Place to Belong, a Page 15

  “Feels that way.” She smiled at Mrs. Brandenburg, who was passing by with an empty casserole dish. “The people here are really friendly, aren’t they?”

  “You are easy to be friendly to.”

  “Why, thank you.”

  The hall emptied quickly and the families climbed into their sleighs. One set of sleigh bells, then three, then a cacophony jangled cheerfully in the cold night air, but now Cassie was cheerful too.

  “I’ll meet you at home,” Lucas called as Ransom turned the team toward the ranch.

  Snuggled down under the robes, Cassie felt Gretchen slump against her shoulder, sound asleep. She had a hard time keeping her own eyes open. Would they really go back into town Sunday for the Christmas service? Snowflakes started drifting down. And now they were zipping, not drifting. Cassie wanted to shake all this loose snow off the blankets, but that would let cold air in. Better to let it lie. By the time they reached the ranch, the snow on the blankets lay an inch deep and it was snowing hard enough to make seeing the road impossible.

  “Good thing the horses know their way,” Ransom said at one point. But Lucas was not at the ranch when they climbed out of the sleigh, and he hadn’t yet returned by the time Ransom and Arnett put the team away. From her room, Cassie heard Ransom come in. Not long after, the dogs barked, announcing that Lucas was home. All safe. She ought to join the others in the kitchen; instead she crawled into her soft, cold bed and tied herself into a tight knot, waiting for her chilly nest to warm up. She was so tired!

  She’d had a good time, most of the time, but some things just didn’t seem quite right.

  16

  Cassie sat staring at the Christmas tree they’d finished decorating. White candles were clipped to the ends of branches to be lit on Christmas Day. The bushy pine tree stood seven feet tall, with a silver star on top that Ivar had made years earlier. Popcorn strings looped the tree and glass icicles hung, glinting back the light from the fireplace. And the ornaments! Hand-carved sleighs, horses, and snowmen, with more stars and crocheted red bells, white angels, and blown-glass balls peeked out from among the fragrant boughs. And candy canes. Not glass, not carved. Actual candy. She’d never seen such a lovely tree. Sure, it was beautiful before they decorated it, but now . . .

  “Wait until you see the candles lit.” Mavis handed her a cup of cocoa and sat down beside her, a cup in her hand. Gretchen brought in a matching steaming mug and a plate of cookies.

  “Are we going to frost cookies this afternoon?” She sat at her mother’s feet, joining the others in staring from tree to crackling fire.

  Mavis smiled at her daughter. “If you’d like. We need to bake another batch of sour cream cookies too, so you can frost some of them.”

  “The gingerbread men need faces and buttons. How come you forgot the raisins?”

  “You weren’t here to remind me.”

  Gretchen grinned up at Cassie and rolled her eyes. “I told you I needed to stay home from the Hendersons’.”

  “Are all your Christmases like this?” Cassie made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the room. Arnett had made small wreaths to hang in the windows and a big one for the door. Pine boughs over the doors and windows and lit candles in the windows flanking the front door made the room even more festive.

  Mavis nodded as she looked around. “I love it like this. I always hate to put Christmas away.”

  “Where are the men?”

  “Down in the barn working on something secret.”

  “I wonder what it is.” Gretchen grinned at Cassie. “Maybe we should sneak down there and look in the window.”

  Her mother nudged her with her knee. “You’ll do no such thing. But we could bring in those presents that are wrapped and put them under the tree. Mine are done.”

  “Mine too.” Cassie had raided the brown paper stash to wrap hers, using bright yarn for the ribbon. “My mother used to love wrapping presents. One year she sewed a bunch of bags of calico and muslin and used those to wrap the packages. I think people were as pleased with the bags as the gifts.”

  Mavis nodded. “That’s a very good idea. One can always find a use for a drawstring bag. That would be a good way to use up those scraps too. That and for quilts.”

  Cassie nodded. “I saw a patchwork skirt one time. I always thought that would be a fun thing to do.”

