Cassie's Hope (Riders Up) (24 page)

“Enough of this!”
Clint declared. “You don’t understand. It’s a matter of honor. Let’s get the
kids packed.”

“We don’t want to
go,” Lester said tearfully. He and his sister had been listening to the loud
voices from the other side of the adjoining bedroom door and now they stood in
the open doorway.

Sammy ran toward
Clint and threw her arms around his legs. “Don’t make us go away. Ms. Cassie is
a good woman. She wouldn’t hurt you, Daddy. She gives warm hugs.”

Clint knelt on one
knee, holding a child in each arm. He didn’t like seeing their tears, but they
were young. “I’m sorry, kids,” he said, more gruffly than he intended. “I
wouldn’t have brought you out here if I’d known this was going to happen. You’re
too young to understand. Someday maybe I can do a better job of helping you
with that. But now you’ll have to trust me. It’s best that you go back home to Grandmother.
Your aunt will see that you get there safely. I’ll be home just as soon as I
can.”

“But…” both
children protested.

“No, there will be
no debating this,” Clint said firmly, standing abruptly. “Now run along. There’s
a lot to be done to get you on one of the afternoon flights.”

Clint walked toward
the bathroom trying to ignore the sobs coming from his children, who threw
stuff into their duffel bags haphazardly. He also worked at avoiding the frigid
stare of his sister. Why didn’t anyone understand what he was going through?

The woman with whom
he’d hoped to live out his life couldn’t trust him—she’d played him for a fool.
And now his own family was turning against him.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

After a half eaten
supper, Cassie sat down to write in her journal. Her life was in such a turmoil
she didn’t know which problem to try to solve first. Daisy had been on her mind
ever since she’d left the care facility. The young girl had a rough road ahead
of her, but with proper support, she would make it.

The youngster had
demonstrated resilience and courage over and over again. Would the court let
her stay at the group home? The cost of services there was much more expensive
than in a foster home. Cassie hoped she could stay long enough for them to
develop a good transition plan. Daisy would need some help, probably a lot of
help.

While she’d been
feeding the horses before supper, a wild question had popped in her mind.
If
I wasn’t working at the group home, would I apply to be foster parent for
Daisy? It would only be a two year commitment or so.
Cassie remembered
laughing at that thought. If she became the girl’s foster mother, it would be a
lifelong commitment, and she knew it.

The idea niggled at
her. She scribbled in her journal.

Apartment.
She quickly put a
line through that. Her Chicago apartment was almost too small for one person,
let alone two.

McHenry farm.
Yes, she could
imagine living there, particularly if she didn’t have to commute into the city
every day. And there were plenty of social work jobs out in this area, too.

Utah.

Utah! “My goodness,”
Cassie gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. She hadn’t thought much of Clint
in the midst of Daisy’s crisis.

She recalled Ashton’s
words,
What are you running from?
Had she been running from commitment? And
yet here she was, considering at least the remote possibility of turning her
life upside down for a girl who had little hope. If she could even fantasize
about taking Daisy into her life, why not Sammy and Lester?

God, there was so
much to resolve. Was she really a woman of courage? Was Clint really the right
man? She knew the answer to that:
yes!

What about motherhood?
She wasn’t her mother. She knew that now. There was no genetic rule saying she
had to repeat her mother’s mistakes.

The image of Daisy
lying unconscious in the rain fixed in her mind. She never wanted anything
remotely like that to happen to Lester or Sammy. They wanted and needed the
same thing Daisy did—a place where people cared for one another. She needed
that, herself.

Cassie thought back
to her work with a yearling in the round pen earlier in the week and a sudden
insight hit her. To train a horse, you had to have some basic knowledge, but
the good trainer listened and responded to the animal with her heart. The same
could be said for raising children. She knew the basics. But more importantly,
she already responded to Lester and Sammy with her heart. She would never be
their mother, but she could be a very good step-mom.

Tears formed in
Cassie’s eyes and her fingers cramped from gripping the pen so hard. Why had it
taken her so long to see what apparently so many others had seen for some time?
She loved him with her total being. And she loved his children. They could make
a future together. They
had
to.

She reached for the
phone and then saw how late it was. She would sleep on her discovery and tell
Clint in person at breakfast.

