A family spiralling out of control.
A child forced to grow up too fast.
Is there any room left for a young girl to find herself?


Book Two ‘Childhood’
Chapter 11 – Little House on the Prairie

 

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Author's Note: Cassie and the team settle in and start to become a family. But not without an unpleasant reminder of why she had to flee California. As ever please be tolerant of my failings, and forthright with your criticism. ~Persephone

Current Score: US Readers 14 – 2 UK Author

Photo by  Christopher Campbell on Unsplash
© Persephone 2019

~o~O~o~

For the rest of the weekend Cassie took the team’s downtime as an opportunity to get to know some of the members of her new ‘family’.

Wayne Bass, from Detroit, had been the squad’s medic, or more properly ‘Corpsman’. And while he could easily already get a job as an EMT or Paramedic, he wanted more.

“My ma, she jus’ ‘bout kicked my butt ’til I joined the Navy and was way clear of the ‘hood’s gangs. That was all she wanted for me y’know? Out of the ‘hood, decent job, family an’ all. But I spoke to a couple of the Navy docs out in the ‘Stan, an’ I reckon I can go all the way. Get into pre-med, bring Mom out of Detroit. Do right by her. This job, the GI Bill, and mebbe a Federal Scholarship an’ I can afford it.” Wayne ducked his head in embarrassment. “I ‘aint told the guys none of that Cookie.”

Cassie understood. “I won’t either Wayne.” She promised, then sighed. “In a way I guess we’re the same. We’ve both got promises to our Mom’s to keep. We’re both here to help make them happen.”

A big smile lit up Wayne’s face. “Yeah, you get it girl.”

She managed to catch up with Eric Carr in the early evening as he was quietly sitting on the back porch of the house. In his hands were an off cut of leftover lumber and a whittling knife.

“Looks interesting Eric.” Cassie teased softly, conscious of the busy sharp blade.

Always boisterous in company, now alone, Eric merely smiled as he shyly showed her the partially carved figure of a kitten stretching, that he was working on. Even unfinished, the figure seemed to come to life in the lengthening shadows.

“Oh wow! Eric, that is…., she’s beautiful!”

“I’d do better with some proper hardwood. Walnut maybe. I’m just fooling around here.”

Cassie sat down beside him on the Stoop and watched his busy fingers as they chatted. Eric had been apprenticed straight out of High School to a cabinetmaker out in New England. All reproduction furniture and snobby customers. He’d stuck it for a couple of years before running to the recruiting office. “I want to make art, not fake Queen Anne ‘escritoires’ sized for an iMac with built in cable runs. But to be taken seriously you need a degree. Mom and Dad didn’t have the money so… here I am.”

Cassie sat quietly beside him for a while, until it was time to put dinner on the table.

“So Cookie, how can we help you?” Norman had asked when she’d cornered Brandon and he in the dining room after dinner.

Norman Lejman and Brandon Szczepkowski (‘call me Ski’) were the newcomers to the close knit team. Whilst they had been in the same Company as the guys of second squad, and pounded the same dirt in the sandbox, the immediate easy familiarity she’d noted amongst the rest of the team wasn’t quite there yet. Both of them were tough reserved guys who didn’t speak often, but when they did it was with a dry laconic wit that Cassie found refreshing. She also couldn’t help but see the deep and abiding affection between the two of them.

“I thought that was my line!” Cassie grinned as she took a chair kitty corner across from the couple.

Norman glanced across at his partner with a wry smile. “We’ve pretty much got all that we wanted. Acceptance, a home, worthwhile work and a chance for the future. Everything else is just icing.”

Later that night as she settled into bed, Cassandra thought about Norman’s words, and decided they could just as well apply to her.

On Saturday morning Cassie and Michael were heading back out to do the first of the team’s weekly grocery shops.

“Are you all registered for school yet Cassie?”

“Almost. I just need you to sign off on some of the forms.” Cassie hesitated. “I’ve taken a few risks.”

“Go on.” Michael started to frown.

“Well, I sort of registered as Cassandra McCarrick.” Cassie pressed on, suddenly nervous.

Michael raised an eyebrow at that. “I thought the idea was to stay hidden?”

“I’m going to need a High School transcript in my real name some time Michael.” She defended. “I figured female students from Oregon attending an online High School out of Texas, wouldn’t be somewhere Cali Children’s Services would think to go looking for Carl McCarrick.”

