Sutherland’s Pride (25 page)
“That’s a healthy attitude,” Merrick said. “If I thought my father was Derrick Davenport, I’d be telling the world. I couldn’t believe it when I found out you had never told Kalin, as close as you two had been.”
Casey shrugged. “Since a court of law had determined Mr. Davenport innocent of fathering me, in spite of the DNA evidence, what good would it have done to claim otherwise?”
“She has his eyes,” Clay said suddenly.
The group stared at Casey’s face, and Casey was hard-put to keep stirring without reddening. She had long ago realized that she did indeed possess Derrick Davenport’s distinctive, sparkling gray eyes framed with the same dark, curly lashes. That discovery, however, instead of making her proud, had shamed her.
“Casey’s right,” Bonnie said quickly. “What good does it do at this late date?”
Clay nodded and fingered his phone, still staring at Casey.
Merrick looked at him. “Kalin always talked about how beautiful Casey’s eyes were. He was furious when he learned who her father was.
Allegedly
was, that is.”
Casey removed her pan from the heat, extracted her cake from the oven, and flipped it expertly upside down onto a cooling rack.
“McBryde was always weird,” Clay pronounced.
Casey glanced up and smiled.
“Well, you can’t blame him,” Merrick said, in the judicious tones of one who has thought things over very carefully. “When he broke up with her, Casey made a public scene begging him not to leave her. What else could he think but that she was doing the same act her mother had? At that time, the McBrydes were wealthy, you know.” She added, “Of course, anyone who has known Casey as long as I have knows that she’s not the type to try and shame Kalin into marrying her. But it was embarrassing, all the same.”
Casey adjusted the oven temperature and unrolled a sheet of puff pastry onto a piece of waxed paper. As she worked it over with a rolling pin, a vision of the last time she’d seen Kalin McBryde arose in her mind. She had been practically on her knees, begging him just to listen to her.
Even the bare memory was a knife-like thrust to the heart. But she had known that scene would be mentioned tonight. She had performed about one thousand creative visualization exercises in order to be able to deal with it. She could handle it.
Bonnie sat up straighter and glared at Merrick. “Don’t you think you ought to change the subject? After all, it’s none of our business in the least.”
Casey turned away to search the cabinets quickly and returned with a package of dried beans. She fitted a piece of tin foil into the pastry, filled it with dried beans and ran it into the oven. Concentrating on every practiced movement helped her maintain her composure. By the time she returned to the table, Merrick sat in depressed silence while the other two enthusiastically discussed their plans for the upcoming Christmas holiday.
Casey fetched her cake from its cooling rack and picked up a long, thin knife. “Merrick, don’t you usually go skiing over the holidays?” She removed the cake from its pan.
“Not this year.” Merrick looked thankful. “I’ve got to study. If you do go to law school, you’ll find out what I mean.”
“I’m sure I will.” Casey expertly sliced the single cake into three thin layers.
Clay stared. “You’re really planning on going to law school?”
“You needn’t sound so astonished,” Casey said, tongue-in-cheek. “Merrick is one of the best salespeople a law school could have.”
“I believe in what I’m doing.” Merrick tossed back her silvery hair, seemingly unaware of the humor in Casey’s voice. “Does Kalin know you’re planning on going to law school, Casey?”
“You’ll have to be sure to mention it to him.”
“I know you’re still in touch with him,” Merrick said. “I saw the Christmas card you sent him on his coffee table last week. It’s too bad things didn’t work out between the two of you. You were so well-suited.”
Casey turned away to check her pastry shell. Merrick trying to make amends was almost as bad as Merrick putting her foot in her own mouth. Thank goodness she had chosen the Christmas card in question for its lack of a meaningful message. Merrick had probably peeked inside the card.
She opened the oven door and leaned in to prick a bubble of pastry with a fork, hoping the heat would explain her face. Since Kalin insisted on sending her cards at every excuse, along with occasional letters, she tried to reciprocate often enough to foster the idea that she regarded him as an old and dear friend.
Bonnie glanced at Casey. “It’s Kalin’s loss.”
Casey steadied her reeling senses and crossed the white tile floor to the refrigerator with the cake layers. She returned to the table with a pound of butter and began heating another saucepan containing sugar and water.
“Anything between us was over years ago,” she said. “After all, I was only eighteen then, and he was twenty-two. We both had lots of growing up to do.”
Clay said, “I’ve always suspected McBryde wasn’t all there.” His eyes were fixed on Casey’s face as she plugged in the electric mixer and began beating the butter.
Clay’s obvious admiration couldn’t help but lift Casey’s spirits. She smiled at him and asked if he’d like to help her make the icing for the cake.
“Anything for you, babe. What do I do?”
Soon Clay was bending over the pan on the stove, monitoring the temperature of the candy thermometer Casey had placed in the boiling sugar syrup.
“We’ll all help, Casey,” Merrick said belatedly. “What can I do?”
“Could you bring me the cake layers in the fridge?”
Casey took the pan of syrup and poured it gradually into the butter with the electric mixer going full blast. The resulting frosting caused the three watching to squabble amicably over licking the bowl and the knife Casey used to spread the concoction over the cake. The cake gained almost an inch in height before she was through.
She had just accepted a taste of her own creation off Clay’s finger when she noticed Bonnie staring rigidly at something in the doorway behind her. She turned to look as a deep, masculine voice said coolly, “Hello, Casey.”
Casey froze and licked the icing carefully off her lips. “Hello, Kalin,” she said slowly. “Fancy meeting you here.”
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