  Gretchen propped her chin on her hands and her elbows on her knees. “I’d like that. We could each make one after Christmas while I’m still on vacation.”

  “Remember, we have a wedding to prepare for.”

  “Mor, remember when you made my rag doll?” Gretchen looked over her shoulder. “I thought she was the most beautiful doll ever. You even dyed and braided the yarn for her hair.”

  “Is that the one on your pillow?” Cassie asked.

  “Yes. Mor repaired her for me a couple of years ago, and I sewed her a new dress. I’m going to give her to my little girl someday.”

  “I had a doll once too, but I never was one to play with dolls. I liked the animals in the Wild West Show better. Every spring we’d have calves, and then my father found me a puppy. His name was Fredrick, and I called him Fred. When he grew old and died, we found Othello, who’s been with me ever since. Along with George and Wind Dancer, of course. I had a pony for years too. Her name was Miss Jay. I called her Missy. It is so hard because animals grow old much faster than we do. I cried for days after she went lame and my father put her down. He said it was an act of mercy, but I had a hard time forgiving him. I was so sure she would get well again.”

  Gretchen sniffed. “That makes me sad too. It’s bad enough when a wolf gets one in the winter, but that seems more natural. Still, I cried too when a wolf got one of our ponies once. I wanted to go hunt and kill the wolf, but Ransom said no. That was the way of the wild and the wolves were doing what God made them to do. Take care of the old and infirm.”

  “Remind me not to get old and infirm around here,” Cassie said with a shudder that made Gretchen and her mother chuckle. She drained her mug and set it on the low table, eyeing the candle in the center. “Did you make the candles too?”

  “I made a bunch of them years ago, and this is one of the last ones left. Used to be we made candles out of melted fat or tallow. One year we found a bees’ nest and I used the beeswax. This is one of those.”

  Cassie shook her head. “Do I need to learn that too?”

  Mavis chuckled and patted her hand. “No, Cassie. Now we can buy candles, like we buy kerosene for the lamps. Some places have gaslights and some have electricity now, like they did at the Chicago World’s Fair. Someday we’ll have electricity and telephones too. Things just come slower to the ranches than to the towns, especially the big towns like Rapid City and Hill City.”

  Gretchen snorted. “Mr. Porter will have the latest in Hill City—just ask Lucas.”

  Boots stomped, the kitchen door slammed. “That’s the men. Go pull the coffeepot forward, Gretchen, will you please. I’ll be right there.” When Gretchen left the room, Mavis turned to Cassie. “Is there anything else you would like me to do to get ready for the wedding? What are you wearing?”

  “Not that I can think of. I know Lucas wants apple pie instead of a cake. And I have a good dress in the chifforobe at the cabin. I need to get it out and get it pressed. I’d like to take that over to the other house—the chifforobe, I mean.”

  “Of course. And we’ll need to stock the pantry too. Did you look through the kitchen things when we cleaned?”

  “No, I didn’t take the time to look carefully, but I am learning to use the basic things, at least. I will discover soon enough what I lack.” She thought for a moment. “I know there wasn’t a lot of firewood there.”

  “We’ll take over a load of that too.”

  They both stared into the fire for a moment, watching the orange flames slither about, the blue flames hiding among the blackening sticks. What is it about fire that is so enthralling?

  “Cassie, I cannot begin
to tell you how delighted I am that you will soon be my daughter-in-law. That is the best Christmas present ever, far as I’m concerned.”

  “Thank you. I will do my best.”

  “I know you will.” She squeezed Cassie’s hand. “I suppose I better go see to the men.”

  Cassie listened to the conversation going on. Lucas was teasing Gretchen, and Arnett cautioned her to stand up for herself. Gretchen said something they couldn’t hear, but the laughter from the three men said she was taking Arnett’s advice to heart.

  Both women stood and headed for the kitchen.