“Okay, I see your point. I just wish you’d spoken to me first.” Michael reached over and briefly squeezed Cassie’s hand. “You’re not on your own now Cassandra.” He gently reminded her. “You chose me to look after you, and I accepted that responsibility. But that also means that you also have to accept my authority in looking out for what’s best for you. Agreed?”

Cassandra realized he was right; she’d been selfish. “Sorry Uncle Michael. I guess I didn’t think,” she replied contritely. Despite knowing that Michael had taken some serious chances for her, she had thoughtlessly put him and the guys at risk, as well as her. Feeling guilty, Cassie decided that it was time she started considering others and trusting again. “Can we spend some time this afternoon going over everything?”

“Sure kiddo. We’ll do that.” He gave her hand a final squeeze. “Now where are we heading first?”

Sunday morning Cassie was unloading the dishwasher when a rat-a-tat-tat came at the back door.

“Coming!” Cassie called out as she quickly shoved the still hot pile of plates into their cupboard. “Who is it?”

“Marie. I’ve brought cookies as it seemed appropriate.”

Cassie opened the door to welcome her. “Come on in and thank you!”

Marie dropped her offering on the table and gave Cassie a quick hug before sniffing the air. “Oh wow! You make your own bread? That smells wonderful. So where are your herd this morning?”

“It’s just a bread maker, but the guys can’t get enough of it.” Cassie smiled. “Most of them are out doing a recon for places to hunt. I think they just want some time away from the site before starting work tomorrow. Can I get you something to drink?”

“A coffee would be great thanks. It’d also give us a chance to grab a cookie before they vanish.”

“Did someone say cookies?”

Cassie rolled her eyes as Malik stuck his head into the kitchen. “Marie just brought them as a present. Marie, meet Malik Franco. Malik, this is Marie Fairchild; one of our new neighbors. They have the house two up the street on the right.”

“Hi Marie, nice to meet you.” Malik waved a couple of cookies as he retreated. “Um, these are awesome! Thanks guys.”

Cassie and Marie shared a look of good natured exasperation as the door swung closed behind him.

“You got them all settled in and under control then?” Marie asked with a grin.

“Think so, I haven’t had any complaints so far, and they promised to help with the chores at weekends.”

They continued to chat as a steady stream of visitors started appearing in the kitchen once word of the cookies got around. “Malik! Leave some for the rest of guys please?”

Marie chortled. “Yep, you’ve got them sorted! You got anything left to do?” She asked.

Cassie bit her lip. “I was wondering, do you know how to use a sewing machine? We didn’t cover it in Home Ec,“ Cassie fibbed, ”and I need to finish off the curtains.”

“I surely do Honey. I’ll trade you for lessons on those bread machines. I never thought of doing that.”

“It also saves about a dollar a loaf as well,” was Cassie’s smug reply. “And that’s at Walmart prices, not ‘Dread Pirate Robert’s Commissary’ here. The machines will pay for themselves in well under a year.”

Marie chuckled at the name Cassie had coined for the on-site grocery store. She then spent some time showing Cassie some of the features of the site radios they’d been issued. “These are better than the ones we had in New Mexico. If you punch in the bunk house number on these you get a direct line. Just like a local cellphone call.”

“Neat!” Cassie enthused when another thought occurred to her. “Is it true what Mr. Ribas said about going out alone? It sounded a bit scary.”

Marie thought about that for a moment. “I guess it depends on what you’re used to. Most of the guys will be pretty respectful an’ all, despite being rough and ready. But there’s always some young bucks who want to push it, ‘specially with so few young women around.” Marie gave Cassandra a knowing look. “We should be fine during the day when everyone’s at work, but back in New Mexico, I never went anywhere out of doors of an evening or weekends without one of the crew as escort. And I always stayed well away from the bar when it was open. The way I figured it was to act like we’re in an Old West frontier town. Not exactly the feminist ideal, but it kept me safe.”

Cassie nodded, remembering some of the exhibits that she’d seen in the Autry Museum of how women had lived back then.

“The other thing you’ll soon learn is that the girls working up in Administration will form their own clique and look down on the rest of us. Bit like the cheerleaders in High School you know? They think because they work in an office they’re better than us, or we’re only here to get laid.” Marie snorted. “I’ve seen enough of them sneaking out to the bar of a night, looking for some, despite them sticking their noses in the air come Sunday service.”

With that Marie glanced at her watch. “Uh oh, I better get back. The ravening horde will be demanding food in a hour.”

