Cassidy Page 11

  “Cassie,” she began, but everyone had to laugh when Trace’s arm went swiftly around that lady so his hand could cover her mouth.

  “We’ve got to get going,” Trace said, managing to sound regretful, all the time holding Cassidy’s mouth under his fingers. “Otherwise we’ll be late for the service.”

  Again Jeb could only laugh, and Patience had to join him. Trace put the wagon into motion, and Jeb did the same. Cassidy turned to look at the man next to her.

  “I wasn’t going to tell,” she defended herself.

  “I couldn’t take that chance,” Trace returned without apology.

  “So tell me,” she said. She was not going to let it drop. “Will I be allowed to speak to anyone this morning? Or are we keeping this a secret from the entire church family?”

  “I wouldn’t torture you in that way.” Trace managed to sound repentant. “It would be cruel not to allow a woman to talk for that many hours.”

  Cassidy’s mouth dropped open, and Trace shouted with laughter. That he was more than pleased with himself was quite clear.

  “You can stop laughing any time now,” Cassidy said, but he chuckled his way into town.

  As soon as they were spotted coming alone to the church, the congregation made swift deductions. And Cassidy ended up with plenty to tease Trace over. He was the one who could not stop talking about his newborn niece.

  Jeanette walked home swiftly from church. She would head out to see Meg and Brad in a few hours, but in the meantime she had someone else to talk to. Asking Heather not to disturb her, Jeanette went to the porch, shut the door behind her, and sat down to speak with her sister.

  “She’s here, Theta,” Jeanette whispered past a suddenly tight throat. “Your granddaughter was born in the night. Brad has a baby girl.”

  For long moments Jeanette could not say anything. Tears poured down her face, her eyes desperate to have her sister focus on her and the news she was sharing.

  “Oh, Theta, I don’t know if I can stand this. You would be so proud of Brad and Trace. They’re both so special. And Meg. She’s amazing, and she’s made Brad a father. You’re a grandmother, Theta.”

  Jeanette’s heart couldn’t take any more. She sobbed into her handkerchief, fresh grief pouring over her. She cried loudly enough that both Heather and Becky heard her. They would not have disturbed her for anything short of a fire, but it hurt their hearts to hear Jeanette cry.

  An hour passed before Jeanette emerged from the room. She did nothing to hide the tears she’d shed, and at Becky’s insistence, allowed herself to be fussed over, sitting down to have some dinner. Heather requested the small buggy and horse from Timothy, who did odd jobs and had kept the grounds and stables for Jeanette as long as anyone could remember. As soon as Jeanette was done eating, both women saw her on her way, convinced that a visit to see baby Savanna was just what she needed.

  “I didn’t know feet came in this size,” Trace said, Savanna lying on his arm. Brad chuckled from his place next to him on the sofa, both men just wanting to look at her. “Look at those toes,” Trace said next, and Brad could only stare.

  For a moment he looked at the way Trace dwarfed his daughter and knew that when he held her it must have looked the same way. Savanna fit on Trace’s forearm, and her pale skin and tiny hands were almost startling next to Trace’s huge tanned paw.

  As they watched, Savanna decided to peek her eyes open. There had been very little of this in the fourteen hours she’d been with them, and both men responded.

  “Hey, Savanna,” Trace said.

  “Can you wake up?” Brad coaxed. “Your mother wants to get a better look at your eyes.”

  In the midst of this, the front door opened, and both men heard Jeanette’s greeting. Almost at the same moment, Meg came from upstairs, a bit wobbly, but doing well. The family gathered in the living room. With more than a little laughter and even some tears, they told Jeanette the story of Savanna’s arrival.

  There is no way to describe how I feel about Meg’s baby, Cassidy wrote in a letter to her mother that night. I didn’t know anything could be so tiny and perfect. The envy I feel that Meg has a husband and baby is not the vicious type, but it’s still there. I can’t help but wonder if God’s plans for me will ever include anything so wondrous.

