Leather and Lace

Chapter 29

After the funeral, Morgan helped Casey pack up her belongings from the parsonage and move to the ranch. He understood she had to live somewhere, but he regretted not having her nearby. When he had arranged to live at the boardinghouse, the answers to the problems between them looked easier to solve. He could see her every day, court her properly—bring her flowers, tell her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. Now they were separated again. He struggled with how to talk to her about the way she distanced herself from him. Most days, he suspected he’d chased her off for good. If he could figure out what to do, he’d do it. But this way, he felt helpless. And frustrated.

Two days later, Morgan volunteered to help his mother, sister, and Casey assist the reverend in going through Sarah’s things. He sensed it was his last chance to rekindle what he and Casey once had. Casey didn’t look pleased to see him. She rarely did anymore.

“You’re an answer to prayer,” the reverend said at the sight of the group. He led them to the kitchen, where Casey made coffee. “If left to me, I’m afraid none of this would get done. Every time I think about it, I feel like I’m destroying her memory.”

“She lives inside you, Reverend. Nothing will ever destroy that,” Jocelyn said.

“It’s better this way. I remember what it feels like.” Morgan shrugged, then offered a smile. “Reverend, I’ll make sure these women get everything in order.”

Bonnie poked him in the ribs. “Who’s going to make you work?”

His mother and Bonnie pointed at Casey, but she took a step back. “I don’t own a whip. Besides, I have plants to move.”

“Morgan, I think you and I are at the mercy of these women.” The reverend laughed, but it sounded forced. “Do you mind if I take these pies and cakes to needy families? I’m afraid they’re going to spoil if something isn’t done with them soon.”

“By all means. I don’t think you’ll ever eat them all.” Jocelyn waved her hand over the table. “It’s a shame to let it go to waste.”

“I thought I might wait until you ladies are finished sorting through Sarah’s clothes, but you could be busy all day.” He obviously needed something to occupy his time.

“We’ll be done in about three hours if you want to deliver the extras now.”

The reverend agreed, and Morgan quickly loaded much of the food into the back of the wagon. Once he had the reverend headed down the road, he made his way up the stairs to find Casey. She bent over a plant and scooted it out of the bedroom.

“I think you need some help there.” Morgan slid into his teasing mode in the hope that she’d tear down that barbed-wire fence around her heart.

She stood and massaged her back. “Oh, kind gentleman, I accept your offer.”

He lifted the plant through the doorway, and the two carried it into the upper hallway.

“Do you need another pair of hands?” Bonnie said.

“I think we can manage.” Morgan turned his attention back to Casey. “What is this called?”

“I don’t know. It looks like a stalk of corn or a small tree to me. I meant to ask Sarah, but I kept forgetting.”

“Well, it’s fixin’ to grow right up through the ceiling.”

“That’s why it’s going outside. Hopefully, a heavy frost won’t damage it. Sarah said if it did, all I’d have to do is cut it back.” Casey tilted her head. “I may trim it a bit today.”

“Shawne, where are the other plants?” His mother stepped into the hallway with Sarah’s few dresses draped across her arms.

“The African violets are sitting on a kitchen windowsill. I’ve written the reverend a note explaining how to take care of them. The soil has to stay moist, and he shouldn’t let water touch the leaves. The ferns are in a shady area on the front porch along with the ivy.”

“I guess you have it all taken care of,” his mother said.

“Do you think the plants will sadden him? They’re a constant reminder of Sarah.” Bonnie stepped into the hallway. She, too, had her arms laden with clothes.

“Perhaps,” his mother said. “We’ll check in on him now and then. I’d think keeping them alive and healthy would be in fond memory of Sarah.”

Morgan felt as out of place as an armless man in a milking contest. What a bad idea to help the women. He should have gone with the reverend or worked in his office. “Is this the biggest plant to move?”

When Casey affirmed his question, he glanced about. “I’ll get this corn-looking plant outside, and then you can tell me what I need to do next.”

Casey sighed and smiled. He wanted to put that pleasure on her face for the rest of her life. “I think that’s a splendid idea. We should pull out Sarah’s mattress and replace it with the one I used.”

She walked with him to the front porch, where she pointed to the perfect spot for the plant. “Thank you. I thought my back would break in two.”

“You could ease the pain in my heart by agreeing to marry me.” He regretted the words the moment they left his lips.

“I can’t.” She fussed with a brown spot on one of the leaves. “I can’t even talk about it until all of this is over.”

Why can’t I keep my mouth shut? Casey wrestled with the nightmares that he wanted to destroy. “I’m sorry. Leave it to me to spoil a good morning.”

“Nonsense. You made it a wonderful morning.”