“Oops, same here. Thanks for coming by Marie.”

“You’re welcome honey. We’ll set up some time during the week for those lessons. Now I gotta run.” The two of them hugged briefly and headed off to get lunch onto their respective tables.

As usual on Sunday afternoon Cassie checked her email for messages from Kath. She found three, two from Kath and one from a Deputy Rheinhart with an attachment.

She opened the first from Kath and found that all the attackers had now been convicted and were in Jail.

‘Dad was the last.’ Kath wrote. ‘Aunt Megan says he will probably be out in a year, so she is pushing ahead to get custody of both of us long before then. Thank god for your comic! We sold it for twenty two thousand, and the lawyers’ fees will probably top twenty thousand despite it being a ‘slam dunk’ according to Mr. Horsfells (He’s Aunty Megs’ attorney).’

Cassandra then opened the second email from Kath that she’d sent two days later. This time her tone was very different. ‘Cassie, we just had a visit from an LA County Deputy making all sorts of threats. He said that if you don’t turn yourself in you could be sent to Juvenile because you refused to give evidence. He said you’d committed Obstruction of Justice just like Dad, and you were probably committing crime somewhere to be able to live and if we didn’t tell him where you are we’d be guilty too. He made me print off all your emails and he took them away with him. Please please be real careful Cassie.’

Cassandra took a long look at the third email as she decided whether to download and read it, but something didn’t feel right. She went looking for Michael instead.

As soon as Michael saw her he was concerned. The chirpy confident girl he’d seen at breakfast had vanished and reverted to the scared kid he’d met in Denny’s nearly two months ago. “What’s wrong Cassie?”

Immediately every head in the living room swivelled round.

Cassie struggled to get the words out. “Th…there’s a cop back in LA. He’s threatening if I don’t come back I’ll go to jail an… he’ll cause problems for Kath and Aunt Megan. He sent an email bu… but something isn’t right.”

Michael was already on his feet, instantly shifting back into his old command mode “Tony, with me. The rest of you hang slack for a bit. Cassie, show us.”

Relieved, Cassie led the way back up to her room where Tony slipped into her chair as Michael explained. “Tony was a bit too handy with a computer as a kid. Joining the Corps stopped him getting a record.”

At the same time Michael was quickly scanning through the two emails from Kath. “Why’s an LA County Deputy involved?” He muttered to himself. “It’s an LAPD case. Rheinhart? Rheinhart? Why does that ring a bell?” A slow grin spread across his face. “I remember. He turned up my Junior year at Oak Vale to do a drug awareness course. He was the uncle of one of the seniors. Pete Johansson. The same Pete Johansson who’s Marty’s big brother.” He looked down at Tony. “Found anything?”

“Oh yeah! Looks like a bit of malware hidden in a pdf file. Not sure what it does but I’m real glad you didn’t download it Cookie.”

“So what do I do now?” Cassie asked with a shiver.

Tony shrugged. “Ditch this account. Set up a new one. Write an email from the new account to little cookie monster, and get her to show it to your aunt. Explain the guy’s bent, related to one of the perps, out of his jurisdiction and committing a misdemeanor under 18 U.S.C. § 1030(a)(5)(A) by sending you malware. Then let your aunt’s attack dogs have some fun.” He looked around to see them both staring at him. “Hey! You think I’d forget what they tried to hang on me?”

As soon as she’d got herself back under control Cassandra set up a new account and started typing; only to be interrupted by Michael returning with a mug of hot chocolate. He set it down beside her. “This’ll help.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay Cassie. We’ve got your back.”

Cassie couldn’t help it any longer. She spun round and launched herself into Michael’s arms. Sobs ripping from her throat as she did so. “I was so scared! He threatened Kath and Aunty Meg. If you hadn’t been here…”

Michael shushed her, rocking back and forth. “But I was… WE were. You’re our Cookie Monster Cassie. You’re family.”

~o~O~o~

Despite some early mishaps, life in house twenty two quickly settled down to a comfortable normalcy. Unknown individuals (no names, but his initials were ‘M.F’), quickly realized that raiding the kitchen for goodies without permission, rapidly drew the annoyance of their teammates down upon them, and led to smaller slices of Pecan pie at dinner. The guys also learned to check for the large red flag hanging off the bathroom door before wandering in while absentmindedly scratching their balls. Especially as the pills Doctor Zeebowski had prescribed began to have their anticipated effects on Cassandra’s body.

