Lauraine Snelling (4 page)

Cassie shook her head. “No, no I can’t do that. The cabin will be wonderful.” She kept from looking at Ransom, sure that the granite had not begun to crumble. But then again, all she knew about granite was that it was extremely hard, so she was not surprised. So far it seemed that all the giving was on their side and all the taking on hers. She had to earn enough money to pay her own way—hers and her “family’s.” Surely there would be some names of people in the show world in those papers she’d saved in the wagon. If only she had paid more attention, but Jason Talbot had always promised her he’d take care of her.

Well, he’d done that for sure. Only a canyon ran between his idea of caring for her and hers. And she was sure Talbot’s shortcomings would have distressed her father too. If only he were there to celebrate with her.
“Welcome home,”
Mrs. Engstrom had said. Could this indeed become the home she’d always dreamed of? And even more so, the home her father had dreamed of?

C
assie leaned forward and patted Wind Dancer’s shoulder. “I still can’t believe we will have a place for the winter. Nothing like we were used to, but no matter—it’ll be better than the wagon. At least it seems that way for right now. I sure wonder what the whole story is about those early years.” Wind Dancer’s ears flicked forward and back as he listened to her voice. “I guess talking with you isn’t a whole lot different than talking to Chief or Micah. No one answers much.”

The horse snorted, making her smile. “I apologize. Of course you listen and answer. But I have to warn you, there will be no warm stall for you this winter, and we are going to find out what winters in South Dakota are really like. Chief says they can be brutal. I wish I knew what he meant by that. I guess we will learn.”

On the other side of the road from the entrance to the Bar E Ranch, another road ran off to a different ranch. This one didn’t have the attractive pole with the ranch name carved into it. She wondered who lived there. Would the other ranchers in the area accept them like the Engstroms had?
If
they had.

Mavis. Lucas. Ransom. Each so different and yet obviously so close. A family. Ransom’s anger burned into her, so unbending, defying her to quench it. Mavis was the leader, the matriarch, so surely he trusted his mother’s . . . trust! That was it. Ransom did not trust her, did not fully believe her. There was no reason he should, she realized, but neither was there any reason he shouldn’t. There’d been many times when others had been angry with her for some reason. The moment had always passed. But never had she been deemed untrustworthy. If distrust formed at least part of his attitude, his refusal to trust her ate at her worse than his anger ever could. But was she right about that?

Since she had no answers, she switched her thinking to the money situation. What would it take to set up some shooting matches? How did one go about getting invited to participate? Tonight she would go through those papers and learn whatever she could, no matter how long it took. She turned into the narrow road that led to the camp. At least tonight she wouldn’t have to worry about those ruffians from Argus finding them and causing more problems. She didn’t allow herself to imagine what those problems might have been.

Othello did his dance of greeting, and Chief and Runs Like a Deer looked up from working on the deer hide they had been curing. Runs Like a Deer had said that she wanted to finish the job, whatever that took, so she could make something from it. They watched and waited for Cassie to dismount and tie her horse to a wagon wheel.

“They want us to come today. They’ve invited us for supper. There is a log cabin by the mine that will be ours for the winter.”

Chief nodded. “I remember that cabin. We all worked to build it.”

Cassie stared at him. What other information was he not sharing about those early years? Most likely everything that had happened. If only she could get him talking about those times.

“How big is it?”

“Bigger than the wagon for sure.”

“The older brother, Ransom, wants to clear out the mine where it collapsed and search for gold again.”

“The vein quit.”

“I have no idea about that. Anyway, Mrs. Engstrom said that they would all help us get the cabin ready for winter.”

“Good.” Chief looked around. “You ready the wagon. I will bring in the team. Micah will round up the cattle and buffalo.”

“Should I use the water from the barrel to kill the fire?”

“Yes. We can refill it there.” Within an hour they were ready to leave the campsite. Cassie, on her horse, stayed behind to make sure they had everything and then followed Micah and the animals down the road. Chief was driving the wagon, with Runs Like a Deer sitting beside him.