  Cassidy could not keep writing. She kept picturing the baby in her mind, her heart in awe over God’s work. Closing the letter and folding it for the box, she lay quietly for a long time before she slept, thoughts of Savanna Holden filling her mind.

  Thinking back on Rylan’s sermon, Trace sat up in bed on Sunday night and read the notes he’d taken. Rylan had been talking about God knowing people’s every thought and feeling, and how foolish they were to think that they could hide any fears or sins from Him.

  Rylan shared many verses, and Trace began to turn to some of them, starting with Proverbs 15:11: “Hell and destruction are before the Lord; how much more then the hearts of the children of men?” And then 2 Chronicles 6:30 and 31: “Then hear thou from heaven thy dwelling place, and forgive, and render unto every man according unto all his ways, whose heart thou knowest; (for thou only knowest the hearts of the children of men;) that they may fear thee, to walk in thy ways.”

  Trace read these verses over a few times before going to the first chapter of Acts where he read, “They prayed, and said, Thou, Lord, which knowest the hearts of all men.” The last verse Trace had written down was the one he decided to memorize, Psalm 44:21: “Shall not God search this out? For he knoweth the secrets of the heart.”

  I think You don’t know me sometimes, Lord. I try to hide the fears I have and my doubts about the future, thinking all the time that no one knows. But You do. Please help me to trust You with all of me and all of my life.

  Trace lay quietly then, thinking about the full day it had been. He was ready for the life Brad had, at least he believed he was, but clearly God had other ideas, or it would have happened for him too.

  I really do struggle to trust You at all times, Lord. In those hard times, when Meg is in labor or finances are slim for the ranch, I turn to You and trust, but for my whole future, it doesn’t come so easily.

  Trace went on to confess his lack of faith and trust, and to ask God to help him to see his faults right away, take responsibility for them, and commit to change. It had been a long day. Trace was weary, but he didn’t let himself fall asleep until all was right between him and his God.

  Meg sat in the rocking chair Brad had moved into their bedroom, her daughter in her arms. Brad was asleep. With a heart so full of amazement she could barely form thoughts, she held her daughter close, rocking her and kissing her small head. She had nursed her for a while, not sure Savanna had taken much in, but the baby had fallen to sleep again and Meg found herself wide awake.

  These first few weeks would probably be draining. Her schedule would be off with a baby to take care of. Savanna’s needs would take a little getting used to, but at least she felt well. Savanna had been born in less than three hours. Meg was barely even sore.

  “Meg.”

  That lady heard a soft murmur from the bed but knew that Brad wasn’t really awake. She stayed quiet, not wanting to wake him, and sure enough, the room fell quiet again. It was then that Meg knew she had to try to sleep. She would be worth nothing the next day if she sat up half the night holding a baby who wanted only to sleep. Surrendering Savanna back to her cradle, Meg climbed into bed and tried not to think about how weary she was going to be in the morning.

  “Good morning, Trace,” Jessie Wheeler greeted the moment she opened her door on Monday. “You’re in town early.”

  “Yeah,” Trace agreed, suddenly doubting his intentions.

  “Something specific I can show you?”

  “Boots,” the cowboy said, glad she offered.

  “For yourself?” Jessie asked, already moving that way.

  “No.” Trace found it easier to respond when she wasn’t looking at him. “I need to see the small
est pair you have.”

  Jessie stopped and stared at him. After a moment, she smiled very gently.

  “Did Meg have her baby?”

  Trace nodded, unable to hide his pleasure.

  “Boy or girl?”

  “A girl. Savanna.”

  “That’s pretty. And of course she needs boots.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  Jessie laughed a little, but there was nothing mean-spirited about it. She took Trace to a shelf and produced the smallest pair of boots he’d ever seen. They were all black with just a tiny bit of detail. Trace picked them up, unable to stop his smile.

  “They were actually a special order, and then the customer changed her mind,” Jessie explained. “And because they’re rather pricey, they’ve never sold.”

  “How much?”

