Place to Belong, a Read Online Free PDF Page A

Lucas replied with that special smile he reserved for her.
    Ransom kept an eye on his brother without seeming to make the effort. Perhaps what he’d thought was infatuation really wasn’t. Had he misjudged his brother’s feelings for Cassie? Based on Lucas’s quick declarations of undying love in the past which, unsurprisingly, died after all, this was something new. As Ransom thought about it, the only woman Lucas had ever continued a relationship with was Betsy Hudson. What to do about that mess plagued them all. So when Lucas arrived back at the ranch a couple of months ago and said he’d found the woman of his dreams but he’d not met her yet, what was a brother supposed to think? Common sense had never been one of Lucas’s strong suits.
    When he’d learned that the woman of my dreams was a trick rider and shooter in Wild West shows and held a paper that said she owned half of their ranch, well, Ransom had never claimed to be anything but a common ordinary rancher—with a slow-fused temper.
    Snatches of the conversation between the two tickled his consciousness, but he had learned he was better off if he tuned them out. He could go easier on the judgmental side that way. No need for him and Lucas to get into another so-called discussion, which was really a polite name for brotherly fighting.
    Ransom finished his meal, cut himself a large slab of the leftover gingerbread, buried it in applesauce, and with a refill on the coffee, took cup and plate to his desk in a corner of the big room. He settled into his cushioned chair with a sigh. Of all his many favorite places on the ranch, this was tops. Unless he included being stretched out on the leather-cushioned couch afew steps away. His father sure did know how to make comfortable and substantial furniture.
    Ransom pulled out the drawings he’d made of a possible furniture line, based on some of the things his father had made and others he’d thought of himself. He studied the schematics. He planned on using the lumber long dried out in the barn for a couple of end tables, incorporating cottonwood branches for the legs, like his father had. That was a distinctive touch. All the pieces proclaimed western ranch design. Where would they find a market?
    Mavis stopped beside his desk. “Dreaming?”
    â€œI am. Think I’ll start with these.” He pointed at the pair of tables. “I can work on them here in the evenings.”
    â€œTrue, once you get all the pieces cut.” She glanced around the room with a smile. “Ah, the stories these walls could tell.”
    â€œWhat are you working on?”
    â€œI’ll never tell. Christmas is coming, and you know better than to ask questions.”
    He made a face. “Right, sorry.” Christmas and, as always, there was no money to buy gifts and he’d not started making anything. At the moment, he didn’t even have any ideas of what to make. He needed some time with his mother without all the others around. Lucas and Cassie laughed their way into the room, and Lucas settled into working on the buttons he made from antlers and bones to send to his buyer in Chicago. Cassie picked up the knitting needles Mavis had given her, along with the yarn, and resumed her painful progress. She seemed to be ripping out more stitches than she was putting in.
    Good thing she was a better shooter than a knitter. The thought made him smile. One had to give her credit for sheer determination and stick-to-itiveness.

    After chores the next morning, they gathered on the front porch as Lucas brought up the wagon. Usually by now they’d changed out the wheels for the sledge runners, but no snow, so no runners. Ransom helped the women into the back of the wagon, along with Dan Arnett up on the seat with him, and got everyone bundled warm with elk robes and quilts.
    â€œWhy don’t you join us?” he asked Lucas, who was mounting his saddle horse.
    â€œI have