Love With A Stranger (12 page)

Before Jason could ask why that mattered to her, Linda
returned and he dropped the subject. At least Cass hadn’t turned him down flat.

Jason, Cass, and Linda sat at the breakfast table to play gin rummy for the next two hours and to talk about many local, national, and world topics. Each relaxed in the genial and comfortable atmosphere.

As time passed in a sluggish yet swift pace, Cass lost many hands because her attention was distracted by Jason’s arresting looks, easy laughter, and interesting conversation. She found herself just wanting to sit there and stare at him and savor his delicious company. It was a constant struggle not to yield to those temptations. She didn’t want him to think she was coming on to him so soon after her husband’s demise. She cautioned herself over and over to behave as a lady, one he would find respectable yet desirable. If only he would stop capturing her gaze each time she looked at him as he played his hand, perhaps she could resist his pull. Then again, perhaps she was misreading his interest in her.

Jason was fighting a similar battle, though he believed he managed to conceal it. He felt charged with energy and elation. He wished Cassandra Grantham wasn’t so tantalizing and irresistible. He needed to concentrate and behave himself, but she made both difficult. Only in his dreams had she been available and responsive; now she was free for him to pursue and she seemed to like him more than as a physician. He yearned to win her heart, but it was too soon to seek it and waiting was blissful torment.

Linda was almost bubbling inside with excitement and suspense as she watched the two of them try to ignore each other and fail to do so. She could almost feel the romantic sparks passing between them and the sexual tension building within them. She suppressed her grins of pleasure and any verbal encouragement, but an eagerness to help them find their way to each other flowed through her.

At ten-thirty when he could endure the bittersweet strain no
Ionger, Jason said, “I have to go, ladies; I have early office hours.”

“Would you like to join us again tomorrow night?” The words shot from Cass’s mouth and dazed brain before she could stop herself.

Jason smiled in pleasure. “If it wouldn’t be any trouble, yes.”

Cass looked at the nurse and said, “Linda, since you’re the cook, you decide. Of course, I could help; I’m not a stranger in the kitchen, though Jason treated me after an accident there shortly after I moved to Sea Island. I still have the burn scar on my foot from that hot grease.”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea. We’ll see you about six o’clock.”

“Thanks, Linda. Is there anything I can bring?”

“No, Cass and I will throw something tempting together. She has a well-stocked pantry, freezer, and refrigerator.”

On Tuesday morning, Cass asked Linda to drive her into Brunswick for an appointment with a gynecologist. She had chosen the doctor at random and when she called yesterday was fortunate that the office had a cancelation the next day. She felt terrible about lying to Linda about going for a routine check-up, but she couldn’t relate the truth about her health fears. Nor could she go any longer without discovering if Tom had passed a disease to her.

The female gynecologist examined her and found nothing unusual, which assauged some of Cass’s fears. The physician had her nurse draw several vials of blood for the tests that Cass requested following an embarrassing explanation of the reason for wanting them done. The doctor told the rosy-cheeked widow that she could phone for the results on Friday.

Afterward, Linda drove a noticeably quiet Cass down Newcastle Street in the small pre-Revolutionary town with its mixture
of Victorian and Old South flavor, the largest small town, Linda said, on the National Registry Historic Districts of Georgia and birthplace of the famous Brunswick Stew over one hundred years ago. Its revitalization was still in progress, but the area was a thriving seaport—“Shrimp Capital of the World”—with wide streets and numerous squares, many of them featuring enormous live oaks.

Linda parked in front of the Royal Cafe, situated among stores and shops with quaint facades on mostly one- or two-story buildings in various colors. Clean sidewalks were dotted here and there with palms and old-fashioned lamp lights and poles with American flags. The large redbrick Ritz Theater, the old Grand Opera House when it was constructed in 1898 and where she had met Jason Burkman, was down the street.

Inside the small cafe with its white-clothed tables and salmon-colored walls with white woodwork, Cass and Linda were seated at the front windows where they had a nice view of Main Street, which was bustling during the lunch hour. They enjoyed their lunch of curried chicken salad with pecans, celery, and onions, piled in a pineapple boat and garnished with fresh fruit.

