Читать книгу Small-Town Dreams and The Girl Next Door: Small-Town Dreams / The Girl Next Door - Kate Welsh - Страница 11

Light streamed in the room, disturbing Cassidy’s deep dream-filled sleep. She opened her eyes, disoriented for a heartbeat. Then it all came back. The meeting. The drive. The car. She looked around the big ivory-and-lavender room. Joshua.

He’d brought her and her things up here. Then, after getting her a glass of water, he’d promised to call her for dinner. She fingered the quilt that had been tossed over her. Its navy, burgundy and forest-green print didn’t go with the elegant room. The carefully constructed log cabin quilt was just too masculine to fit in here. She brought it to her face and knew why she’d thought of Joshua almost immediately upon waking—why she’d been dreaming of him when she woke.

The quilt carried his scent.

She remembered it from those incredible seconds she’d spent in his arms when she’d stumbled on her way across the gravel drive from the church thrift shop to the Tallingers’ house. The extreme care she’d taken of her footing had been doomed to failure when her heel encountered a particularly large chunk of gravel. She’d tipped sideways, and only Joshua’s quickness had saved her.

Her face flamed anew. He’d seen her at her clumsiest. Had he also seen her sleeping at her most vulnerable? Had he covered her with his quilt? Taken off her shoes? Or had his mother come in? She wished she’d locked her door. She didn’t like feeling so defenseless with strangers.

She caught his scent on the quilt again and tossed it off her. She especially didn’t like the mixed feelings Joshua evoked in her. He was not the kind of man she’d ever been interested in. He was too masculine. Too primitive. He fit in these mountains—unlike her with her high-heeled shoes and power suits. He was completely unlike the men she’d dated occasionally over the years. Joshua was more like a diamond in the rough than those well-polished gems in her past.

But for all his masculinity and size, he was a gentle man if not a gentleman, she reminded herself. He had a kindness in his eyes that she was sure reached all the way to his core. Which meant that she hadn’t completely lost her mind with this attraction she felt for him.

She remembered the way he’d treated Irma when she’d entered the thrift shop with her unwieldy bundle. He’d seemed all gruff and impatient, while tenderness and love had flooded his gaze. In the few minutes she’d been with him, Cassidy had recognized that he was a special person. Maybe that was why she’d dreamed of him.

A knock at her door drew her from her thoughts, and as if those thoughts had beckoned him, Cassidy heard Joshua call to her through the door. She scrambled off the bed, straightening her blouse and skirt as she stumbled to the door. “Yes?” she asked as she opened it.

Joshua stood there. He looked the same. Big. Strikingly handsome. Disturbing. “Ma said to tell you breakfast should be in half an hour,” he told her.

“Please, tell Irma it’s kind of her to include me in your family breakfast but I usually only have coffee.”

“Maybe that’s why you have an ulcer.”

Cassidy sucked a quick breath. “How did you…”

Joshua looked instantly uncomfortable. “You keep rubbing your stomach and flinching. I figured an ulcer or close to it.” He frowned and shrugged carelessly, but there was something in his eyes. A vulnerability and uncertainty that surprised her and gave her pause. “Sorry,” he continued. “Sometimes I just say what I’m thinking when I shouldn’t.” He flashed her a self-deprecating grin.

“It’s okay. You’re right. It is an ulcer,” she told him, wanting to reassure him. Seeing someone so strong look so vulnerable made her feel vulnerable, too, for some reason. And Cassidy always liked to feel in control. Maybe because she’d had so little control of the decisions that had formed her life into what it had become.

“Then I’ll stick my neck out again. Maybe you should see someone about it.”

“Done. I just started on medication. I guess my job’s been getting to me. I’ll try the breakfast idea. You seem to know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t. Not really. It’s just that when I came up to wake you for dinner, you were asleep. Which means you also missed dinner. That can’t be good.”

“It was you who covered me?” she asked carefully, still not sure how she felt about his having been in her room while she was sleeping.

“No. When you didn’t answer your door, I got worried and called Ma. She didn’t want to wake you to get you under the covers but she said you looked cold. So I grabbed the quilt off my bed so she could cover you. Did you sleep okay?”

“Yes. I did,” she said, trying to ignore the memory of the disturbing dream she’d had about him. They’d been dancing—waltzing, really—in a barn. She’d been wearing a dress fit only for a remake of “Oklahoma.” She shook off the thought. “Well…um, thank you for your concern. Would you tell your mother I’ll be down in a few minutes?”

He nodded gravely and left.