Although she was
exhausted, Cassie’s mind continued to whirl, keeping sleep at bay. The night
seemed long already, and it wasn’t even midnight.

As she reached for
the romance novel on her bed stand, Cassie heard a vehicle winding its way down
the driveway. Was something wrong at the track? Had Daisy had another crisis? In
either case, someone would have called. Then she recognized Clint’s truck and a
thrill pulsed through her body. Already, she could feel dampness between her
inner thighs.

Rushing to the
door, she held it open and watched Clint climb the stairs two at a time. “Welcome,
my midnight lover. Am I ever pleased to see you,” she sang out in what she
hoped was her most sultry voice.

Without speaking a
word, Clint brushed by her outstretched arms, stepped to the center of room,
turned, and glowered at her. His dark eyes were colder than ice. His nostrils
flared. His tightly compressed lips contained no evidence of love. His hands
flexed in and out of balled fists.

Cassie closed the
door, involuntarily pressing her backside against it. “You look terrible. What’s
wrong?” she squeaked, aware of the trace of fear in her voice.

He said nothing.

“Let me hold you,”
she offered, breaking the heavy silence and stepping toward him.

She backed up
immediately when his arms flew out to keep her at a distance. Her own anger
began to flicker. “If you’re not going to tell me what’s wrong, how am I
supposed to help?”

“You, help? That’s
a cruel joke.”

The silence was
deafening, but Cassie waited.

“So,” he said tightly,
“you’ve got it all figured out. You think I’m the man behind drugging the
filly.”

“What?” Cassie’s
hands clenched together, grinding at the terrible growing knot in her stomach. “That’s
silly. I’d never believe that. Who told you that?”

“Your father believes
he had to dissuade you from that possibility.” Clint’s voice was flat and
emotionless. “Another man—Harrington—appears to have more influence over you
than good sense.”

“That’s not true,”
Cassie protested, finding her voice at last. A cold dread seeped through her
pores. She could see their future, or their lack of one, written so plainly on
his face, hear it in his voice.

“Don’t lie to me.”
He took a step forward.

She could feel the hard
steel of his anger. And she began to catch a glimmer of his overwhelming sense
of betrayal.

Be calm
, she told herself.
Let the anger wash over you. He doesn’t mean to hurt you.
“It’s true
that Harrington was suspicious about you, but I told him that was nonsense.”

“Your dad didn’t
seem to hear it that way.”

Would he believe anything
she said? He’d already called her a liar. “Dad and I were sharing hypotheses. I
told him what Ed said. That’s all.” Trying to break the tension, Cassie eased
from under his stare to sit in a chair next to the bed. Her legs were shaking
so hard she had to sit down, no matter how he might interpret her behavior.

“And I was a
hypothesis?”

“There was a kernel
of a possibility that you wanted me so much you could do something that
devious,” she said softly, trying not to provoke him further, but desperately
wanting him to understand the quandary she’d been in. He’d gone back to Utah,
Hope had lost again, and she’d been in despair over Hope and her father’s
dream.

Looking back, she
knew she’d been more than a little vulnerable to Harrington’s suggestions. But Clint’s
reaction was going beyond the pale.

“That dastardly,
don’t you mean?” He stepped to her chair, leaned over, and lifted her chin. “I
don’t need a woman, any woman, bad enough to drug a horse.”

He stepped back
quickly, as if he’d touched a hot stove. “Lady, I don’t know what game you’ve
been playing with me, but it’s over. I thought whatever else happened, we
trusted each other, had something we could build on. I see I’ve been sorely
mistaken.”

“So…it’s over,”
Cassie said cautiously.

“That’s what you
wanted all along, isn’t it?” His steely gaze froze her in place. “You’ve wanted
out of this relationship all along, and didn’t have the guts to say so.”

“That’s not true.”
How many times could she say that? Had he heard anything she said?

“What about the
kids? Do I at least get to say goodbye to them? Or am I to be placed in a
dungeon, to recite my litany of sins?” Surprisingly emotionally intact, Cassie
folded her hands and held them politely in her lap.

“The kids are back
in Utah by now,” he said with an air of smugness. “They left this afternoon. They
didn’t need to say goodbye.”

