Finding Home (24 page)

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Authors: Lois Greiman

BOOK: Finding Home
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He shuffled his booted feet. “Toby asked me to drop in.”
“Toby?” Emily said.
“What does
he
want?” Casie asked. Even the killer buyer's name put her back up.
“Don't get your knickers in a twist,” Colt said. The bruising had just about vanished from his cheek and the swelling in his fingers had diminished considerably. “He just wanted me to bring some grain by.”
“Aren't you supposed to rest that arm?” Emily asked.
“This?” he asked, lifting the cast. “Nah. This thing's just here to help me out. I can use it as a hammer. Or a wedge.” He made a prying motion and winced a little. “It's very handy,” he said and grinned at his own pun. “Besides, Toby loaded the grain.”
“I can pay for my own grain,” Casie said.
“Now don't go mounting your high horse,” Colt said. “He just wants to help out.”
Casie snorted and strode off toward the house. The others fell in step.
“Who's Toby?” Emily asked.
“Toby Leach. They were his horses before Head Case took them in. Hey . . .” Colt said as if just visited by a new brainstorm. “I could probably find you a couple more if you've got space.”
“Not likely,” Sophie said. “We're reserving the bathtub for the ducklings.”
“What?” Colton asked, but Emily shook her head.
“Now that Sophie's learned to smile, she's testing her sense of humor. Ignore her,” she said. “Can you stay for breakfast?”
“It's breakfast time?” Colt asked. “I hardly noticed. It's not like I ever hardly remember that strudel.” He gazed dreamily off into the distance for a moment. “You didn't make that strudel again, did you, Em?”
“I was going to try omelets.”
“With bacon?”
“And homemade hash browns.”
“Well, I don't know,” he said. “I was planning on having Cheerios with half-sour milk and stale toast.”
“Why don't you and Case go in and wash up,” Emily said. “The three of us can unload your grain.”
“It's not
my
grain,” Colton said quickly. “It's Toby's.”
“Sure,” Emily said, but there was something in her voice that tipped Casie's head toward her. She scowled, then turned the expression on Colton.
“It
is
from Mr. Leach, right?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said.
“And the hay you brought—”
“It was his,” he assured her.
Casie studied his face. It was absolutely solemn. And that was what made her wonder. Richard Colton Dickenson was never absolutely solemn.
“Why would he donate feed to horses he intended for the kill pens?” Sophie asked.
An excellent question.
“He can't have them back,” Sophie said. There was vehemence in her tone, the snarl of a tigress.
Colton raised his brows at her. “He doesn't want them back.”
“How do you know? Maybe he just wants us to fatten them up so he can get more per pound.”
“He doesn't . . .”
“Where does he live?”
“What?”
“Where does he live?” Sophie repeated. “I want to go talk to him. Ask him why he's handing out feed if he doesn't want anything in return.”
Colton turned his gaze to Casie, and in that second, she saw a glimpse of the truth. She scowled, unsure, not quite believing that he would spend his own money on horses she was starting to care for. But Sophie was right . . . why would Leach feed horses he'd intended to send to slaughter?
“Listen,” Colton said, and suddenly his voice had gone dead serious, his eyes as dark as night, but just then another car pulled into the drive.
They glanced toward the yard. Bradley's Pontiac rolled down the lane and parked just a few yards away.
He stepped out of the car and glanced toward them. His gaze lingered on Colt for just a moment before he strode purposefully across the yard. They watched him come.
“Bradley,” Casie said. Nerves and uncertainty all but drowned her. “This is . . .” she began, but suddenly he was on his knees.
“Marry me,” he said.
“Wh—” She tried to step back a pace, stunned by the theatrics, but he had already captured her hands.
“I'm a fool, and I don't deserve you, but I love you, Cassandra Carmichael. Marry me.”
“I thought you said you were already engaged to be—” Emily began, but he interrupted without sparing her a glance.
“Today,” he said. “Marry me today.”
C
HAPTER
24
C
asie stared down at Bradley, stricken by a dozen clattering emotions, a hundred clambering misgivings. “What?”
“I shouldn't have left last night. I'm sorry I did.”
“Bradley . . .” She glanced at the faces around her. Colton looked grim, Sophie shocked, Emily distressed. “Can't we talk about this another time?”
“Why? So we can be sensible?” He laughed. “I've been sensible long enough, Cass. I'm ready to do something rash. Something crazy. I found a justice of the peace.”
“You . . . What?”
He grinned. She had almost forgotten how charming he could be, how persuasive. “He's free this afternoon. We can be married here at the ranch.”
“We can't . . .” She ran out of words. “Brad, I need time to . . .”
“To what?” He rose rapidly to his feet. “You love me, right? I haven't ruined that, have I?” His eyes were pleading. “Please tell me I haven't.”
She moved her lips.
“Cass . . .” He drew her close, stared into her eyes. His were bright and intense. “Tell me I haven't thrown away the best thing in my life.”
She shook her head. “No.” Her cheeks were burning, and she was tempted to glance to the side to see the others' expressions, but she kept her gaze where it was. Holy Hannah. He must truly love her if he was willing to set aside his fierce practicality and make a public spectacle of himself. “Of course not. But I just . . .” She breathed a laugh. “I can't get married today.”
“But I thought that's what you wanted.”
“No.”
“Then what do you want, sweetheart?” His hands felt warm and large as they engulfed hers. “I'll give you anything. The sun. The moon. The starlit night.”
She sensed Emily shuffling her feet. “The starlit night?” she murmured, but Bradley ignored her.
“And I won't be that stodgy old bastard anymore if that's not what you want.”
“You're not . . .”
He cupped her cheek with his palm. “Tell me I haven't ruined everything.”
“No . . .”
“And you'll still marry me.”
She shrugged, desperately wishing she could seep into the soil like fresh-melted snow. “Sure,” she said. He laughed.
“Not exactly the impassioned declaration of love I was hoping for. But I'll take what I can get. Come away with me.”
She felt as if her head were spinning in circles. “What? Where?”
“Just for a few hours. Surely your help can handle things that long without you.” He glanced at Colton. “You understand, don't you, buddy?” he asked and winked.
“He can't . . .” Casie paused, stricken. “He's not . . . my help.”
“Oh, I'm sorry,” he said and grinned a little as he turned and stuck out his hand. “Bradley Hooper. I'm the fiancé, but you probably already figured that out.” He chuckled again. “And you are . . . ?”
For a moment Dickenson stood perfectly still and then he stepped forward so they could shake. “Colton,” he said. “Colton Dickenson.”
“Nice to meet you,” Bradley said. “Sorry I called you the help.”
“No problem.”
“But you've got that cowboy look about you.”
“Sure.”
“So hey . . .” He shrugged. “Would you mind helping out around here for a few hours? I'm a doctor and I've gotta get back to the city, but I'd sure like a couple hours with my girl.” He gave Colt a man-to-man glance that spoke of masculine secrets. “You understand, don't you?”
There was another momentary silence, then, “I think I do,” he said.
“Good. Great. Well . . .” he said, and tucking Casie's hand under his arm, steered her toward his car.
She went like an automaton. He opened the passenger door. She folded herself inside, barely able to do so much as glance at the trio she'd left behind. They were staring at her as if she'd just blasted off in a rocket ship.
Brad turned the key, gave them a cheery wave, and drove out of the yard.
The silence was completely unbroken for several minutes.
“You're mad at me,” he said finally.
She blinked. “No, Brad, I just—”
“I know. You hate surprises. You hate drama and emotion and hype.”
“So do you.”
“I know,” he said. “But I love
you
.” He put his hand on her knee. “And when I left here I thought . . .” He shook his head. “Cass, that was the longest night of my life. I should never have walked out without talking things through, and I realized . . . I realized that if I lost you . . .” He tightened his left hand on the steering wheel. “It would all be a waste. All the work. All the education. Everything. It'd be worthless.”
“So you . . .” She searched for words, trying to catch up, but the memories of the previous night pushed their way in. “I was worried.”
“About what?”
“That you . . .” The thought of her paranoia seemed ridiculous after his heartfelt speech. “That you were with someone else.”
“Someone else? Are you kidding? Like who?”
She glanced out the window and let the old agony roam free. “It's not as if it hasn't happened before.”
His brows dipped. “Are you going to throw that in my face again? Now? When I'm professing my undying love for you?”
“I appreciate . . .”
“When I have a justice of the peace waiting to pledge our lives together?”
“You actually visited a justice of the peace?”
“Do you think I'm lying? Because if that's the case, I'll turn this car around right now and walk out of your life forever.”
A dozen muted memories unfurled in her mind. Ty's careful hand on the old mare's scrawny neck. Colt's laughter, the feel of Tangles beneath her as he loped across the pasture.
Her
pasture.
“Cass?”
She brought herself slowly back to the present. “No,” she said. “I believe you.”
He exhaled heavily. “Thank you.” He sounded enormously relieved. “Thank you. You won't regret it.”
 