Joshua stalked through the house and out the back door, letting the storm door flap shut with a satisfying bang behind him. He stood at the top of the steps, his thoughts spinning. It was clear to him that temptation had come to Mountain View, but he couldn’t give in to it. Even though temptation came in a very special package named Cassidy Jamison.

When the door squeaked slowly open behind him and he felt a reassuring hand settle on his back, he sank down on the wooden back steps.

“Did Ms. Jamison insult my cooking, son?” Irma asked as she settled next to him.

He grinned ruefully at his mother and shook his head, but the smile slipped into a frown. “She’ll be down for breakfast, but I think I’ll give it a skip.” What was wrong with him? It was a warm day for late November and the sun felt good on his face. He should be in a fine mood. But all he could think of was that dreamy look that had come into Cassidy’s eyes and the way it had affected him. He wanted to get to know her. And he couldn’t.

Irma arched a thin eyebrow. “Oh, so it’s you who’s insulting my cooking. Fine. I’ll give your breakfast to Bear. At least he appreciates my efforts.”

Joshua didn’t look at Irma but he couldn’t hold back a grin, either. “Bear would eat anything, and it isn’t your cooking I’m avoiding and you know it.”

“Then it’s the company. Don’t you like Cassidy?”

“I like her fine. But…”

“But?”

He shrugged. “She makes me…uncomfortable.”

“Did she do something that triggered a memory yesterday?”

Now he did look at Irma, understanding her concern. Understanding the reluctant hope in her gaze, as well. Joshua shook his head. “No. It was like I said. I just knew something I shouldn’t. She shook your hand. You looked surprised. Women around here don’t usually shake hands. But it seemed just right to me. It felt real, the way things do when I know them from before.”

“And that’s all?”

“That and Cassidy—” Joshua stopped in mid-thought. He didn’t want to talk to Irma about what Cassidy made him feel.

This time Irma’s raised eyebrow wasn’t speculative but annoyingly all-knowing. He could feel his cheeks heat.

“Maybe you should talk with Henry. He took Bear for a walk. They ought to be back in no time. But you will come to the table. I’m not sending you off to fix the Wilsons’ roof without a good meal in you.”

“Ma.”

Irma poked him. “Don’t whine and don’t ‘Ma’ me. You get yourself to the table.”

Irma had long since gone back to cooking breakfast when a deep woof echoed in the woods. “Hey, Bear,” Joshua called to his huge mongrel dog, as the animal lumbered into the middle of the yard.

Bear was one of those strange accidents of nature that got all the extreme traits of his ancestors. And judging from the way he’d turned out, he had very large ancestors. Joshua and Henry had gone through a book on dog breeds once and picked out Newfoundland and English sheepdog as the most likely culprits. The result was a huge dog with hair so thick it stood on end and made Bear look about twenty pounds heavier than his one hundred fifty pounds. As a puppy, he’d looked more like a bear cub than a dog.

Bear had wandered into the yard the day Joshua came to live with the Tallingers. Joshua had gotten out of the car that day, still needing a walker, and had nearly tripped over the little fellow who skidded to a stop at his feet. It had been such a frightening day, facing a world of unknowns, and then he’d looked down and seen a creature even more afraid than he was. Henry had steadied Joshua, and Irma had swept the puppy up in her arms. Joshua, still not well versed in the strange world outside the hospital, had called him a “bear.” The name stuck, and Bear had lived up to it all too well.

Joshua picked up a ball and sent Bear running after it, just as Henry cleared the edge of the woods. “He tire you out?” Joshua asked as Henry settled onto the picnic bench.

“Me?” he asked, huffing and puffing. “That’ll be the day. You taking him up to the Wilsons’ with you?”

Joshua nodded and sat down across from Henry. “Yeah. I’ll get going after I eat. I was going to skip breakfast, but Ma had a fit.”

“Why’d you want to go and do a fool thing like that, boy? Irma was cooking up a storm when I left, on account of our guest.”

Joshua took a moment to look around him, trying to enjoy his surroundings in the hope that it would settle him. But it didn’t. There was no denying the truth. “Our guest is why I tried to get out of breakfast. I’m attracted to her. Except I’m not free to be. I just wanted to steer clear of her. Ma had other ideas.”

Henry leaned forward and grabbed Joshua’s hand to give it a quick squeeze. It was a father-son gesture that made him feel supported and loved.

“Josh, your memory’s gone. The accident, or whatever it was that happened to you, took it. It’s not going to come back.”

“Doctor Bennington said it still could,” Joshua protested.

“That isn’t the way I heard it. I believe he said that after five years it wasn’t impossible, but highly unlikely.”

