Lauraine Snelling (18 page)

T
he lovely golden leaves were dancing to their death, the trees that used to glow so brightly now becoming skeletons. And they’d had no more snow after that first blizzard. It seemed ages ago now, but it was shortly before Cassie arrived in her valley of dreams. And that was not long ago at all.

She made certain that she spent part of every afternoon working with Wind Dancer in the corral, adding her shooting tricks to the riding routine. Their act smoothed out again, and her confidence returned, but she realized she also needed more shooting time. And the practice she needed most was with live birds. That didn’t seem possible. The game birds she did get to hunt weren’t released like those in a shooting match, so she made do with Micah throwing things into the air. But a can or a wood chunk arced cleanly in a smooth line, and she needed practice with the unpredictable track of an actively flying target.

That Wednesday after the Sunday match, as she referred to the exhibition for Mr. Porter of the Hill City Hotel, she rode into Argus with Mavis for more shells.

“I never paid attention to how many boxes of shells I went through before. Practicing can go through a box in no time. Do you think Mr. McKittrick was serious when he said he would like to be my sponsor?”

“JD has a reputation for picking winners, so I’d say he was very serious. All you can do is ask. I know he was mighty impressed on Sunday. He took Ransom aside and tried to find out more of your story, but Ransom never volunteers information, as you might have figured out by now.”

Cassie smiled. Wasn’t that the truth! “He should have asked Lucas.”

“If you remember, Lucas was keeping himself in the background on Sunday.”

“He still doesn’t look too good.” Cassie had seen Lucas the other morning when all the men went up to cut more trees and start lopping off branches. Mr. Arnett had gone home to his own ranch but promised to return when they were ready to mill the next trees. Cassie paused before continuing. Should she ask, or should she not? She took a deep breath of the air that was beyond crisp now and well on the way to cold. The robe they had over their legs was mighty welcome.

“How soon, I mean, ah . . .” She caught her breath and started again. “I am concerned about meeting with Mr. Porter, and yet I think we need to talk sooner rather than later. Does that make any sense?”

“Talk about what?”

“The December event he said he was setting up. I guess I want to know what kinds of events he is going to stage. Will it be strictly shooting contests? More than two entrants? Will there be live birds, and if so, where will he get them? I haven’t shot live birds for quite a while, and I would sure love a chance to do that before the competition.”

“Those are good questions, and I have absolutely no answers. I guess we just have to take a day and go into Hill City to talk with him.”

“What if we go all that way and he isn’t there, or doesn’t have time, or . . .” Cassie stopped, made fists, and scrunched her eyes. “I’m worrying, aren’t I?”

“In a word, yes. You have no control over any of it, so you just pray and ask God to show you, to tell you what to do.”

“
Just
is a mighty big word.”

“I know. If we had those newfangled telephones out here like they do in some other places, this would be easy. But we don’t, so we’ll ride into Hill City. If we pray about it and God doesn’t put up any roadblocks or give either one of us a feeling of danger or His saying no, then we go.”

“Do you really believe God will do that?”

“Oh, Cassie.” She grabbed Cassie’s left hand with her free one. “I do so believe that, and I’ve seen it happen over and over. We can pray for that together, right now, if you want to.”

“But you’re driving the team.”

“Do you think God can’t hear above the clatter of the wheels?” Her grin told Cassie she was teasing.

“I . . . I’m just not used to this kind of praying.”
Actually, if I were to be honest, I’m not real comfortable with any kind of prayer any longer. Is prayer something like a habit that needs building?

“What kind?”

“Well, out loud and with someone else.”

“Then now is as good a time as any. If you like we can stop the wagon, pray, and then continue.”

“All right.” Cassie released a breath that felt as if it had been trapped down around her knees.

“Whoa.” Mavis eased back on the lines. The horses stopped, steam rising from their breathing like a cloud around their heads. “I’ll start, and then your turn, and I’ll close. Okay?”

Cassie couldn’t talk around the lump in her throat, so she nodded. In a way, this felt so disturbing. And yet it seemed not the least bit wrong.

Mavis took Cassie’s hands in her own. “Heavenly Father, you said that wherever two or three are gathered together in your name, you would be right there with them. So we know you are right here in this wagon with us and you want us to talk with you. I know you’ve been listening to this discussion, so we needn’t tell you again what’s been said so far. So, Lord of heaven and earth, please let us know if you want us to go to Hill City tomorrow. Or if another day would be better. We know you will make the path level and clear for us, because you promised that.” She squeezed Cassie’s hands to let her know it was her turn.

Cassie struggled to find words. She cleared her throat and then needed to do so again. Why was this so hard? “Uh, God, this is so strange to me but yet exciting too. Will you really give me an answer? I truly want to do your will. I want you to guide me because I know you are smarter than I am. Thank you in advance. Oh, and please make your answer
real
clear.”

“Dear Father, we, your daughters, will watch for and listen for the answer. Thank you for all you do for us, all the time, whether we are aware or not. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

“Amen.”

“Now, you have a Bible, right?”

“Yes, my mother’s.”

“Good. Tonight I want you to read some of the Psalms and see if God speaks to you through them. Okay?”

“I will.”

Mavis hupped the horses and they continued on into Argus to stop at the general store. Mr. McKittrick greeted them with a huge smile when they entered. Several men were gathered around the potbellied stove set in an open area off from the counter. The coffeepot steamed on the stove, and smoke rose from the pipes and cigars clenched between teeth. They’d been laughing when the door opened but stopped to see who was there.

“Well, Miz Engstrom, good to see you,” one man said as he teetered back on the chair legs.

“Good to see you, Mr. Emmons. If your wife saw you treating the chair that way she’d—”

“She’d let me know, all right. But you wouldn’t tell on me, now would you?”

