Love Me Tender (10 page)

“Sounds like a great trip. Did you see the Museum of Natural History? I love it.”

“Yeah, it was totally cool.”

As he listened to the two of them compare notes, Dave watched the dog romp in the water. He and Merlin were perfectly happy here. He'd thought Robin was too. But Evan had broadened her horizons. Jessie's as well. Dave was confident that Caribou Crossing would always be home for his horse-addicted daughter and ex. Yet Evan had given the two females something that Dave hadn't even realized they might want.

Life had been so much easier before Evan came back to Caribou Crossing. Dave sure didn't begrudge Jessie reuniting with the boy who'd been her first love, her true love. Yet it was hard seeing Evan become a second dad to Robin. Her stepdad.

And her biological father.

Would they ever tell her? He, Jessie, and Evan had agreed that if they did it wouldn't be until she was older. If they did, would she feel betrayed or take it with her usual equanimity?

Now Robin was urging Cassidy to talk about some of her other travels. The colored fairy lights of Santorini at night. The freaky toilets she'd run into in different places. The weird foods people ate. It seemed she'd taken it all in stride, embracing every new adventure.

Dave felt stodgy. But hell, there was nothing wrong with living in one place all your life if that place resonated deep in your bones. If your family lived there. If you'd built, with your own blood, sweat, and tears, a business you loved. Robin had asked Cassidy how long she stayed in one place and she'd said usually a few months.

He and Cassidy were polar opposites. Anita, now she'd been like him. She believed in history, roots, in commitment to people and places.

He caught himself, waited for the thundercloud of negative emotion to descend, but somehow Robin and Cassidy's happy chatter kept it at bay. So he let himself muse further.

Anita had accepted him for who he was. She hadn't teased, pushed, challenged, provoked, the way Cassidy did. There'd been no reason to. They'd fit together from the beginning as if they'd been made for each other, everything so easy and compatible. That was why, even though he was married at the time and he and Anita had both known their attraction was wrong, it had been so difficult to resist.

Cassidy's musical burble of laughter broke smack-dab into the middle of his thoughts. He glanced at her, seeing the sparkle in her eyes, the white flash of her smile. Animated, genuine, totally engaged with his daughter. This woman, too, was hard to resist.

He would never love again, and he knew Cassidy was all about the moment, about having fun. She had brightened his life, at work and in his leisure time. His female friends urged him to date, have fun, get back in the game, and Cassidy had made it clear she was into that. With him.

Oh shit, was he actually contemplating sleeping with her?

Cassidy woke slowly. The rough grass under her back reminded her she was at Colcannon Lake. She'd found herself yawning and Dave and Robin had urged her to take a nap in the shade of a cluster of aspen trees. Without opening her eyes, she lazily inventoried sensations. The air was cooler. Much as she loved the sun, these days it tended to wipe her out. The fresh scent of lake water mingled with the dry, dusty aroma of sunshine on yellowed summer grass. Distant voices laughed, occasionally shrieked. Closer at hand, father and daughter talked in low voices about how Robin had again volunteered to babysit her little brother and her gramma Brooke's baby daughter if their parents wanted to go line dancing tonight.

That was one good kid. Responsible way beyond her years, but she also knew how to have fun. Although Robin had an unusual family—the girl was babysitting her own aunt!—Cassidy, with her own unusual family, envied them their closeness.

She opened her eyes, gazing up to watch leaves dance a slow waltz. How long had she napped? Stretching to ease out the aches from sleeping on rough ground, she discovered that Merlin was flaked out beside her. When she sat up, the dog woke, jumped to his feet, and shook.

The two of them went to join Robin and Dave on their rocks.

“Hey, sleepyheads,” Robin said, hugging the dog.

“Hey.” Cassidy put her hat on to block the late afternoon sun. “I can't believe I dozed off. It's not like I've had a tough day. I slept in, then had breakfast with Ms. Haldenby, then—”

Father and daughter both interrupted, in equally disbelieving tones, “You had breakfast with Ms. Haldenby?”

Cassidy stifled a grin. “Why wouldn't I?”

The pair exchanged glances. “She scares the bejeezus out of me,” Dave admitted.

“Me too,” Robin said.

“Gee, Robin, I wonder where you got that notion?” Cassidy cocked an eyebrow at Dave.

Sheepishly, he said, “Ms. Haldenby intimidates everyone. Even Sam, and he was a cop for twenty-five years.”

Cassidy shook her head. “You all should grow up. She's a little brusque, but she's nice.”

“She's smarter than anyone else in this town,” Dave said, not making it sound like a compliment.

“Which is a blessing, not a curse. Good Lord, Dave, people say you're nicer than anyone else in this town, but it doesn't stop them from liking you.”