A piercing screech followed by running footsteps, accompanied by ‘Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!’, down the whole length of the second floor hall allowed everyone to guess Tony Rossetti hadn’t been particularly on the ball that Sunday morning. The fact that both he and Cassie had faces as red as stop signs for the rest of the morning pretty much confirmed it.

Cassandra’s weekdays started at six and she was busy in the kitchen by half past, getting breakfast ready and preparing ten lunches. By seven thirty the guys had left for work leaving Cassie to her routine.

Lock up behind them, clean up breakfast and start fresh loaves. Then upstairs to clean one of the guys’ bedrooms, collect that room’s laundry and replace their bedding and towels. Start the washing, then grab her own shower before whipping round the house to clean the bathroom and shared areas. Washing out, either outside on the line or into the dryers, and then it was time to log into school at ten.

In many ways Cassie found the online courses far more engaging than being in a traditional classroom. She could progress at her own pace and no longer felt embarrassed about asking questions now no one was glaring, or whispering ‘suck up’ or ‘nerd’ behind her back. The teachers, while tough, were always ready with praise when earned, so that Cassie was almost reluctant to log out in the afternoon.

After school she made a start on getting dinner ready, before tackling the pile of ironing and putting it away in the guys’ room.

The team got back from the complex around six-thirty, dragged themselves upstairs for a shower, and reappeared freshly scrubbed as Cassie was setting out large bowls of veggies and creamy mash before disappearing back into the kitchen to start ferrying out warmed plates loaded with chicken and dumplings or meatloaf depending on the menu. As she did so, the guys on KP duty that night would fetch everyone a glass of wine or (for Cassie) grape juice.

Once everyone was served and seated Michael would glance around.

“Josh, your turn for grace.”

By now they had all learned that, on this, Cassandra was not to be crossed. So Josh merely bowed his head. “Bless us, O Lord, and these your gifts, which we are about to receive from your bounty. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen.”

After dinner Cassie helped the guys on KP that night to clean everything up, while she set up for the morning. Finally she made a point of joining the team for an hour and hearing about what was happening at the complex, or settling down to watch TV with them, before heading up to her room around nine to write an email to Kath or read for a little before turning in.

It was a demanding routine and for the first few weeks Cassie was exhausted by the time she finally reached her bed. However, as time progressed things steadily got easier, and she found herself relishing her role, taking pride in having a well managed and attractive home, and finding happiness in seeing the guys eyes light up as she brought out something new, or an old favorite, from the kitchen. It may not have been some lofty ambition, but Cassandra felt fulfilled with what she had. A home, acceptance, security, and the affection of a family of big brothers all watching out for her.

Occasionally Cassie would do something to surprise her team.

Hector was one of the first downstairs that night as his nose pulled him towards the dining room. He was reaching for the door when Malik advised him, “already tried, she’s got it locked ’til she’s ready man.”

Five minutes later everyone was gathered, hungry and beginning to drool at the smells. Michael was about to bang on the door when it swept open.

“Buenas tardes caballeros.” Cassie offered with a curtsey. “Welcome to Señora Ruiz’s kitchen.”

Behind her the table was loaded with a range of hot spicy dishes surrounded by piles of tortillas, dips and salads.

Hector’s grace in Spanish was one of the fastest the team had heard. Then they dived in like wolves. What they didn’t spot was Cassie’s laptop set up at one end of the room with the screen blanked.

When the last of them sat back with a groan, finally stuffed, Cassie looked up the table to Hector. “So Hector, was that close to your Mama’s?” She asked with a small smile.

“He..ck yes! Cookie, if I didn’t know better, I’d say Mama was in the kitchen.”

Cassie’s grin grew wider. “Well, she was, sort of.” With that she un-blanked her laptop’s screen.

“Mi Corazoncito, it’s good to see you and your friends still enjoy my cooking.” Hector’s jaw fell open as his Mama sat comfortably in front of him. “So, Little Cassie asked for my help. Where are you nena?” She looked around until Cassie moved herself into range of the camera. “Here Mamita.”

“You look after this girl Hector, you hear me? And how come you never told me about Skype? You just sent me a single side letter every week, that’s not enough. Now Cassandra has helped me get set up, so you can call your Mama every week for a proper talk. You hear me?”

“Si Mama.” Hector finally managed to squeak out, before his Mama took over the conversation again.