“True, but what if—”

“You’ve got to forget that woman in the picture. We don’t know who she is. Even the police and a national television show couldn’t find out. I wish they’d never shown it to you.”

Joshua frowned. “But they did.”

“And you need to forget it. She could be your sister. You have to start living for the here and now, and the future. I truly don’t believe the Good Lord would have you be alone in this life He’s restored to you. If you like this girl, this Cassidy, then I say you ought to spend time with her. She’ll be gone by day after tomorrow. Where’s the harm in a little companionship?”

Bear dropped the ball in Joshua’s lap, and Joshua tossed it toward the woods. “And then what? She’ll go back to the city and get back to her life and the job that gave her ulcers.” Joshua sighed. “And I’ll be here, maybe wishing she’d stayed. What’s the point? Don’t you see? Even if I did feel free to think about her in the long term, she doesn’t belong here.”

Henry leaned down, picked up a dead leaf and twirled it between his fingers. “Maybe you’re supposed to help her figure out that she shouldn’t go back to her job if it’s making her sick. The Lord sends people into our lives all the time with a plan in His mind. And another thing—you took a big job on yourself when you signed on as my assistant pastor. You work for a pretty demanding boss—and I don’t mean me.”

“I know who I work for,” Joshua snapped.

Henry fixed him with a steely, blue-eyed look. “Counseling the troubled is part of your job description. Irma says Cassidy Jamison is one unhappy young lady. Your obligation to His flock doesn’t stop at members of our church. You’re supposed to help any of God’s children who need you.”

“So you help her,” Josh groused, and unconsciously tossed the ball for Bear again.

Henry sighed, clearly exasperated. “I didn’t just take you on as an assistant because you swing a mean hammer or because you’re young enough to take over for me when I’m gone. I took you on because you relate to younger people and they relate to you. They open up to you. And you get to them in a way I can’t.”

Joshua grimaced. “I know that, but Cassidy—”

A deep woof and a shriek cut off Joshua’s further objection. He turned in time to see Bear rear up and settle his huge front paws on Cassidy Jamison’s narrow shoulders. Woman and dog hit the ground with a thud.

When the shrieking continued, Bear took off for the woods like a shot. Then he saw Joshua and Henry, and turned on a dime to head for Joshua.

“No, Bear!” Josh shouted, but it was too late. Dog and man collided, and there would have been a second thud resounding in the yard except that the yard was still soaked from a recent rain. So this time there came instead a muddy splat.

Then the dog, whimpering and panicked, tried to curl up on top of Joshua. When that didn’t provide enough security, he tried crawling under his now-filthy owner, rolling them both in the mud. It turned into a wrestling match as Joshua tried to subdue the frightened dog.

“Bear! Will you stop it?” Joshua shouted over the din of wild barks and whimpers. “She’s a nice lady. She isn’t going to hurt you.”

When he was finally able to wrap his arms around the dog’s neck to hold him still, Joshua heard Cassidy ask, her tone understandably and utterly incredulous, “Hurt him? He pushed me down.”

“Bear. Sit,” Joshua growled as the dog tried to backpedal away from Cassidy and Henry. “Are you all right?” he asked Cassidy, holding on to Bear and looking up from where he knelt next to the dog.

Cassidy brushed off her jeans and nodded. “Is he always so erratic? I’m not used to dogs but—”

Joshua chuckled. “Bear has two problems. He’s too friendly, which is all he was trying to be when he knocked you down. And he’s chicken. All it took to send him running was for you to scream. He’s yellow as they come. Don’t let the black coat fool you,” he said, ruffling that same pitch-black fur.

Joshua let out a laugh when Bear leaned into him, forcing him to sit in the mud again. Then Bear climbed into his master’s lap. A considerable amount of dog didn’t fit. But he kept trying, spreading the mud farther over Joshua’s clothes.

“Three. He has three problems, Josh,” Henry put in, deadpan. “He weighs a hundred and fifty pounds and thinks he’s a lap dog.” The old pastor frowned. “Well, we have to be honest. He also eats too much, is dumb as a post about what animals it’s not safe to chase, and as a guard dog he’d make a better ambassador of goodwill. Probably lick a burglar to death if one ever came ‘round. Guess that makes six faults. Major ones.”

“You’re a real mess,” Cassidy said as she reached out slowly to pet the soft black fur on the dog’s ruff.

Joshua took her wrist and put her hand on Bear when the dog started whining again. “This is Cassidy,” he told Bear, trying to ignore the feel of Cassidy’s fine-boned wrist beneath his fingers. “She’s a friend. Friend. But no jumping. Got it?”