Robin giggled. “They don't know him as well as I do. Dad's not always nice. Like when he makes me text him anytime I go anywhere, to let him know I got there safely. And when he wouldn't let me take Concha overnight camping alone. Or go down and stay with—”

Dave cut in. “I'm only trying to make sure you're safe. But to get back to Ms. Haldenby, I've often wondered why she taught elementary school, and why she stayed in Caribou Crossing. She could've taught—oh, I don't know, physics or English literature at some big university.”

“You should ask her,” Cassidy said.

Ms. H taught children because she loved them, and it was the closest she could get to having kids of her own, Cassidy figured. The woman had been demanding of them because that was her way of caring, of helping them succeed in the world. And she'd been brusque because she couldn't let herself care too much, because they'd never be her own children. It didn't take a genius to figure all of that out, not if you spent a little time actually getting to know her.

But then that wasn't just the fault of townspeople like Dave. As with Sally Ryland, Ms. Haldenby didn't go out of her way to be all warm and friendly. Cassidy had to wonder what she'd have been like if she'd grown up in a time when being a lesbian was accepted. When she could have lived a full, genuine life with the person she loved, rather than hiding a big part of herself. Hmm. Was that why Sally was so reserved? Might she, too, be hiding a secret?

Dave rose. “Time to head home and get dinner on the go.” He paused, then said, “What would you say to chicken fajitas?” For some reason, his voice sounded strained.

“Chicken fajitas?” Robin stopped in the act of drying one foot against the opposite leg of her jeans. She cocked her head toward Dave and said tentatively, “Those were Anita's favorite.”

Cassidy stared at Dave as he said, “I know.”

“Because they rhymed with her name.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at Cassidy. “You like fajitas?”

Oh yes, he had heard what she'd said last night. And he'd taken a step forward. She beamed at him. “Love them.”

“Um,” Robin started, “Anita always marinated the chicken first.”

“I put some in marinade before I left.”

They rode to town mostly in silence, and when they talked the subject of Anita wasn't raised again. But later, when they were in the grocery store shopping for dinner ingredients, Dave asked Robin, “Do you remember which kind of tortillas Anita liked to use?”

Cassidy guessed he hadn't forgotten, but was making an opportunity to slip Anita's name into conversation, to test how he felt about it and to let Robin know it was okay to mention her.

“The corn ones,” she said. “Flour ones for wraps, corn for fajitas.”

“Right. Now I remember.” His gaze lingered on his daughter, so tender it made Cassidy's heart give a big, mushy throb.

They purchased everything they needed, then carried on to the Wild Rose.

Inside the top-floor suite, boots and socks went by the door. This was Cassidy's first visit and she glanced around curiously. Most of the furniture was the same as in the inn's guest rooms, but this was obviously a home. The horse drawings on the wall—quite skilled ones—were clearly Robin's, like the couple in Dave's office downstairs. A copy of
Hotelier
magazine, a crocheted afghan tossed across a chair, a light clutter of books and DVDs all hinted at the father and daughter's life here.

She followed them into the kitchen. Robin fed Merlin and Dave went to light the barbecue on the rooftop patio. Cassidy took the groceries out of the bags.

When Dave came back, she asked tentatively, “Can I help with dinner?” She hoped he wouldn't think she was trying to take Anita's place.

The pain in his eyes made her touch his arm in a gesture of support.

“Do you know how to make guacamole?” he asked slowly.

Excuse me? She
was
half Mexican. Still, she said, “In a general way, but if you or Robin tell me how Anita did it, then it'll be perfect.”

Robin giggled. “Remember the time you got store-bought and Anita—” She quickly clamped her mouth shut.

Dave touched her shoulder. “Yeah, she believed in making it from scratch.”

“Because we deserve the best,” Robin said, obviously parroting Anita. “Even if we have to do the hard work to make it happen.”

Dave gave Cassidy a chopping board, knife, and bowl. “Right. And speaking of hard work, did you have a busy morning at Boots, Rob?”

Cassidy figured that was a deliberate change of subject, but she gave him major points for the little exchange about Anita.

Dave set avocados, a lime, a garlic clove, and a chili pepper in front of her. That was it? That was all Anita put in guacamole? Oh well. She started peeling avocados.

Robin, busily grating cheddar, said, “It was turnover day, so I gave the horses an extra-special grooming, cleaned the tack, and spic-and-spanned the barn.”

“You pull your weight around there,” Cassidy commented.

The girl grinned. “I can't believe they pay me to do this stuff. I'd do it for free, just for the fun of it.”

Dave, chopping tomatoes and cilantro, smiled. “No one says you can't have a job that you love doing, that still pays decently. Like your mom running Boots, Evan helping his clients do financial planning, Gramma Brooke cutting people's hair and making them feel good about themselves. And of course me running the Wild Rose.” He tossed some of the chopped tomatoes and some of the cilantro into a bowl.

“I know. Cassidy, this is such a cool story. Dad fell in love with the inn when he was a kid and Grandma Sheila and Grandpa Ken took him and his brothers and sister there for ice cream sundaes.”