By the time they drove into the ranch, Cassie’s butterflies had returned to have a party in her middle. Was she doing the right thing? Were there any other things she could do? Should do? Why was it that taking from these strangers who really didn’t feel like strangers did not sit well with her at all?

You are living your father’s dream,
she told herself.
Living here is where you need to be, on the land he owned with these people. You are now a half owner of this ranch.
She repeated that to herself.
I own half this land, this ranch.
She had never owned anything in her life but her clothes, her guns, and her horse, but now she owned half a ranch in South Dakota. A place to live. A safe place for her and her friends.

Following the instructions Ransom gave him, Chief halted the wagon on the west side of the barn. Ransom opened the gate to a fenced-in pasture, and they drove the three buffalo and the cattle through. When she and Micah had dismounted, she introduced them to Ransom.

“So you really knew my father?” he asked, shaking Chief’s hand.

“I did. A good man.”

“Were you here when the mine collapsed?”

“Yes.”

“I wish you would tell us about that some time.”

Chief only shrugged.

Cassie watched the exchange, wondering, as she was sure Ransom was wondering, why Chief didn’t volunteer more information. But then, she knew Chief, and he never volunteered anything. While Micah unhitched the team, she unsaddled her horse and they let all the horses loose in the pasture where the other animals were already grazing. They had stopped by the water tank and filled up the water barrel at the pump. Setting up camp was easy, for they had brought their dry wood along with them to start a fire.

“Mor is planning on all of you coming for supper. We’ll eat at about five.”

“Thank you. This is Runs Like a Deer, and Micah is our animal handler.”

“We call men who take care of cattle ‘wranglers.’”

“Oh. Then Micah is our wrangler. Micah, meet Mr. Ransom Engstrom.”

Both Micah and Runs Like a Deer nodded but with no hint of a smile showing.
He must think we are an unfriendly group,
Cassie thought.
Unfriendly and come to take part of his land. Possibly untrustworthy. We haven’t made much of a good impression, I’m afraid.
But she kept her thoughts to herself, making sure she was wearing her company face. Not the performing smile but a public one. It wasn’t hard to understand why he seemed less gracious than his mother, who had recognized the deed immediately, since she had one to match it. She had an idea that this whole land ownership thing was as new to the brothers as it was to her. She wasn’t sure what made her think that, but there it was.

“Can I get you anything else?” Forced politeness again. It was a shame his younger brother wasn’t out here instead.

“No, thank you.” Polite for polite.

“Then I’ll get on with my chores. If you need more firewood, the back porch has shorter wood cut for the stove, and the front porch has longer for the fireplace. Help yourselves.”

“Thank you.” Cassie watched him walk off and then turned to Runs Like a Deer. “I’m going to sort through some more of those papers.” What she really wanted to do was go spend the afternoon with Mrs. Engstrom.

“I will finish up the deer hide. Chief said to go hunting in the morning.”

Cassie heaved a sigh. “All right.” Going hunting never rated high on her list of pleasurable things to do. But they did need to eat, and more and more she was seeing the value of the hides. She’d worn the mittens that Runs Like a Deer made for her and knew that when winter hit, she’d be even more thankful. There were now enough rabbit skins to make her a vest, she’d been told. She climbed into the wagon, pulled out a drawer, and started digging.

As she sorted through the letters again, she watched for anything to do with acts in shows, but mostly, she wanted contacts for shooting matches. Nothing. Where had she put them? She pulled out another of the built-in drawers along the long wall and, sitting back down at the table where she had the kerosene lamp set up, attacked another stack. It was a shame she had not separated them all out the last time. When she finally located the correct stack, all the addresses were for cities on the East Coast or in the South. What could she do to get to them? She had no money, no contacts, and no experience in this organizing part. In the past, she’d had Jason Talbot to do this and her father before that. Whom could she ask for advice? Alone and lost hardly began to describe her feelings.