“I don’t know,” Mavis said. “Depends on what you’re offering.”

The overall-clad man slapped his knee and hooted. “Can’t never get one up on you, that’s for sure.” The chair legs resumed their rightful angle—straight up.

“Hey, how’s Lucas’s nose? That blood sure spurted.” This was a different speaker. A sheepskin hat was parked on his bent knee.

“He’ll live. Hopefully they both learned their lesson.”

“Not a good thing to go trifling with a Hudson girl. That Harry’s got a hot temper.”

Cassie could feel her face start to heat up, possibly from the warmth of the stove but probably from the topic of discussion. She smiled in the general direction of the three fellows and continued to the counter.

“Don’t pay attention to those guys,” JD told her. “They got too much time on their hands, you ask me.”

Cassie smiled. “Thanks. Could I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure. Come on back by the dry goods.” He led the way to the aisle with bolts of fabric on both sides. “Now, how can I help you?”

Cassie wiggled her fingers and nibbled her lip. “Well, the other day you said you’d like to be a sponsor for . . . for my act.”

“You’re right. I did say that.”

“Were you serious? I mean, I’m going through shells like . . . well, too fast, but if I don’t practice, I’ll never win that match. We need some other things too, and while it bothers me to put things on credit, I know I need to for those supplies.” She grimaced and looked away. This was terrible. She should never have come begging. Nothing was more humiliating than begging.

“Tell you what. The missus and I talked this over, and she’s as excited about this as I am. We’ll pay for all your shells up to the match, and after that we’ll look at the plan and maybe renegotiate. And maybe there is someone else who would like to share in the sponsorship. I mean, none of us ever did anything like this before.”

“How will you make anything on this deal?”

“Well, let’s say you give us ten percent of your take, at least at first, and perhaps we can talk about that at a later date too. I mean, if you make a lot of prize money, maybe you’d like to share more with us. You know, we scratch your back, you scratch ours. And we put up a sign that says the Argus General Store is a sponsor. That way we’ll get some advertising too. What do you say?”

“I’d say you are being very generous.”

“So how much do you need?”

“Say, ten boxes.”

“That’ll last you what, a week?”

“Maybe I should start refilling my own.”

“It’s hard to be perfectly accurate with handloads. You go along with this for right now. I think I have about fifteen boxes left. I’ll order again. You leave me a box and take the rest. These are for your rifle, right? Do you need shotgun and pistol rounds too?”

She nodded. This was awful, and yet he was trying to make things easy for her. “All I can say is thank you, and I will do my best.”

“What more can we ask for? Now, if you and Mrs. Engstrom have other errands to run, you go do that, and I’ll get your orders ready. Do you need anything else beside shells?”

“Yes.” She dug the list of three things out of her pocket. “And you’ll put those on my account?” She returned his nod and went to find Mavis.

She was at the other end, looking at kitchen utensils. “Let’s leave the wagon here for JD to load, and we’ll walk over to Brandenburgs’.”

“Fine with me.” They set out and Mavis moved to the other side of the street when they passed the saloon.

“It wouldn’t break my heart any if they drove that business not only right out of town but right out of business.”

“I wonder if that was where my father won half interest in the Wild West Show.”

“Doubtful. I don’t think they were in business yet. I think from something Ivar said, the saloon was in Rapid City.”

“That’s quite a ways from here.”

“It was even farther then, as the roads were almost nonexistent. If it hadn’t been for John Birdwing, they never would have found the valley. I think his tribe was really put out with his showing those two white men where the gold was. Perhaps that was why he never went back, or at least never stayed there again.”

“Did he have family there?”

“Must have.” They climbed the porch steps of the Brandenburg manse and banged the knocker against the plate.

Mrs. Brandenburg opened the door and burst into a broad, warm smile. “Mavis and Cassie, what a nice surprise! Why, I just took an egg cake out of the oven, too hot to frost even. Come in, come in. Reverend Brandenburg, look who we have for company.” She turned back to them. “He gets into the books in his office, and a big wind could blow the front door right off and he’d never notice.”

“Now, don’t go telling on me like that.” He extended both of his hands, one for each of them. “Welcome, welcome. Oh, what a treat this is.”

Mavis laughed. “You two.” She shook her head. “We can’t stay long. JD is gathering our order.”

Husband and wife exchanged a serious look, and then he nodded. “I think since you are here, that is an answer to one of my prayers. Come into the kitchen, where we can be comfortable. I’ve been hearing some strange rumors, nasty ones, and much as I hate to think I might be gossiping, I think you need to hear them too.”

Mavis and Cassie now exchanged a startled look. They took the chairs offered around the table, and the three of them sat down while Mrs. Brandenburg cut the cake and poured Juneberry syrup over it. Once cake and coffee were on the table, Reverend Brandenburg stared at his dessert before looking at Mavis.

“There is a rumor going around town about some folks muttering about them Injun lovers out to the Engstrom place. I just ignored it until a third person warned me about it.”

“Do you know who it is?”

“Not for sure, but I could make a good guess.”

Mavis nodded. “I could too. So do you think we need to be afraid?”

“I don’t know. We’re praying God’s protection for you, and I’m sure Edgar is aware of it too. He always keeps his finger on the pulse of the town.”

“We’ll keep a watch out. But, Reverend, you know those loudmouths. Get them liquored up and they’ll say anything. All they need is one troublemaker to stir the pot.”

“That’s what concerns me.” He paused. “There’s more.”

“More? Isn’t this enough?”

“Well, on this one we know the source for certain. The younger Hudson daughter is threatening to get even with Lucas for leading her sister on. She says Betsy’s heart is broken, and she had to go away to visit her aunt, because she can’t get over the heartache. So the whole family should do something. That Lucas must pay.”