Later that evening, just after Cassie had said goodnight to everyone and headed up to bed, there was a soft tap at her door.

“Hector, what’s up?” Cassie asked, a little flustered as she saw who was at her door.

“Just to say thank you, and sorry, mi hermana pequeña. I was one of the guys who were a bit weirded out at first. But you really are a girl aren’t you?” Then he reached out and softly hugged her, following with a light kiss on her forehead. Then he turned away and heading back downstairs without another word.

~o~O~o~

The other focus to Cassandra’s new life was, to her surprise and amusement, the church. KM&M had finally arranged for the new minister to arrive. Not some fire and brimstone spewing tub thumper as Cassie had feared, but a soft spoken Methodist minister fresh from the Welsh valleys.

When Reverend Davies spoke, it was with a melodic lilting voice that seemed to be always on the edge of song, and Cassie felt she could listen to him for hours. In line with the company’s policy, he kept his services welcoming and non-denominational, and threw himself into organizing his little community.

As Marie had predicted, the ladies of the community had quickly broken down into two cliques. Those with ‘the company’ and those with their teams and partners. To all of this the young Reverend Davies appeared to be happily oblivious as he set about arranging a ladies’ circle on Sunday afternoons, and (with far less success) a male voice choir on Saturdays.

“I would have thought that enough good Welsh blood made it across the ocean for a few of the chaps to be interested even.” He bemoaned after yet another Saturday passed with no one rushing to sign up for the glorious experience of singing ‘Cwn Rhondda’ or ‘Pantyfedwen’ in the original Welsh.
More than a few of the ladies struggled hard to keep a straight face when the Reverend had put up his posters. In the end one of the older wives took pity, and led him to one side to explain some of the differences between American and British English, and Welsh. The posters came down pretty fast after that.

Within a few weeks Cassandra quickly realized that those Sunday afternoons were far more than just a pleasant way to relax and meet people outside of the house; they were a crucial part of her education.

Cassandra was debating whether to wear her silver pendant earrings or the simple studs when a shout came down the hall. “Cookie! Have you seen my blue shirt?”

Thankfully Wayne was her escort this morning. At least he realized that jeans and a tee were not going to cut it in this church. ’Hm… better go with the studs. The pendants would make it look like she was trying too hard.’

“Have you looked in the right side of your wardrobe?” She called out through her open door.

“I looked… oh, yeah got it, thanks.”

Cassandra gave herself another careful check. ‘Yep, smart, but not too dressy. Respectable without trying to look too old.’ Her hand hovered over the perfume that Paris had insisted suited her perfectly. ‘Um, maybe not. Might look as if she was after Reverend Davies. The ‘witches of admin’ would be sure to make some comment’. With a final glance at the mirror. Cassie stood, smoothed her dress, then carefully made her way downstairs.

Moments later a series of clattering thumps announced Wayne was finally ready. Cassie quickly scanned her escort. Boots? Clean and polished. Trousers? Pressed Chinos. Top? Long sleeve shirt, pressed. Freshly shaved, showered and tidy. Good! Cassie scooped up her purse and passed the box of cookies for after the service over with a smile of approval. “Shall we go?”

Lesson One. When women got together everything was judged. What she wore, what her escort wore. Was she smart enough? Was it too showy? Did she fit in? Was she trying too hard? Everything from the state and color of her nails to the height of her heels was seen, noted, considered, discussed and measured against some unknown scoring system that seemed to change depending on the judge, the audience, the time of day and the weather. If Cassandra had let it, she would have been a frazzled wreck before even stepping out of the door.

At the church Wayne held the door for her. She slipped inside with a brief smile of thanks for his gallantry, before scanning the congregation; just as a dozen pairs of eyes flicked over her. There, Marie, with her husband Doug, offered a warm smile of welcome. There, Cindy from Administration allowed the briefest twitch of her lips to indicate Cassie’s appearance was acceptable. Over there, Mrs. Dubock was busy talking to Shawna from house thirty seven, but her eyes crinkled as she nodded politely.

This was Lesson Two. Cassandra had never realized just how much could, and was, communicated without a single word being spoken. Equally, the change of inflection for even a single word could change a kindly comment into a damning insult. When Marsha from Finance said ‘That dress suits you.’ about a pretty floral frock Cassie had found in Macey’s, was she complimenting Cassie? Or suggesting that the dress made her look too tarty?