Bear abandoned Joshua’s lap to sit at Cassidy’s feet. His tail thumping, he handed her his paw, his pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

Joshua chuckled at the stupid love-struck look on the dog’s face. “I think you’ve got a friend for life,” he said, and stood, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. Mud streaked his clothes while Cassidy looked as fresh as a spring rain. Bear could be a real ego buster.

Cassidy looked up at him. “Oh, you’re a mess, too,” she sputtered, trying not to laugh.

Joshua looked down at himself and chuckled. “Yeah, I’m a mess, all right,” he admitted, shooting Bear a what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you sort of look.

“Son, you’d better run and clean up before Irma gets breakfast on,” Henry told him.

Joshua almost used the mud as an escape from eating with them, but then he looked at Cassidy. She was smiling down at Bear. And this time the smile was in her eyes.

Maybe he could help her get her life back on track. “I’ll see y’all at the table.”

Cassidy tossed the book she was reading aside and stared up at the ceiling above the bed. She was at loose ends, with nothing but a book she’d read as a child to occupy her mind. Joshua had gone to help a family whose roof leaked. She imagined Irma was running her diner and Henry had gone to the thrift shop after breakfast. She would have gone to talk to him, but he was working on his sermon for a Wednesday evening service.

She’d really stuck her foot in her mouth when that subject had come up at breakfast. She’d remarked that she’d thought people only went to church once a week—on Sunday. Joshua explained that many churches had a second Sunday evening service, and one on Wednesday night, as well. And yes, there were those who attended all three. He’d also explained that everyone referred to Henry as “Pastor Henry,” not Reverend Tallinger.

Joshua was a compelling man. He was physically a big man, yet he treated his parents with a visible gentleness that was both touching and heartwarming. He had a strength of character that he projected in everything he spoke about during the meal, yet he seemed to depend on his parents in some indefinable but very tangible way. And though he treated his parents with the utmost respect, he called his father “Henry,” which was the biggest contradiction about him of all.

Cassidy sat up and stared at herself in the mirror over the dresser. “Stop thinking about him!” she ordered herself. So his touch disturbed her. So he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. He was also a hayseed preacher who fixed roofs and had an ill-mannered dog. And since when was she so curious about an unsuitable stranger? she thought stubbornly.

She needed to do something to get her mind off him and onto the things she needed to think about. A walk. She’d take a walk. Commune with nature. That was it.

Irma was in the kitchen when she walked by, so Cassidy stuck her head in the door. “I thought I’d take a walk. Which direction would you suggest?”

“There’s a nice trail through the woods out behind the house. Joshua marked it and keeps it cleared. When you come to the fork in the trail, follow the sign that points to town. It’s written right on the sign. The other way is to our cabin, and that’s not a walk. It’s a six-mile hike up the mountain.”

“Town sounds perfect. Did Josh mark it for your summer guests?”

Irma chuckled. “Goodness, no. We don’t get that many. He marked it for himself. That boy has no sense of direction whatsoever.”

“Did he go to school in the south?” Cassidy asked, and could have bitten her tongue. What was wrong with her?

Irma frowned. “What’s that got to do with his sense of direction?”

“Nothing. Forget I asked, please.”

“But why would you think that?” Irma pressed.

Now she was really sorry she’d let her curiosity get the better of her common sense. “’Y’all.’ He said ‘y’all’ earlier,” she explained. “It’s a southern expression.”

Irma walked to the center island and started shelling peas, a worried and thoughtful expression on her lined face. “He does say that now and again, doesn’t he? Hmm. Now there’s food for thought.”

“Thought about what?” Cassidy asked before she could stop herself.

“Oh, about where he’s from,” Irma said matter-offactly. “He could have heard it in a movie or on TV, and it might have felt familiar on his tongue.”

Now it was Cassidy’s turn to frown. How could his own mother forget where Joshua was raised? Irma was up there in years and she seemed hale and hearty, but perhaps her mind wasn’t as sound as Cassidy had assumed. She walked over to Irma, leaning her elbows on the island so she could watch Irma’s expression.

“Josh is from Mountain View,” Cassidy replied carefully, and waited for a reaction.

Irma smiled and shook her head. “Oh, no, dear, he isn’t. Joshua didn’t grow up here. He isn’t our blood son.”

Cassidy’s eyes widened. “But he calls you ‘Ma.’ I will admit his calling your husband ‘Henry’ surprised me but—”

“Joshua is the child we never had. He’s become our son since he came to us, but we never laid eyes on him till almost five-and-a-half years ago.”

