from working on his gold mine? She just might do that.
And where had Lucas gone?
Where is your Christian spirit, Ransom Engstrom? If only there were a way to throttle the insistent little voice that nagged at him constantly. Love thy neighbor. Yeah, right. He’d let Lucas do the loving part. Besotted was the only possible word to describe his younger brother. All over Miss Cassie Lockwood.
The bane of his existence.
He heaved the last of the cut poles into the wagon bed. That was another thing they were going to have to do, should do, this fall. Go up into the woods and look for straight, slender poles for the stack they kept constantly available in case a pole-and-post corral had to be repaired or a new one was needed. His father always got all that advance work done in a timely way. Why could Ransom not keep up?
Tomorrow was Sunday, so at least he would have that day off. Lucas was planning to go hunting this evening with Miss Lockwood and Chief. He didn’t know why; they had not seen the elk herd recently. He climbed up into the wagon seat and hupped the team forward. When he arrived at the cabin, Micah and Chief were still digging holes for the posts. Even Ransom couldn’t fault the two men, the way they took his instructions and went to work. The old man sure put a lie to the old adage that all Indians were lazy. Of course Ransom knew that from experience already, but still the thought ripped through his mind.
They unloaded the poles and stacked them in the middle of the circle. He’d brought up the six-foot posts earlier. This wouldn’t be a high corral like down at the barn, but a three-rail fence, enough to keep unambitious horses in. “Micah, why don’t you keep digging and Chief can help me set these.”
Micah wiped the sweat off his forehead with his arm, his shirt sleeves rolled up. While it was a brisk fall day, it had frozen hard the night before, and digging postholes raised a sweat. He nodded and stepped off the next ten-foot section, eyeing the other holes to keep the circle true.
“I can help,” Cassie said as she joined them.
Ransom started to turn down her offer but instead slammed a post into the hole. “Hold this straight up while we put the dirt back.”
She nodded and did as he showed her. All without talking, which surprised him even further.
If Lucas knew she was out here working with them, he’d have been right here. Where is he?
He drove the heavy steel rod down to pack the soil tight around the post. “You’ll have to hold it straight and steady while we tamp it down.” When she didn’t answer, he gave the post a bit of a push to straighten it. “Like that.”
“Sorry.”
He eyed the post when they were done. Straight. On to the next. Straight. On to the third. He shook his head. “You can’t let it lean like that. If it turns out not straight, we’ll have to dig it out and tamp it down again.”
Othello rose and came to stop at her knee. He looked up at her as if asking if she was all right. Then he stared at Ransom.
As if she needed a bodyguard. The next time he started to say something, he would have sworn the dog understood every word. The dog’s eyes lowered, and he took one step forward.
“It’s all right, Othello. Sit.”
The dog sat, but he never stopped watching Ransom.
The next time, Ransom moved the post himself, said nothing, looked at her through slightly narrowed eyes.
She smiled wanly. “Guess I need lessons in straight up.”
“I guess so.” He kept his voice very gentle. The dog actually smiled. Ransom stared at Cassie, who stared right back, but she had rolled her lips together.
“Is he always this protective?”
“Yes.”
They stepped back to see how all the posts looked. Ransom clamped his teeth together. Three more to go. “I do hope you can keep these straight.” While his tone was absolutely polite, he wanted to say plenty. But he didn’t. The three posts ended up straight. Guess she finally got the hang of it.
With the