Cassandra had been plunged headlong into that ruthless battlefield where an eyebrow, or a lilt in the speech could be deadly weapons; just as a carefully graded smile could be the most effective shield. Her only strategy was to seek allies. So, after dropping off the cookie box at the back of the church she quickly made her way over to Marie and Doug, introduced Wayne to both, then took her usual seat at Marie’s side.

After the service everyone gathered round to chat briefly with their friends, arranging later get togethers, or spending a few moments greeting friends they hadn’t had a chance to speak to earlier; before returning home to finish preparing lunch.

“So what are you cooking for your herd today Cassie? Another of your fancy foreign specialities?” Marie teased. Rumors about Cassie’s cooking had percolated through the workforce after more than a few of the guys had seen the lunches she prepared for her team.

Cassie laughed. “Nothing fancy today! They’ve got a hankering for a traditional chicken roast dinner, rubbed with lemon and garlic. I need to get on and check the roast, but I’ll be back by two for our meeting.”

“Don’t forget to clean off your nails. Suzie is looking for models and her nail art is something special.” Marie advised.

“I’m looking forwards to it.” She grinned. Then, with a wave, Cassie and Wayne started to stroll back to the house. Cassie was enjoying the late fall sunshine as they walked side by side when Wayne posed her a question.

“Um, Cookie?”

“What’s up Wayne?”

“All this uber girly stuff? Are you really into it? I mean, in the house, you’re like jeans, sneakers and a top. But they’re going on about fancy nails an’ all.”

Cassie thought about it for a moment. “I guess it’s not so much about the girly stuff, although sometimes it can be quite interesting. It’s more… like an excuse to get together.” She chewed on her lip, trying to think of a way to explain it. “It’s a bit like a bunch of guys going to the bar to shoot pool. Playing pool is a bit of fun even if you’re no good, but it’s more about getting together. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, when you put it like that. I get it.”

“And just like the bar, some of the girls who turn up are complete b..witches.”

~o~O~o~

Sunday lunch vanished from the table with its usual speed. The glass of wine leaving the guys relaxed and looking forwards to an afternoon sprawled in front of the TV, or following their own hobbies and interests. All of them taking the opportunity for some proper downtime before Monday and heading back into the grinding routine of the complex.

Once everything was cleaned up and cleared away Cassie took the opportunity to check her email. As always there was a long note from Kath. Cassie could almost hear her little sister chortling as she told what had happened to Deputy Rheinhart. Aunt Megan had not only got in touch with her lawyer. She had also spoken to LAPD, who were not at all impressed with the behavior of their colleague from the Sheriff’s office. The DA in particular was not going to let the ‘blue wall of silence’ cover this one up and he was going after Rheinhart with a vengeance. On the down side, representatives from Dad’s lawyers had shown up asking questions about Aunt Megan’s health and whether she was fit enough to be granted custody, and why she hadn’t been able to keep Carl under control rather than letting him run off.

‘They just won’t stop asking questions Three-Ess. Even though they’re all in Jail, Dad seems to think he will get out and everything will be the same as before. He wrote me a letter saying how sorry he was, but kept on about us running off as if it was all our fault. Anyway, love you loads and loads, and so does Aunty Meg. Your best, wonderful, brilliant little Sis.’

Cassie sniffed back a happy tear as she read the email. She knew that Kath had deliberately not explained ‘Three-Ess’ to tease her. Cassie decided she’d have to come up with her own new nickname for Kath.

Then she glanced at her alarm. Oops! She was running late for the meeting. Cassie grabbed her bottle of acetone and started scrubbing furiously at her nails.

The sweltering dry heat of late Summer and Fall started to slip away as the year turned and the little community in the hills of Eastern Oregon settled into a steady routine. Despite Cassie’s planning, Thanksgiving crept up on her almost before she was ready. Marie and Mrs. Dubock had persuaded the rest of their circle to hold a shared Thanksgiving dinner for all their teams together. Bob Jones and the Reverend Davies were invited, despite the little Welshman being somewhat bemused by this very American tradition, while fifty men descended on the church and hall to raid it for chairs and tables.

The day before the holiday, house twenty two had been redolent with the smells of baking. Pumpkin pies, Pecan pies and Apple pies. They’d all flowed from Cassie’s oven, leaving her team drooling and frustrated as they saw and smelt a succession of succulent glazed and decorated treats appear and vanish, with strict injunctions about sneaking into the kitchen.