If only she had copies of the letters Talbot had sent out. Did he never keep track of anything? Anger at him and his poor business practices sputtered and revived in her middle. No wonder he’d gone bankrupt. But what did he do with the money the show brought in? He’d paid the payroll, usually on time, he’d fed them all and provided housing and must have paid other expenses until he declared them bankrupt. But how much money had he taken with him? She’d never know, so she smashed the thought before it could continue to eat at her. She didn’t really want to see him again anyway.

One night earlier she’d read through one of the account books her father had kept. The show had been healthy then, with a solid worldwide reputation, only to be disbanded in Dickinson, the most westerly point of their circuit. Her mind wandered back to the glory days, as she was beginning to think of them. For several years after her father died, the show had done well. In the winter months she had participated in rehearsals for new acts and in exhibitions that Talbot had set up. Had organizers invited them to take part or had Jason set them up? The latter seemed less probable now, as she realized his lack of ambition, or was it his lack of ability? She’d never get answers to her questions now, and she’d been too trusting before. It was a shame it had taken such a major shock to wake her up.

Cassie glanced up to see that the daylight coming in the window of the door had started to dim while she was sorting. Mr. Engstrom had said supper at five. Was it nearing that? She eyed the stacks and drawers left to search through.
Please, Lord, let there be something in all this to help us. Someone. You know we need money to get through the winter. Not just the winter. How do I make sure we have enough to take care of us and the animals?
The weight of responsibility hung on her like the chains that had locked down the wagon on the train cars when they traveled between shows.

She looked up at a knock at the door. None of them knocked, so it must be one of the Engstroms. “Come in.”

Gretchen stuck her head around the door. “Mor sent me to remind you that supper is nearly ready, if you’d like to come up to the house.”

“Thank you. Let me put things away here, and we’ll be right there. Are the others nearby?”

“Around the fire.” She hesitated.

“Would you like to come in?”

“Mor said I shouldn’t bother you if you were busy.”

“I just ceased being busy. You are welcome to look around. The wagon is an interesting home.”

Gretchen stepped in and shut the door behind her before staring around. “I’ve never seen so many drawers and doors. It’s like a playhouse.”

“That it is.” Leaving her guest to continue her inspection, Cassie gathered up the stacks she had sorted through and put them back into separate drawers and cubbyholes. No sense mixing things up again. The stack of helpful papers was mighty short. Surely there had to be contact people somewhere out there.

Reverend Brandenburg from Argus. He must know a lot of people in the local area. She’d ask him when she went to town the next time. Maybe she would need to make a special trip. Closing the last door, she smiled at her guest. “Okay, I’m ready. How was school today?”

“Good. Two boys got in trouble for not having their homework done.”

After they stepped outside, Cassie nodded to the others. “You ready?”

“We could stay here,” Micah offered.

Gretchen’s face fell. “Please don’t. My mother likes to have company, and we’re all excited to get to know you.”

Cassie kept from rolling her eyes. If she knew anything about people, the two Engstrom brothers were not excited. Resentful was more likely. Purely angry obviously fit the older son, and resentment and anger were not excitement. She didn’t blame them; at least she tried not to. She tried to pay attention to what Gretchen was saying, but the closer they came to the front steps, the more she wanted to hang back. She glanced over her shoulder, feeling like she was leading the parade and the others would rather not be in it. She didn’t blame them either.

“I hope you’ll tell us all about your life in the Wild West Show,” Gretchen said as she opened the door and stepped aside for them to enter.

“Welcome back,” Mrs. Engstrom said as she dried her hands on her apron. She reached out to take Cassie’s before turning to the others.

“Mrs. Engstrom, I’d like you to meet Runs Like a Deer and Micah, who is our wrangler.” There, at least she’d used the right word. They both nodded, but their smiles remained hidden.

“I’m glad to meet all of you. Welcome to the Bar E. If you’ll make yourself at home, supper will be ready in a minute or two.” She gestured toward the leather sofa and the chairs. “My sons will be here in just a couple of minutes.”

“May I help you?” Cassie had no idea what she could do, but it seemed proper to offer.