“You bastard!”
Cassie leapt off the chair. “You go out of your way so I can get close to your
family, and then you just pull the rug out from everyone.”

She faced him
squarely. “What are you doing here, Mr. Travers? Why aren’t you back in Utah? Did
you enjoy pulling legs off of insects when you were a kid? I don’t need this shit!”

 Pushing up the
sleeves of her Bears shirt, she said coldly, “And I’m not going to take it from
you, or anyone else. You can get out of here right now and out of my life
forever. Thank you very much.” Cassie marched toward the door and swung it open
wide.

“Not quite yet, but
not soon enough, you can be assured,” Clint retorted. “There’s some unfinished
business. I won’t leave until I clear my name. There will be two video cameras
on your horse Saturday. I’ll be operating one of them.”

“I don’t need your
help, goddammit!” Cassie stood her ground, still holding the door wide open. “I
want you out of my life, now.”

“It’s not lady’s
choice this time,” Clint said evenly, his eyelids narrowing to slits. “Believe
me, I’m not doing this to help you. I’m doing it to regain my honor.”

“Honor. That’s
about the dumbest thing I’ve heard yet.” Cassie rolled her eyes skyward. “I can
assure you, you’ve really handled this whole fiasco in a most honorable way.”

Clint stepped over
the threshold. “You probably don’t know much about honor, but it’s something
very important to me. I’ll be there on Saturday. You can count on that.”

He reached for the
door. “Better watch out, lady. If you’re drugging your own horse, the cameras
won’t lie.” He closed the door behind him.

Cassie’s book
crashed against the wood frame.

Too devastated and
resentful to cry, Cassie lay on her bed trying to feel something positive about
the man who had just stormed out of the loft. No such feelings came.

How could he think
she believed he was trying to bring her down—and why wouldn’t he listen? She
understood part of his sense of betrayal, but his anger went far beyond that.

What about honor? She’d
honored him more than any man. She’d honored him with her body. She’d honored
him with her love. She’d honored him with her trust. But he didn’t see it that
way. And then her tears began to flow.

He’d been so quick
to judge, giving her no chance to explain. And he’d sent the kids away, as if
she were some kind of demon. Now she’d never be able to hold those children and
watch them grow.

The bed was covered
with tissues before Cassie resolved to get on top of things. If he wanted to be
so damn stubborn, fine. They’d catch the culprit who’d been drugging Hope and
go their separate ways. That was the way he wanted it. That was the way she
wanted it.

She’d been getting
along quite fine before she’d ever met the damn cowboy. She would simply go
back to where things were before she met him.

She threw two
pillows across the bedroom as she flashed on Clint’s parting accusation—that
she might be drugging Hope herself. “The nerve of that stupid, stubborn son of
a bitch who thinks he’s so damn honorable. We’ll see about honor. The Irish
know something about honor, too. We don’t confuse it with spiteful pride.”

Feeling like some
sort of zombie, Cassie went through the motions the next morning of supervising
her horses’ exercise at the track and then at the farm. She tried to stay busy.
She tried to keep her mind from functioning.

At ten o’clock, the
barn phone rang, intruding on her desire to be alone. Never knowing if there
was a problem with a horse at the track or with Daisy, she had no choice but to
answer.

Could it be that he
was calling to apologize? “Fat chance of that happening,” she muttered, making
her way down the barn aisle toward the phone in the tack room.

“Hello,” she
mumbled into the receiver, slumping against the small desk.

“Is that you,
Cassie?”

The feminine voice
slowly penetrated Cassie’s fog.

“Yeah, it’s me,”
she sighed.

“What’s wrong?”
Traci Steele asked. “You sound like you shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“Just not a good
day,” Cassie said, not wanting to disclose the real cause of her depression. “How
are you?”

“Don’t try to
change the subject,” chastised the voice on the other end of the line. “We’ve
been buds for too long. Something bad has happened. It’s not your father?”

“No.”

“Did you have an
argument with Clint?”

Silence filled the
airwaves.

“That’s it! Isn’t
it? Tell me, Cass.”

“It’s over,” Cassie
said. “He thinks I believe he’s the one behind drugging Hope. I couldn’t change
his mind. He stormed out of here late last night.”