Finally the holiday arrived, and after Cassandra had fed her team breakfast she led the first work party over to the church hall burdened down with supplies. With so many willing hands working under the sharp eye and firm direction of Mrs. Dubock, everything was soon ready. In one of the brief pauses Mrs. Dubock had allowed, Tony Rossetti and Malik Franco had sidled over to Cassie as she set out the dessert table.

“Cookie, we’ll never call you a brutal slave driver ever again.” Malik sighed as he once again tried his puppy dog eyes on her.

“Yeah, at least you don’t threaten us with a wooden spoon just for offering to test the rolls. She’s worse than my Mom!” Tony was indignant.

Cassie just grinned, reached back, and handed over a couple of cranberry and brie loaded potato skins from the little warmer that had been set up behind her for just this purpose. Mrs. Dubock might have been strict, but she also knew exactly how to keep the combined hordes of menfolk from getting underfoot until she was ready.

That evening Cassandra fell into bed with a happy sigh. Having dinner with her team, listening to the boisterous calls and conversation all around, had filled her with a quiet joy. Bob Jones had joined them for a slice of pie and demanded the recipe to send home to his mother. Reverend Davies, despite being Welsh, had offered a wonderful and appropriate grace in his lilting musical voice that left even the rowdiest team members quiet and thoughtful. Everyone had eaten their fill and then some, and after the clean-up everyone had stayed and mingled happily until the shadows began to lengthen.

Cassandra tried to decide what had made the day so special for her. She thought back to what she had said to Michael at the start of the contract. What was it? Something about ‘Little House on the Prairie’? It was like they were pioneers again, out in the middle of the wilderness, with only their family and community around to support them, and depending on their support. Yes. This was her family, her community, and she was content that she belonged.

With the start of December everyone’s thoughts turned to the two week Christmas break. Cassie had already arranged presents to go to Kath, Aunt Megan, Paris and Cheryl, and had her first argument with Michael.

“I’m supposed to be looking after you. I going to stay here.”

Cassie was exasperated. “Michael! Your parents and Charlie are expecting you. It’s not fair to them for you to just not show up. And don’t you think they might get a bit suspicious if you are only a couple of days drive away when you have two weeks off, and just not show? Maybe they might decide to come see why you didn’t come home?”

“But you’ll be here on your own!”

Cassie snorted. “Alone with Malik, Josh, Eric, Brandon and Norman to look out for me here, as they’ve not got any family to visit, or can’t afford to. And Marie and Doug will be a hundred yards away. Don’t you trust them?”

“Well yeah, but I promised…”

“You promised you’d protect me, and you’ve done exactly that. This is the safest place I could be and it’s all down to you Michael.” Cassie softened her voice. “Now go and keep your promises to your folks, if only for my sake. The very fact you’re there will help throw anyone still looking for me from thinking that I’m with you. So you’ll be protecting me by seeing your folks.”

Eventually he reluctantly agreed. But Cassie noticed that he took Josh, Eric and Malik to one side for a long talk before he left for LA.

Christmas itself was quiet. Cassie had invited Marie and Doug to join them as all their own team was away, so it was just the eight of them who would sit down to dinner. Cassie had spent some of her own money buying decorations and baubles for the house, while Brandon had got a small tree, which the guys had fun decorating on Christmas Eve. There was no midnight service, so she marshalled her troops the next morning before leading them over to meet Marie and Doug and heading for the church.

Cassandra felt a sharp pang as she did so, remembering how Mom had done the same. She offered a silent prayer that Mom would understand now, and be happy for her, as she cuffed a tear away during the service. Then she was too busy for tears, as Marie and she finished preparing dinner, then sat down to eat with her family.

When the credits rolled on ‘Miracle on 34th Street’ Cassie yawned.

“I’m going to bed guys. Night night.” She slithered from the couch and headed to the kitchen to drop her hot chocolate mug off. Only to find Eric loitering by the door as she returned.

“Uh Cookie. I thought you might like this?” He diffidently held out an oddly shaped package towards her.

Intrigued, Cassie took the gift and carefully unwrapped the paper. Inside was a little wooden kitten, stained a soft amber, varnished and polished smooth. One paw was stretching out as if just waking.

Cassie was spellbound as she caressed the little figure. “Eric. You didn’t… She’s beautiful.” A tear prickled at her eye. “You’ve made it perfect. Thank you.” Then, without thinking, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
It was the perfect end to a perfect day.