But he didn’t believe her. Casey was slipping through his fingers, and all he could do was watch.

*****

Casey watched Morgan walk toward the shed in back of the parsonage. Her heart ached for what she could not give. She wanted to say what he craved to hear, but she couldn’t. She tarried awhile, examining the rosebushes and pulling a weed here and there. Appreciative notes needed to be written to those who’d brought food. Housework awaited her attention. Sarah’s room had to be aired. She didn’t feel like accomplishing any of it, but it had to be done. Praise God, Jocelyn and Bonnie were there to help.

She blinked and allowed a tear to slip onto her cheek. She wished folks wouldn’t question her about setting a wedding date. No one really understood her reluctance to get married. No one sympathized with her but Sarah. Granted, Morgan was a changed man, and he never seemed to tire in proving his devotion to her. His efforts made her feel guilty of the doubts plaguing her mind, but she simply could not agree to marry him until her misgivings were gone. Not a day passed without a reflection upon Sarah’s last words of advice. God always answered prayer, and Casey simply needed to listen . . . and wait.

When all the plants had found new homes and Sarah’s clothes were sorted, Jocelyn and Bonnie chose to clean Sarah’s room while Casey cleaned the kitchen.

The sound of Morgan’s voice diverted her attention. He waved and made his way toward her. She stepped onto the front porch, and her pulse raced at the sight of him. Some things never changed. She didn’t understand her own emotions. How could she want something and be afraid of it at the same time?

“I’m ready for digging fence posts or whatever you need.” The late morning sun picked up the light in his eyes—filled with love for her. Yes, she did love him dearly.

“I know of a farmer who needs a new barn. Looks like a lovely day for a barn raising, doesn’t it?” she said.

“Yes, but I’m powerful hungry. I’ve worked hard this morning.”

She picked up her skirts and made her way to his side.

Morgan leaned against the front gate. “Do I smell coffee? Is there any of that apple cobbler left?”

“Morgan Andrews, you haven’t helped me carry out the old mattress yet. I think you’re trying to get out of a little work.”

Shock spread over his face. “I wouldn’t think of it. Why, when it comes to your coffee, I’d ride halfway around the world.”

“So what’s your price to finish up the work here?”

“A cup of coffee, a big bowl of apple cobbler with fresh cream, and a hug.” He reminded her of a schoolboy reciting his lessons.

“You certainly know how to try a woman’s patience.”

“That’s my price.” His grin looked permanent.

She tried to glare at him, but she laughed instead.

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry.” He touched his hand to her cheek. “But you always look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“And I love you.”

How long had it been since she’d told him she loved him? She took a deep breath. “I love you, too.” But I’m not ready to get married.

“Thank you. Those are the words I needed to hear.” His hand lingered on her cheek. “So what do I get first?”

Casey sighed. “Coffee, cobbler, and then a hug.”

“Wonderful. Are you bringing it out here, or am I permitted to come inside?”

“Inside, Mr. Andrews. Let’s not give anyone a thing to gossip about, and let me remind you that your mother and sister are in the house.”

Once the back door closed behind them, Morgan reached into the bucket of water that she’d used to water plants and splashed her. She reached into a pan of water that she planned to use for cleaning and splashed him back. For the moment, she relished in their game and pushed aside Sarah’s death and all of her misgivings.

“Would you two please settle down?” Jocelyn called from the upstairs. “The neighbors will wonder what y’all are doing.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Morgan said. “Your favorite Shawne won’t let me work.”

“Me?” Casey covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “Your son is pestering the life out of me.”

“You two are worse than a couple of kids,” his mother called.

“I agree,” Bonnie said. “Mama needs to take you to the woodshed.”

Morgan shook his finger at her. “See what you’ve caused.”

If only these wonderful times would last. “All right, I’ll give in this time.”

After she served the cobbler and a light kiss was given to sweeten his coffee, Morgan grasped her hand. “I want to make you laugh like this every day for the rest of our lives.”

And she knew he did, but a lump in her throat the size of the Double H refused to let her utter another word.

*****

Casey slept little over the next week. The meeting with the federal marshal consumed her. Her appetite vanished, and she fought hard not to tear into her friends like some wildcat. She needed logic rather than worries to rule her mind.

The federal marshal could decide that her information was no better than what they already had in their possession. Another outlaw could have offered the same deal. A hundred things jumped in and out of her musings, and none of them were good. The what-ifs curved and turned with every fleeting thought. Her accountings of events and people might not be enough to sway the President of the United States. The man in charge of the country had many critical matters before him. Her request might appear insignificant or troublesome. Casey had never believed in fairy tales or grandiose ideals, and she didn’t intend to start now. But she prayed for a miracle.