  Jessie gave him a number that would call for a bit of extravagance, but his heart was set on Savanna having boots. She was a rancher’s daughter and nothing else would do.

  “I’ll take ’em,” Trace said.

  Jessie wrapped the boots neatly, handed them off with a smile, and spoke some final words. “Be sure and bring her in once they fit.”

  Trace had to laugh. Small as the boots were, Savanna’s feet would take a good deal of growing to fit into them. The cowboy thanked the mercantile owner and went on his way.

  “Well, Trace,” Chandler called with pleasure when that man stepped into the bank. “What brings you to town on a Monday morning?”

  “Just a quick trip to Jessie’s.” Trace grinned and then admitted, “I’ve been spending my hard-earned cash.”

  “Come to get more?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  “How are Meg and the baby?” Chandler asked as he got the money Trace requested.

  “I’m not sure how well the night went. Meg was tired this morning, but I guess that’s to be expected.”

  Chandler nodded before asking, “When do we meet with Rylan again?”

  “I don’t know. I think I heard Philip say his schedule is busy right now.”

  “At the telegraph office?” Chandler asked with surprise.

  “Yes.”

  “When do you leave for Burton?” Chandler asked next, checking on the cattle drive.

  “We’re planning on September thirteenth.”

  “Is there much to do before then?”

  “Not as much for me as for Brad. He’s going to move Meg and Savanna in here to Patience and Jeb’s, so he’s got more to do on his list.”

  The men talked about nothing in particular for the next few minutes, and then Trace left the bank. He was going to head straight out of town but decided to make a swift stop to see Rylan. That man wasn’t home. Trace left for the ranch still not knowing when the men would meet again to study.

  “I didn’t think this day would ever come,” Cassidy said to Meg on Wednesday afternoon. “I’ve been dying to hold this little girl again.”

  “I find that I don’t want to do much else,” Meg admitted, looking at her daughter in Cassidy’s arms.

  “Just say the word,” Cassidy said in a singsong voice, “and I’ll move out to take care of her.”

  “But how does that allow me to play with her all the time?” Meg asked.

  “Oh!” Cassidy said in surprise, realizing she’d gotten it all wrong.

  The friends looked at each other and laughed. The noise startled Savanna, which just gave Cassidy a reason to hold her closer, rubbing her nose into the baby’s soft cheek.

  “I saw your Aunt Patience on Monday,” Cassidy remembered. “She said she was coming out again.”

  “She came for the whole morning yesterday,” Meg said. “We had such fun and got so much done. Savanna slept a lot, and that was helpful.”

  “I would be torn,” Cassidy said. “I would know I had things to get done, but if Savanna was awake, I would want to hold her.”

  “I even hold her when she’s asleep,” Meg admitted softly.

  “How do the men like having her around?”

  Meg smiled. “Brad was just complaining that he hadn’t held her that much. If Trace so much as hears a sound out of her, he’s got her in his arms.”

  Cassidy smiled. This was not a side of Trace she had seen. It wasn’t impossible to imagine—he was a caring man—but it still gave Cassidy pause.

  “Oh!” Meg suddenly said. “I just remembered something.”

  Cassidy watched the new mother as she rose from the sofa and moved toward the kitchen. She returned carrying the smallest pair of boots Cassidy had ever seen.

  “Where did you get those?”

  “Trace came home with them. Aren’t they amazing?”

  “They’re so little!” Cassidy exclaimed, taking one in her hand.

  “They are, but Savanna won’t wear them for ages. Her feet are tiny.”

  Before Cassidy could answer, the women heard the back door open. Brad came in long enough to tell Meg that their neighbor was in need of some help. Bart Carlisle, who owned the next ranch up the road was short two men, and both Brad and Trace were headed out to give him a hand. They planned to be back for supper, and in a very short time the women went back to talking to and about Savanna. They never did get to that day’s sewing project.