As Cass sipped from a “bottomless glass” of 7-UP and glanced around the restaurant, she realized that no one seemed to stare at her and perhaps didn’t recognize her from past news reports. She hoped the investigation of Tom’s accident would be finalized soon. She worried that a continued probe into their lives might result in the exposure of Tom’s philandering ways and a scandal would assail her. If only that dread and the one about the blood tests she took earlier could be resolved this week, she could get on with her life now that she was feeling better.

As the two women talked about their childhoods, school years, families, and work experiences, Linda avoided any mention of Tom or Cass’s future plans so she wouldn’t become upset and spoil their outing.

En route home, they drove along the lengthy Torras Causeway and several bridges connecting all but one of the Golden Isles to the mainland. They crossed the intercoastal waterway with a sweeping marsh view to their right and left, a vast one that extended for miles. Wading birds—ibis, egret, and heron—searched for their meals among the strong stalks in shallow water and gulls and blackbirds were abundant and often loud with their shrill calls. Marinas were filled with boats of various sizes, some with tall masts. On occasion, shrimp boats plying their trades and large vessels heading toward other ports or into Brunswick’s natural deepwater harbor were visible.

In the distance to their front and rear, the landscape was green with oaks, pines, palms, swamp holly, and other vegetation. Spanish moss draped limbs of many of those trees and bushes like lacy shawls. Spring was apparent everywhere they looked. Bees, butterflies, deerflies, and mosquitoes were sighted with frequency, as were various flowers, wild and cultivated.

After reaching the house and speaking with Inez for a while, Cass and Linda headed for the gym for Cass to do her exercises.

Later, Linda gave Cass her massage, herbal tea, and told her to rest for half an hour while listening to relaxation tapes the nurse had supplied. Cass drifted off to sleep following her exertions and medication, so Linda didn’t awaken her until five o’clock to freshen up for their company.

Jason arrived on time to examine Cass and to eat dinner with them. All three were delighted with Cass’s improvement, so he decreased her medication again.

At Linda’s suggestion, they sat at the wrought-iron table on the patio to eat their meal: barbecue chicken with cole slaw, rolls, green beans, and iced decaffeinated tea. Beyond them, the water in Cass’s near-olympic-size pool glistened in the sunlight, but their position was shaded by the tall house facing westward. Water trickled over cascading bowls in a yard fountain
located among flowers and greenery and decorative rocks and with the original spew of liquid coming from a dolphin’s mouth. Three stone statues of Greek goddesses had been placed in several areas by an imaginative landscaper, with floral beds and white rocks surrounding them. A cabana equipped with a wet bar, mini kitchen, bathroom, and sitting area was on the left side of the pool to prevent it from blocking the ocean’s view from the bottom floor of her home. To the right of the pool was the guest house where Peter lived, a luxurious residence sitting atop a double garage and totally separated by a walkway from the sprawling multi-storied mainhouse. The sixthousand-square-foot residence on a large corner lot overlooking the Atlantic Ocean was decorated for lavish entertaining, though they hadn’t had overnight guests or a party since moving there early last October.

As Cass took in the beauty of her surroundings and thought about her life with Tom in this location, she was tempted to conclude Tom had wanted her secluded there so he could come and go and do as he pleased elsewhere. Before moving to Sea Island, their life “on the road” for two years had been filled with social engagements and constant activity. Afterward, Tom had made it known he wanted their home to be a place where “they” could have peace and quiet and be away from those distractions and demands, a place where they could concentrate only on each other, where they could rest and relax. She should have been suspicious when he refused to get to know other people living nearby and didn’t want her fraternizing either during his absences or becoming involved in any community charities or organizations.

In a way, this house had become a golden prison for her, as mostly she had obeyed his requests. She hadn’t done so the night she met Jason Burkman; she had sneaked to the Ritz Theater to view a play while both Tom and Peter were out of town. She hadn’t mentioned her outing to Tom and was relieved Jason hadn’t made a slip during brief encounters with him at
the country club when she and Tom enjoyed a rare night out of the house. It was so nice having Jason and Linda there and to have Peter and Inez gone. She—

“I called earlier today, but no one answered the phone.”