“From ice cream sundaes to owning it?” Cassidy said as she mashed the peeled avocado and other ingredients together. “Impressive, Dave.”

He shrugged. “The owner had trouble making a go of it and the Wild Rose got quite run-down. People started saying maybe the old girl should be torn down and a new hotel put up.”

Cassidy winced. “That wouldn't have been right. Not for Caribou Crossing.” She smiled at Dave as he added some of the tomatoes and cilantro to her guacamole.

“That's exactly what Dad thought,” Robin said. “So he saved her. You tell her, Dad.”

He was slicing purple onions and green peppers now, deft with the knife. “I was a teenager and the history of Caribou Crossing fascinated me. I even made that the theme of my valedictory speech at high school grad. I said that moving into the future should also mean respecting and preserving the past. I'm not sure that's what the other kids wanted to hear.”

“It's a good theme,” Robin defended him.

“It is,” Cassidy agreed.

Dave diced a few of the onion slices and added them to the guacamole. “Anyhow, I wanted to preserve and restore the Wild Rose. I made that my mission.” He gave Robin a quick smile. “Along with marrying Robin's mom and raising our little girl, of course. So I went to work at the poor old inn, doing whatever jobs needed to be done. Kind of like you, Cassidy, though I also fixed plumbing, mended leaks in the roof, flipped burgers. I fit in night school and correspondence courses on business administration and on running hotels. Read a ton of books. Jessie was great, never begrudging the time I spent.” He gave a fond smile. “Bless her heart, she never once said I was chasing a foolish dream.”

“It wasn't foolish, Dad!”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Anyhow, fortunately, the old owner didn't want to see the place torn down. And the bank knew my family and trusted us. My father cosigned a loan.” He raised an arm and used the back of his wrist to push back the sandy hair that flopped over his forehead. “Cassidy, you know how, when I was talking about Jessie getting Boots off the ground, I said that it took a village?”

She nodded.

“Same with me and the Wild Rose. I had Jessie and Rob, my parents and hers, a friendly bank manager, an obliging inn owner, former classmates, and other townspeople who tossed in labor and supplies. City officials and a chamber of commerce who helped out with the heritage designation and the required permits. Turned out, the old Wild Rose had a lot of friends.”

More likely, Dave Cousins did. The same as his ex-wife. Again Cassidy felt a twinge of envy. What would that be like? She had a ton of acquaintances all over the world, whom she kept up with via Facebook and e-mail, but her lifestyle precluded the kind of deep friendships where people pitched in to help you out.

“Okay,” Dave said. “I'm going to grill the chicken. Cassidy, how about you sauté the onions and peppers? Rob, you put the salsa, guacamole, and cheese in bowls and set the table.”

When he'd gone up to the roof and Cassidy was sautéing vegetables, she thought about him and his ex. He and Jess were both confident, resourceful people, yet they didn't mind accepting help. Unlike Cassidy, who felt the need to make her way in the world with complete independence. Oh, she'd happily eat Ms. H's pancakes and let Dave pay her first couple of weeks of salary in advance, but she always paid back in full measure. She mowed Ms. H's lawn and read to her when her eyes were too tired for her e-reader or the large-print books she borrowed from the library. She worked her butt off at the Wild Rose. In her head, there was a running tally so she could make sure not to be beholden to anyone. Not to rely on anyone.

In her life, Gramps had been the only person she could rely on—until he'd up and died.

A few minutes later, Dave came in with the cooked chicken, and sliced it up.

The competent way he wielded a knife was sexy. The way he moved, whether on horseback, strolling the streets, or fixing dinner, was sexy. They'd both avoided talking about last night, when she'd offered sex and he'd . . . Had he really turned her down, or just got upset when she started talking about Anita?

Today, she'd caught his gaze on her from time to time, and best as she could tell he was ambivalent. Attracted, but still worrying rather than going with the flow.

As Cassidy tipped the cooked onions and peppers into a serving bowl, Dave said, “Anita loved the Wild Rose too. We shared a love of history and historic buildings.”

And there was the thing that worried him, that held him back. His memory of, loyalty to, love for a woman who died three years ago.

He handed the dish of sliced chicken to his daughter to put on the table. “Rob, remember how you came along a couple of times when we shopped for things to restore for the inn?”

The girl nodded. “And I was bored, and I wished I'd been riding instead, and I let you both know it. I wish I hadn't been whiny to Anita.”

“Sweetheart, you were a little kid then. We should have known that browsing through old stuff would bore you.” He paused. “Anita loved you. Even when you were whiny. She so looked forward to being your stepmom.”

“Me too.” Robin's eyes were damp. “I miss her.”

“Yeah.” He gathered her in for a rough hug, and his own eyes were squeezed shut.

Cassidy felt like an intruder, yet she was happy to have helped these two reach this point.

Dave opened his eyes, released his daughter, and said briskly, “Okay, let's eat.”