  “The lefse! Of course. We must make lefse,” Mavis said as they paused in the doorway.

  Like little boys, Lucas and Ransom started arguing over who had to peel all the potatoes this year.

  Arnett stepped in. “You two go finish hauling the milled wood down and I will peel the potatoes.” He didn’t have to offer twice before the brothers were out the door, as if fearing he might change his mind.

  “I could surely peel the potatoes,” Cassie offered.

  “No, this is just fine. It’s bad cold out there. Let them work off some of that steam. I used to peel the potatoes for my Hazel. She was the best lefse maker in the valley.” He grinned at Mavis. “Other than you, of course.”

  “So many years she and I made lefse together. And usually fried fattigmann the same day. Both jobs that did better with two sets of hands. I know last year you seemed mighty lost.”

  He nodded. “I only went to church with you ’cause you came and dragged me out, brought me over here. I weren’t much caring if I lived or died. And this year, you took me in again.” He sniffed.

  Mavis wiped her eyes with the handkerchief in her apron pocket. “Seems I remember two neighbors who stood by me after Ivar died. Good thing I had the children, not that the boys were children any longer, but keeping busy makes the grief easier to bear. It’s just part of life is all, and God promises to walk beside us. Sometimes I think He does that in the guise of neighbors and friends.”

  Cassie could certainly understand that. “I was fifteen when my father died, and I thought the light had gone out in the whole world. I kept seeing him reunited with my mother, and I knew they were almighty happy again. That helped but not always. The people around me took care of me.”

  “Ah, isn’t this supposed to be a happy day?” Arnett asked. “Sure doesn’t seem like it so far.”

  “Start peeling.”

  By the time she’d rolled out the tenth ball of dough to the thickness Mavis required, Cassie had that part of the process down. So she switched to using the thin, flat lefse stick to turn over the circles of dough, bigger than pie dough, on the top of the range. She used crumbled newspaper to clean the flour off the grill every now and then and stacked the finished lefse in the layers of towels that kept it from drying out.

  “I remember my mother doing this on Christmas, but I was too little to help. She took over the kitchen in the cook tent for the afternoon. I loved being there with her. I remember it being a happy party with lots of laughter and some kind of hot drink. They’d raise their cups or goblets and everyone would say ‘skål’ and take a drink. I was never offered a cup to join them.

  “That night for supper, they’d bring out the translucent fish to the table from baking in the oven, potatoes and lots of melted butter, along with the lefse that I thought was the best. I never cared much for lutefisk, but I ate my share to be polite.”

  She remembered her father whispering in her ear, “Eat it quick and it goes down easier. We do this for your mother because it really makes her happy.” They’d never had lutefisk and lefse after her mother died. Quickly she shut off the memories. She’d think of them later or any minute she would be bawling like a baby. She glanced up to see Lucas watching her. The look in his eyes made her think perhaps he too knew something of sorrow. Maybe someday they would be able to talk about things like this and begin Christmas traditions in their house too.

  Lord, I want a marriage like my mother and father had. I know they might not have started out the way I remember them, but they loved each other so much. Mavis reminds me that nothing is impossible with you. I’ll keep telling myself that. After all, look at all the miracles you have done here so far.

  “Are you all right?” Gretchen asked quietly.

  Cassie nodded. “I will be.” She’d never had a sister before either. Surely this was another miracle.

  They woke up Christmas morning to wind-driven snow. It not only fell from the lead-gray sky, the wind carried the powdery stuff along the ground. A horizontal snow to go with the vertical snow, drifting against the buildings and fences, piling in a cone up against every tree. The men went to the barn to milk and take care of the animals, and Cassie was downright happy she didn’t have to go out there.

  Arnett arrived covered in snow. Even his beard had ice in it. “Sure glad we strung them ropes to the barn and bunkhouse. It’s so thick out there you can get lost even in that short distance.” He hung up his things and then backed up to the woodstove, a moment later turning to face the heat. “What we need is one o’ them rotisserie things, toasts all your sides.”

