, and that's what brothers do.” He thunked the front corner of his ax blade into the chopping block and picked up his shirt. Shoving his sweaty arms into the sleeves of his shirt, he settled his hat on his head. “Good-bye, Ransom.” He tossed a couple more pieces on the pile and strode toward the back door.

“Where are you going?”

“To say good-bye to Mor and the others.”

“Running off again.”

“No, Ransom. This time I am not running. I am leaving like a man. I have done what I can, and I have no idea what else to say to you.”

Chuck. Thud
. Ransom balanced another round on the block. The memory of picking himself out of the dirt after that Jones henchman caught him with a punch to the belly—and Lucas standing there solid, right beside him.
Whack
! Lucas hauling over the steam engine so they could turn those pine trees into supports for the mine. Another round
. Chuck
. Was the mine a mistake of his own that God kept him from taking further? Lucas skipping out of work by going hunting, true, but then he'd bring home money from the game he sold to the hotel. His mother during one of her forgiveness pitches mentioning the elder brother in the story of the Prodigal Son:
“this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.”
And what if something happened to Lucas, and Ransom never saw his brother again?

“Lucas!” Ransom roared out the name. His brother was nowhere in sight. He tore into the house. “Where is he?”

“Gone down to saddle his horse.” Mavis wore a weary look that added one more crack to his breaking heart.

“God forgive me, Mor. God forgive me.” He stormed out the front door and down to the barn, where Lucas was just mounting. He sensed the women somewhere behind him, but he didn't look. They melted away as Ransom hollered his brother's name again. There, down by the barn.

Lucas was half in the saddle, swinging his leg up over the saddle roll. He paused, watched Ransom approach, and swung back down. Reins in his hand, he turned to face his brother.

“Lucas, I'm sorry. We can't part this way. You asked for forgiveness and I—well, I couldn't. Now it is my turn. Will you forget what has just gone on? And we can start again? Forgive your hardhearted brother and come home.” Ransom flung his arms around his brother and pounded him on the back. For the first time in his life, he was not ashamed of tears.

Lucas didn't bother to wipe the tears from his face either. He nodded and hugged his brother back. “I can't promise we won't ever end up splitting wood again.”

“How could Mor do all her cooking if we agreed all the time?” Ransom stepped back and, with a lightning move he'd not even considered, landed a sucker punch right into Lucas's diaphragm.

Lucas flew backward and hit the ground with another “oof.” He shook his head and grinned up at his brother.

“I know. I deserved that.”

Reaching out a hand, Ransom first helped him to his feet and then helped him dust off. “I didn't plan that.”

“I know.” Lucas rubbed his middle. “You do pack a powerful punch. Let's hope this is the last time we need fists.”

“The woodpile is better. I can't say I'm sorry.”

“Not necessary.”

Ransom heaved a sigh and shook his head, flexing his fist. “Do you need to return to Hill City?”

“Yes, to finish up some things there. We can be back in a week or so.”

“The guesthouse will be ready for you. Or we'll talk about Arnett's house. He and Chief have been living there some so they don't have to come and go every day.”

“Betsy and I will be back. We just need to spend a little time with her folks too.”

“Good. I have one other thing to clear up, and we can make some plans for another house.”

Lucas opened his mouth, closed it again, and rode away.

The women were stepping close behind him. Ransom waited until Lucas was out the lane before turning to them. “Let's go eat. We've got lots to do.”
God, you got me through that one, now comes the real challenge.

Mavis gave him a pat on the shoulder as they returned to the house.

What is happening now?
Every time Cassie looked up, Ransom was staring at her. Well, not staring exactly, just looking. Studying. He even smiled. After all that chopping and yelling, how could he be smiling? She glanced at Mavis. She looked more like a cat that had just cleaned up the cream. She and Gretchen stared at each other and shrugged. Obviously someone else in this room was as confused as Cassie.

Chief, Micah, and Arnett ate fast and then excused themselves, saying they had to finish the barn roof. They nearly ran over each other getting out the door, as if escaping. And no one mentioned Lucas! Things were getting stranger and stranger. Good thing she could spend the afternoon shooting and working with Wind Dancer. At least he didn't confuse her. And trying
to make a decision on that show contract. Shooting events was one thing, but this was for the show season, to finish in the fall. Did she want to take Wind Dancer and Othello and go on the road? This show was on the up and up and promised her a hefty sum of money. Enough to buy cattle and maybe even a couple of Appaloosa horses. Continuing her father's dream, as well as Ransom's. He had mentioned Appaloosas once.

She'd not shown the contract to anyone yet, instead praying for wisdom and God's will. Did He want her to go back on the show circuit? So far she had no answers.

“Something is bothering you,” Mavis said at the end of the meal.

Cassie wasn't even sure what she'd eaten. How to bring this up? She should have mentioned it three days ago, when it came in the mail. So much had gone on already, perhaps she should just wait until tomorrow.

“I repeat, something is bothering you.” Mavis didn't ask a question; she stated a fact.

Cassie tried to brush her off with a shrug and a headshake but instead had to blink back tears. This should be a happy event. She was being offered a chance to earn enough money in a couple of months to really make a difference around here. Not that they were in as difficult times as last fall, but perhaps she could begin to make her father's dream come true. Where did one buy Appaloosa horses?

Just get this over with
. The prompting voice sounded a bit peeved, as if tired of her vacillating. She pulled the envelope out of her apron pocket and laid it on the table. “I have been offered a contract to star in a well-known Wild West show, one of the few that is still in production. The contract includes my shooting act and trick riding, so Wind Dancer would go with me.”

“I see.” Mavis put on her
no comment
face.

Cassie hesitated to look at Ransom, but when she did, she
discovered him staring out the window. Had he not heard her? Gretchen abandoned her job washing dishes and plunked back down in her chair.

“Have you signed it yet?” Ransom asked.

Cassie shook her head. “You can read it if you want to.”

Mavis rubbed her chin. “That's for how many months?” she asked as she picked up the contract.

“Two and a half or three—till the end of the season.”

“They will provide your housing and travel, care for Wind Dancer, and someone to assist you during your acts?” A frown wrinkled her forehead. “It sounds like you'd need more than one person.”

“In our show, everyone pitched in to help the others. Micah helped me a lot and Chief. Then I had Joe, who sometimes assisted me in my shooting act. Everybody took on two or three jobs as the need arose, even the animals. Wind Dancer hates it, but he can haul equipment wagons if he has to.” She stole a look at Ransom. What was he thinking?

When he turned around and slapped his hands on the table, she jumped. “I think you and I need to go for a walk.”

“A walk?” She stared down at the contract.

“Excuse us, Mor, Gretchen. Cassie and I have some things to discuss.”

The frown left his mother's forehead, and a smile broke out instead. “Well, that sounds like a very good idea.”

Cassie reached for the contract, but Ransom beat her to it and stuffed it inside his shirt. Perplexed, she chided, “Ransom!”

“How about we head out to the pasture and bring Wind Dancer in for your practice?”

“All I have to do is whistle.”

“True.” He led her out the door into the bright sun.

They strolled out toward the three-rail fence of the near pasture.

“You know, uh, I'm not good at stringing words together. I can plan a piece of furniture and run a ranch, but saying what's inside me, not real good at that.”