Cassie

By Linda Louise Rigsbee

When her father abandoned his family and her mother died of grief, Cassie had to grow up fast. Their Texas ranch still had a mortgage, so she took a job with a freighting company and left her two younger siblings with a friend.
She learned to tolerate the desert heat, manage a team of mules and ignore whispers behind feminine hands. She conquered her fear of the wild country and animals. With the aid of a bull whip, she staved off any overzealous male admirers. The one thing she couldn't conquer was her distrust of men.
Then a band of renegade Apache chased a handsome Frenchman into her life. His humor and personality won her heart, but she still didn’t completely trust him – not even after he saved her life. She looked for a reason not to trust him, and she found it. Would she drive him away, or would she look that hard for a reason she could trust him?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Louise Rigsbee
• Release date: Feb 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463897225

Linda Louise Rigsbee

Linda Louise Rigsbee is an award-winning multi-genre author with over 60 published books. All her books are void of profanity or explicit sex. Many Genres; One Theme. Keep it clean.

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CASSIE

A Clean Western Romance

Linda Louise Rigsbee

Copyright 2019, Linda Louise Rigsbee

Smashwords Edition

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CHAPTER 1

Cassie leaned forward on the wagon seat, squinting anxiously into the incandescent sunrise. The riders were a blur in the heat waves, but she was certain that one was Pete. More than likely the unidentified rider was only another drifter. Still, her stomach would be tied in a knot until she was sure it wasn’t her father. Not that she was likely to see him again…especially out here in the desert, hundreds of miles from their little Texas ranch.

As she watched, the horses plunged down a dune, sending a spray of white sand into the dry air. No, it wasn’t her father. Even at a distance it was obvious that the man was much taller and he rode with a proud kind of grace that her father never possessed. Her breath escaped in an unexpected sigh. That familiar, yet annoying, pang of disappointment took its place. Was it the little girl deep inside of her that still longed for Daddy to come home - even after being abandoned?

She removed her sombrero and mopped her forehead with the rolled up portion of her shirtsleeve. Ridges of sparkling white sand surrounded the camp like a sleeping dragon, soaking heat from the sun - resting now so it could spit its fiery breath at them later in the day. The gypsum sands of New Mexico Territory were relentless in their search for new victims.

Tucking a wayward strand of curly brown hair back into her bun, she replaced her hat and wrapped the lead lines around the wagon brake. With a final glance at the approaching figures, she dropped from the wagon seat and sauntered over to join the men at the cook fire.

Davis handed her a scalding cup of coffee, his chocolate gaze scrutinizing; probably searching for some indication of congeniality. A resolute shrug indicated his search was futile. Undaunted, he opened the conversation. It looks like we’ve got company.

She accepted the coffee and scowled into the tin cup. Probably another greenhorn Pete had to pull out of a scrape. We’re already late getting started on account of him and the saddle bum will probably use up another half-hour of daylight eating our food.

Fritz shot her a sour look. What made you so bitter about men? The big German accepted a cup of coffee from Davis and squatted beside Royce at the fire. His dark eyes reflected the disapproval in his tone. A woman your age ought to be looking for a husband, or already married, not chasing all over creation in pants, trying to act like a man.

I wouldn’t think of acting like a man, she answered in a flippant tone. I can do better than that. His caustic expression served as a catalyst to her boredom. Anyway, what’s so terrible about a woman wearing pants?

Fritz glared at her. Don’t you ever read the Bible?

Nothing made the hours pass faster than a lively discussion, and Fritz was always fair game. She tossed out the verbal bait and waited for him to strike.

Of course I read the Bible. In no place does it say a woman shouldn’t wear pants.

Fritz pointed a stubby finger at her. Not in so many words, but it says women shouldn’t dress in men’s clothing.

Yes, he took the bait and he was running with it. She smiled sweetly. So who says pants are men’s clothing? Didn’t Jesus wear a robe?

Davis chuckled softly. I believe she has you there, Fritz.

Fritz shot Davis a warning look and abruptly stood, glaring down at Cassie. You’re deliberately missing the point. Women aren’t supposed to assume a man’s role.

She shrugged. "Maybe that’s what it means, maybe not. Anyway, what is a man’s role?"

Fritz studied her warily. He hated it when she won an argument. He gave the question some thought before responding with an illusive and general answer. A man’s role is to feed his wife and family.

And if he doesn’t? Then who is supposed to feed them?

He focused his attention on the coffee in his cup, swirling it while he avoided her probing gaze. Then a woman has to do the best she can on her own.

He knew he was being backed into a corner. His determined gaze finally shifted to her face. I’m not against a woman having a job, as long as she sticks to work meant for women.

Cassie’s brows arched. You mean like cooking? Or helping with the plowing or hitching up the team? Or maybe driving the family wagon in for supplies or ...

I get the point, he interrupted in a brusque tone. You hired on as a cook. We’re short handed so you wind up taking care of your own team and wagon. Why Pete hired you instead of a man, I’ll never understand."

That wasn’t the point she was trying to make, but maybe a man would never understand what she was talking about. She didn’t mind tending the team. In fact, she enjoyed it. What she didn’t like was the idea that when she finished paying for the ranch, her father could come back and claim it. A woman could do all the work but somehow the man got the credit and benefit. It wasn’t fair but that was how the law read – and how most men felt. Not surprising, since they made all the laws. Getting upset about it wasn’t going to change anything, though, so she forced a grin as she met the troubled gaze of Fritz.

Maybe Pete didn’t like your cooking. Anyway, my point was that women are expected to do all the things I’m doing on this job. They just aren’t expected to stray too far from the homestead in the process – or get paid for it.

Fritz smiled wryly. You’re a mighty fine cook, but it isn’t safe out here for a woman. He sobered and watched her intently as he spoke. Don’t you know people talk about a woman who spends weeks out here with men - and men start to get ideas.

That last statement strangled the life out of the discussion. Of all things, why did he have to bring that up? She met his accusing gaze coldly.

Men get ideas when their wives are at home trying to be everything a man expects of them. Anyway, why do men have to act on every idea that crosses their mind?

He winced at the rancor in her tone.

Did some man deal you a lousy hand?

She shrugged and turned away from him. The conversation was getting too personal.

Let’s just say I learned the hard way that I can take care of myself.

Royce snorted, unfolding his tall gangly frame from the ground.

Sure, ‘til someone snatches that whip out of your hand and gives you the spankin’ you’ve been asking for.

She ignored his implication that women should be punished like children. She let her stern gaze rest on each of the men before responding.

Until men learn the meaning of the word no, I’ll protect myself in the way that has proven most effective.

Davis gulped the last of his coffee and turned the cup up side down on a rock so it would drain.

Cassie, a woman as good looking as you should be used to saying no. His dark eyes twinkled. Tell me the truth. If we all treated you like one of the guys, wouldn’t you be a little disappointed?

She stared into her cup, not wanting to say anything that would add fuel to the torch she suspected he was carrying for her. At forty he was still an attractive man, but a romantic relationship with him was the last thing on her mind. Valuing his friendship, she had developed a knack for turning the conversation on a less perilous course.

I appreciate the fact that you guys watch your language around me and make sure you’re all busy at the camp fire when I need privacy. It’s nice to have that special respect.

Davis rubbed his jaw reflectively. Sure.

His gaze shifted to Royce. Let me make one thing clear. If any one of you lays a hand on her, you’ll be answering to me. A woman has a right to protect herself – any way she can.

Royce snickered. Davis, don’t you think you’re a little old for her? You and Fritz are both old enough to be her father.

Three pair of hostile eyes turned on the sandy-haired