  The second Sunday in August finally arrived. Rylan was awake early, feeling a little odd not to have a sermon on his mind. Could five years really have passed so swiftly? Rylan lay in bed, the day already feeling warm, letting his mind drift back. He’d been just twenty-one the summer he’d come to Token Creek. There had been no guarantees that the congregation would want him to stay. Larry English had asked him to come, confident that he was the man for the Token Creek church. Rylan had trusted him and come. Without warning, five years had slipped by.

  “In preparing for today,” Chas Vick shared, standing at the front of the church, “I talked to a lot of people. It’s probably more customary to allow the man who’s being honored to say the closing words, but I wanted to do things in chronological order, which means you’ve got to hear Rylan’s story about coming to Token Creek. Trust me when I tell you it’s the best place to start.”

  Chas took a seat, and Rylan moved to the front. He caused his congregation to roar with laughter when he suddenly produced his Bible and said, “Now if you’ll turn with me to the book of—” Rylan stopped, having pulled off the joke, and then began his story.

  “I actually arrived in town on a Thursday. I had ridden trains and stagecoaches for days, and when the coach stopped here, I was dusty, hot, and tired. I also had no money to make the return journey.

  “I was standing on the boardwalk, looking around and getting my bearings, when a man approached me and asked if I was looking for work.” Rylan smiled a little at the memory. “I was broke enough that I didn’t say no, at least not until I found out that he wanted me to keep the peace in his saloon.”

  The congregation loved this, and Rylan did not continue until the laugher died down.

  “The next person to speak to me was Pete Stillwell. I still thank God that he spotted me as I was headed past the livery. He asked me if I’d ever done any smithing.” Rylan paused, looking confused. “I can’t imagine why he would ask that. I’ve always had the impression that I looked like a banker.”

  Even as the congregation laughed, Rylan continued. He explained the way he’d found the parsonage and how Larry English took him in. The congregation was expecting him, and after a month of spending time with them, preaching each week and answering as well as asking questions, Rylan was asked to stay. Pastor English took his leave by the fall, and Rylan had been with them ever since.

  “I can’t believe five years have passed,” Rylan said as he wrapped up his part. “It’s been the most amazing time of my life, and I thank you for everything you’ve been and done. I’m looking forward to today, and to the next five years.”

  Many other people shared stories when Rylan sat down. Some were light and fun, and some were tear-filled as the co
ngregation recalled the way God had worked through Rylan and God’s Word, and how their lives were changed. They sang songs and shared testimonies for three hours before Chas wrapped things up and said it was time for dinner.

  The group exited to the area at the back of the building. Tables had been set up between the church and the parsonage, and the celebration continued there.

  “The first time I met Rylan,” Chandler shared with Cassidy and some others as they ate lunch, “I did a lot of staring.”

  “Why was that?”

  “His size. I loved his comment about looking like a banker. I’ve always thought that he couldn’t look less like a preacher.”

  “He is a big man,” Cassidy had to agree. Chandler, Brad, and Trace were all very tall, but Rylan topped each of them and was large to boot.

  “The pastor I grew up with could not have been more different,” Chandler continued. “He was barely five feet tall and as slim as a reed.”

  Everyone at the table fell to talking about their past church families, but Cassidy didn’t share. She had come to Christ as a teenager, and some of her memories from that time were painful. Talking about anything relating to the past made her uncomfortable. And when she spotted Meg holding Savanna, she went to steal the baby away, needing a little time alone with her thoughts.

  “That was amazing,” Cassidy said. She and Jeanette were the last to leave the potluck and were speaking to Rylan.

  “Yes, it was,” Rylan agreed. “What an encouragement. What a testimony to our saving God.”

  “Thank you, Rylan,” Jeanette said, a hand to his arm. “We would not be who we are without you.”

  “Thank you, Jeanette. Thank you both for coming.”

  The women said their goodbyes and started off. Jeanette stopped long enough at Cassidy’s door to tell her she would see her in the morning, but the older woman was long gone by the time Cassidy took her Bible indoors and came back down the stairs.

  At the moment Cassidy felt restless and a little lonely. The day had been wonderful, but she didn’t have family to go home to, and right now she missed that.