“He came here to be your husband’s assistant, and you still don’t know where he grew up?”

Irma patted her hand, then pushed the bag of peas to rest between them. “No, we found him, dear. He was lying beside the road in a ditch, all broken and beaten. Henry and I—we just couldn’t forget that face of his once the ambulance came and took him to the hospital. We went to see him and just kept going back. He had no identification on him, you see. We were all he had. I’ve never prayed as hard for anything in my life as I did that that boy would live and wake up whole. The doctors didn’t give him much of a chance, but we just kept praying over him. He’s a miracle, that boy of ours.”

“You got your wish,” Cassidy said, smiling.

Irma shook her gray head. “It wasn’t a wish, child. It was a prayer. And no. I didn’t get all of what I asked for. I got more and less. The Lord works in strange ways. Joshua’s proof positive of that. You see, when he finally did wake from the coma six months later, he couldn’t talk or walk. We all soon realized that he had no idea who he was or where he’d come from. It was gone—his whole life. The doctors guessed that between twenty-five and thirty years were just…gone. And he was completely alone in the world.”

Cassidy felt as if a hand had reached into her chest and had a choke-hold on her heart. She looked down and realized that she was automatically opening the pea pods and dumping the peas in a bowl that Irma must have put in front of her. “But he doesn’t seem brain damaged.”

“The doctors thought that he was at first, but he relearned language so fast that they decided he had severe amnesia.”

“And his past has never come back?”

“Just little impressions and vague knowledge that he doesn’t remember learning.”

“But his past could still come back to him?” Cassidy asked.

Irma pursed her lips and shook her head. “After this long, that isn’t likely according to his doctor. He came to live with us when he was discharged. I was a teacher and I was the most qualified to teach him all he needed to know. Besides, we loved him already.”

Then his attachment to the Tallingers was almost like that of a child for his parents. “So he calls you ‘Ma’ because you became his mother, but why doesn’t he call Henry ‘Dad’ or ‘Pa’?”

“Joshua isn’t sure. He said it doesn’t feel like a compliment to him. Maybe he didn’t have a good relationship with his real father. It’s one of those vague feelings Joshua gets—and Henry doesn’t care what Joshua calls him. He just loves his Josh the way he is and is grateful to have him with us.” Irma picked up both bowls, moved toward a pot on the stove and dumped in the peas for cooking. “Besides,” she continued, “he didn’t start out to call me ‘Ma.’ He just couldn’t get his tongue around ‘Ir-ma’ at first, and it came out ‘Ma.’ He laughed. I laughed. And he just kept calling me ‘Ma.’”

“This is all so incredible. Like a movie of the week or something.”

“No. It’s a miracle is what it is,” Irma said. “Those doctors didn’t give him a ghost of a chance to live, let alone thrive the way he has.” Irma turned back to Cassidy, her pale eyes lit with pride, though her expression was serious. “His mind’s so quick, all he has to do is read something once and he knows it. I taught school for thirty years and I never had a brighter student. And there’s nothing he can’t fix if it’s broken, either. The only two problems he’s left with are the loss of memory and the fact he just says whatever pops into his mind. Of course, there’s that sense of direction of his, too.” Irma laughed. “But who knows if he wasn’t always like that. He’s a special man, and we’re proud of him.”

Cassidy could see that they were, but wouldn’t his real family have felt the same way? Cassidy could only imagine their suffering. “Hasn’t anyone tried to find out where he belongs?”

“I’ve thought from the first that he belongs right here, but we did try. We had people from that TV mystery show come up here and take his picture and film an interview with him about nine or ten months after he came to live with us. They did a whole story on him.” She snorted in derision. “He was terribly embarrassed, and all for nothing. Nothing ever came of it. It’s like he appeared out of nowhere. I like to think that the Lord meant for us to find him and bring him into our home. And Joshua has gone on to built a satisfying life for himself in the Lord’s service.”

He seemed to have, but Cassidy couldn’t help but wonder about the people he’d spent those first twenty-five or thirty years with. She knew what their grief felt like. She remembered back to when she was eight years old. She’d awakened in a hospital to find her grandfather by her bed, telling her that her parents were dead. A wall of snow had come crashing into their vacation home while they’d sat snuggled around the fire, and had swept them from her life. The people in Joshua’s life would have felt the same tearing grief she had. That she still did feel twenty years later.

She was glad that at a time when Joshua was all alone in the world he had found the kind of unconditional love parents give. Because though Cassidy’s grandfather had raised her, she still felt she had to earn his love—one day at a time.