Cass gathered her strayed attention to respond to Jason after his remark interrupted her line of thought, “Inez must have been outside or cleaning Peter’s place and didn’t hear the phone ring. Linda and I went into Brunswick; I had a gynecologist appointment and we stayed in town to have lunch. We had a marvelous time. She drove me around and told me some interesting things about this area.”

As Cass related them to him, Jason wondered what had preoccupied her so deeply moments earlier and why she appeared to almost chatter as if trying to conceal its troublesome effect on her. He didn’t pry, but closely observed her for clues while she spoke and ate, yet found none. Despite her physical and emotional improvements, he sensed she still had heavy burdens on her shoulders and wished she would allow him to lighten them.

Later, to help settle their meals, they took a walk on the beach. A lengthy distance from their position they saw several pairs of strollers, all heading in the other direction, guests at the Cloister Resort.

The evening was warm and pleasant, the sand soft and white, except for where it darkened from being wet every few minutes at ebbtide. A setting sun reflected its colorful glow on the water whose gentle waves sent forth soothing sounds and whitefringed edges. Sea oats with their ribbonlike leaves and spikelet heads, rock sandwort, and eelgrass swayed in the constant breeze. Sandburs and saw palmettos also dotted the low dunes and were avoided for their prickly tips and spines. A few gulls stayed within hearing range with their raucous cries. They watched sandpipers seemingly play tag with the outgoing tide, as did diminutive mole crabs who captured plankton with their
feathery antennae on incoming waves before burrowing themselves into the sand afterward to await the next roll.

As he strolled between the women, Jason remarked, “At least the sand gnats aren’t bad tonight; they prefer calmer and warmer days, but those tiny buck-toothed no-see-ums will be pestering us soon, especially on the golf course. So will those love bugs that get on everything in sight.”

“Sand gnats haven’t bothered me since I moved here,” Cass responded, “but I recall their vicious bites from past visits. They seem to love getting into one’s hair and gnawing on the scalp with razor teeth.”

“I’ve played golf when they were so bad, I smacked my head so many times and so hard that I got a headache and it was sore for days. Give me mosquitoes any time; at least repellent discourages their attacks. Not those little no-see-ums; they act like it’s an aphrodisiac and they go crazy.”

Cass and Linda laughed as Jason reflexively scratched his head as if it itched just from talking about the irritating insects.

Linda pointed out several dolphins as they swam southward as if chasing two young men who were windsurfing. “They’re such beautiful and graceful creatures. I love to watch them. They’ll even come up to you when you’re swimming and try to play with you. After their fins scared the daylights out of you thinking they might be sharks,” she added, and laughed.

Cass laughed, too, but said, “I’ve never cared for deep water, so I doubt I’ll ever have that experience. I prefer not going more than ankle deep or staying with pools. I love being at the ocean, but I hate for crabs and fish to nibble on my toes and legs or have a jellyfish sting me.”

Jason thought,
I’d love to nibble on your toes and legs and other parts, but I’d never sting you.
“Those terns fascinate me with their speed and skill. Those birds are great fishermen. Look at that one dive straight into the water, grab a fish, and take off somewhere to devour it.”

Cass watched several terns plunge into the blue surface where
large fish had driven smaller ones upward, snag their prey, and vanish from sight in the cobalt sky. She saw pelicans lined up overhead as they flew to where they would roost for the night.

“Did you know that the infamous pirate Blackbeard frequented these islands long ago? It’s rumored some of his stolen booty is still buried on them, and those tales lure many treasure hunters to seach for it. Perhaps we should don our boots and cutlasses and try to locate one of his chests.”

Cass’s gaze met Jason’s as he lowered his voice; the level and tone seemed as if he was trying to fill her with intrigue and suspense. His amusing expression caused her to smile and her body to warm and tingle. “Why not? We could all get rich and famous if we recovered one, if the government allowed us to keep it and sell it,” she quipped in return, then turned to Linda and more serious matters. “How much longer will you be working with me?” Cass asked the nurse.