  When the boys staggered back into the house, Ransom plunked the milk pail down and announced that they’d not be going to town for church, but then everyone knew that anyway. While this was not a true blizzard yet, there was a strong possibility it would turn into one. As they sat down for breakfast, they could hear the wind shrieking at the corners of the house.

  Cassie shuddered. “Is it often like this?”

  “Usually a couple times a year. Long as we can keep the livestock fed and watered, we hunker down and ride it out.” Ransom sounded so casual, so confident when it sounded like the world was going to bury them. He half smiled at Gretchen. “Remember I am the checker champion from last year.”

  Mavis sighed. “So the Beckwiths will not be able to join us for dinner, but I sure hope Micah and Runs Like a Deer can make it down here. It would be a shame for them to miss out.”

  “I hope they’re smart ’nough not to chance it.” Arnett shook his head. “Was bad enough from the barn. Could hardly see the house from the bunkhouse.”

  Cassie went to stand at the kitchen window. Snow whipped by on the wind, not dancing and swirling but being chased. “I wonder if it was this bad in October. When we were in the wagon, we could feel every gust of wind. Felt like it might pick up the wagon any moment and hurl us across the land. I’d never felt anything like that in my life.”

  Mavis stood up. “Well, this isn’t the first Christmas we’ve spent snowed in, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. The ham is in, and the scalloped potatoes will go in later, as will the squash. We will take our julekake and coffee into the other room and light the candles on the tree and open our presents. The water pail is right by the tree. Lucas, I’d like you to read the Christmas story this year. And no matter how that wind howls, it cannot get in.”

  The back door blew open and Micah grabbed for it, ushering Runs Like a Deer ahead of him. Cold and snow swirled in around them. “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

  “’Bout scared me out of a year’s growth,” Arnett muttered. “Merry Christmas, you two. I sure am glad yer safe.”

  “Followed the tracks down. The fence line is still above snow too.” Runs Like a Deer slung the deerskin pack off her shoulder and set it on the floor while Micah hung up their coats.

  “Have you had breakfast?” Mavis asked.

  “Yes, thank you. Should we put these things under the tree?”

  “Of course, and if anyone else hasn’t done that, now is a good time. Ransom, bring the dogs in. They won’t mind missing the storm either.” Once they were all seated in the big room, Ransom and Lucas lit the candles on the tree and sat down. Lucas picked up the Bible and began.

  “And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syri
a.) And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee. . . .”

  Cassie put her arm around Gretchen and hugged her close. She had a family, a real family. The love she felt for them made her eyes wet as the ancient words poured into her heart.

  “And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.”

  Gretchen laid her head on Cassie’s shoulder. Runs Like a Deer and Micah were sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace. Othello laid his chin on her knee. She stroked his head with her free hand. Instead of watching Lucas read, she closed her eyes and let his voice roll over her.

  “And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them. . . .”

  What must that have been like? Fear not. How could one help but be afraid? She opened her eyes again to watch the candles on the tree. Such beauty! Surely God was in this place.

  When Lucas closed the Bible and laid it back on the table, Mavis breathed a contented sigh. “That was beautiful. Thank you. Can we keep the candles lit for a while more?”

  Ransom, sitting close to the tree, nodded. “I think so. Let me just pinch out a couple.” He sat back down. “Since Gretchen is the youngest, she has to give out the presents, right?”

  “I thought it was the oldest.” She grinned at Arnett.

  “You wouldn’t make this old man get down on the floor, now would you?”

  “What old man?”

  Arnett cackled and shook his head. “Mavis, you done raised this girl right. But I’d rather you did the handing out, young lady. Your eyes are better than mine for reading the names.”

  Gretchen left her place at Cassie’s side and knelt at the tree. She read the name on the first present, and they passed it around the room to Mavis. She continued reading until everyone had a package and then announced, “Now open them.”