It was a beautiful day. He took her to the hotel first. He'd already checked out but he checked back in. Just before they reached the door, he lifted her into his arms and carried her across the threshold. The coverlet on the queen-sized bed felt starchy against her back.
Their lovemaking wasn't rushed like she remembered it. He took time, kissing her, stroking her.
Afterward, he ordered room service and fed her breakfast in bed. The waffles were a little cold and lacked that extra something Emily was able to imbue into her inventive recipes, but Brad was attentive and witty.
By the time their tires crunched over the gravel in the Lazy's front yard, Casie felt relaxed and a little surreal.
“Happy?” he asked.
She nodded and he leaned across the car seat to kiss her. “Want to go back into town and tie the knot?”
She was almost tempted to delay reality a little longer. This was the man she'd fallen in love with. The handsome, persuasive man who knew what he wanted and would go after it. “I can't,” she said.
“Okay. But I can't wait much longer for you to become Mrs. Hooper.” He kissed her again. “And not in name only.”
“What do you mean?” She wondered vaguely if the girls were in the house watching them. She wondered if Colt had gone home.
“I mean . . .” He gazed into her eyes. “I know what this place means to you, honey. My parents' house holds memories, too, but I need you by my side.”
“I know. I want that, too, but—”
“You're my rock, Cass. Sell this place and come live with me.”
“I will. I just need a little more time.”
“Okay,” he said and kissed her again. “But don't make me wait much longer. Promise?”
“I promise,” she said.
He smiled, then sighed. The sun was setting. “I'm afraid I have to get back.”
“You can't stay until morning?”
“I'll have to drive all night as it is. I have to get back for rounds . . . and I have to pay the rent before we're evicted.”
“The rent!” she said, guilt rushing in on her. “I completely forgot about it.”
He looked chagrined. “I hate to bring it up after such a perfect day.”
“No. Don't be silly. It's my place, too.” Not thirty feet away the Lazy's ancient windows watched her like disapproving eyes. “Sophie's dad paid me,” she said. “I'll write out a check right now.”
“I'll make it up to you,” he said and kissed her again.
Their breathing got heavy. She sighed as she slipped her hand behind his neck.
But he drew back finally. “I've got to run,” he said.
“Right,” she agreed and stepped outside.
“Cass,” he said, leaning toward the passenger seat to speak to her through the open door. “Maybe you could pay for next month right away, too.”

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