Читать книгу A Southern Reunion - Lenora Worth, Rachel Hauck - Страница 9

CASSIE ENTERED THE darkened room, her heart whispering a silent warning. The ceiling-to-floor windows across one wall of the big square room usually showed a panoramic view of the sloping backyard and the pool area. But today, the heavy beige drapes were drawn shut, causing patches of desperate sunshine to break through like lurking spotlights onto the high ceiling.

It took her a while to focus and get her bearings. The hospital bed had been set up in the corner where her father’s big oak desk used to be. The desk was gone but the sitting area remained the same, centered around the brick fireplace across from the bed. The row of bookshelves surrounding the fireplace remained full of volumes of various sizes and types, reminding Cassie of what a bookworm she’d always been in school.

Until that summer when Cal had brought her out of hiding and brought the world to her with all his talk of traveling and buying up land and…so many other dreams.

It felt surreal, being here in this room, hiding in darkness, shaking away in this atmosphere of sickness and death.

She didn’t want to advance toward the bed in the corner, toward the still, skeletal man lying in that bed. He didn’t look like the father she remembered.

Marcus Brennan had been larger than life—a rancher, a cowboy, a hunter and sportsman, a businessman and a gentleman with impeccable manners when around ladies and a brawling disregard when he went hunting or fishing with his cronies. He ruled this part of the state of Georgia and people either feared him or respected him.

At times, Cassie had felt both. Right now, she wasn’t sure what to feel, or what to say. So she just stood, her prayers centered on the next step. Then she heard her father’s voice for the first time in twelve years.

“Cassie?”

Cassie gulped back a silent sob. She wouldn’t cry now, not when she’d cried so many tears she’d probably be able to fill the Chattahoochee River. Not now, after she’d had to endure seeing Cal with her nemesis, Marsha, the woman who’d managed to break them apart even after Cassie’s powerful father had tried and failed.

Not now. Not now.

“Cassie, come over here and let me look at you.”

She advanced a step, then another, until she was at the foot of his bed. “Hello, Daddy.”

Marcus was propped up with pillows, his frail hand reaching toward her then falling away, back to the folds of the dark comforter covering his lower body.

“You came home.”

He said it in a way that ripped at her heart, his voice soft with yearning and awe. Had he expected her to ignore him?

“Yes, I’m here. How are you feeling?”

The cliché was the only thing that came to her mind, emerging through the unspoken, unasked questions that held her in a tight spasm of pain and fear.

His chuckle sounded like jagged rocks hitting against each other. “You see how I look. I feel about twice as bad as that. I guess I’m done for, girl.”

Cassie gripped the cold steel of the bed. “Teresa didn’t explain exactly what…what kind of illness you have. I’ve talked to several of your doctors since she called me regarding your health, but they didn’t want to discuss your medical condition with me.”

Another rumbling, hacking chuckle. “I’m dying. What does the rest matter?” He let out a rasping sigh. “I’ve drank too much, smoked too much, and seen and done too much. I have cancer and several other maladies with names longer than my seventy-nine vintage Cadillac.”

Cassie let that declaration take hold, willing herself to remain quiet and still. He appeared so fragile, so deathly, she was afraid to move, afraid her touch on his arm might shatter him. “I understand you have nurses?”

“Day and night. Draining me dry, too.”

Her father was a very rich man, so she doubted that. “Where is your nurse right now?”

“Told her to come later this afternoon. Wanted some time alone with you. They hover over me, drives me nuts.”

Cassie could only imagine that and pity the nurses who had to deal with Marcus Brennan. “Do you need anything?”

“I need to go back about fifteen years, is all.”

Don’t we all, Cassie thought, one single tear escaping down her face. Grabbing at courage, she moved around to the side of the bed. “Why am I here, Daddy? Why did you wait so long to call me home?”

“Why did you wait so long to come home?” he countered, his expression creased with frustration and too much time alone.

Cassie didn’t know how to answer that question. She’d called home time after time, especially during that first rough year of college. Teresa would take her messages but she’d never hear back from her father. After the first awkward, awful Thanksgiving and Christmas here when her father didn’t even bother to eat meals with her or exchange gifts, either, she’d swallowed back the pain of holidays spent alone or with friends, with long nights of worrying and praying for things she couldn’t have. After a few months, she’d given up, her heart breaking into brittle little pieces each time her messages were not returned.

“I’m here now,” she said, blinking back the stubborn tears. “I’m here, Daddy.”

Marcus gazed up at her, his shrewd brown eyes hollow and hard-edged, his mouth open in a rasping for each breath. “As pretty as ever.” He swallowed, closed his eyes for a moment. “You are the image of your mother.”

And that was why he’d hated her so much, Cassie realized.

CAL STOMPED INTO THE kitchen, searching, the scent of Cassie’s perfume lingering in the air like a low-hanging flower, teasing him while he searched for her.

“Where is she?”

The housekeeper who also served as his sometime-therapist and wise counselor said, “In with her daddy.”

“How is she?”

Teresa automatically filled a glass with ice and poured him some sweet tea. “Shaky. Confused. Wanting to know why you’re back here and why her daddy called her home.”

Cal lowered his head, his hand absorbing the condensation on the crystal glass. “Did you tell her anything?”

“Not yet. She went straight in. Poor girl. She looked so lost. It didn’t help one bit that Marsha decided to come calling today of all days. Did she know Cassie was coming home?”

“No. At least she didn’t hear it from me.” Cal took a long sip of his tea, the syrupy sweetness of it hitting the dry spot in his throat with a soothing rush. Then he put down the glass and stared at the melting ice. “This is hard for all of us.”

Teresa went back to wiping and putting things away. “Yep, I reckon it is. I should have warned her. I don’t like keeping things from her.”

“She wouldn’t have come if she’d known I was here.”

“And that’s why I didn’t tell her.”

That reality made Cal wince with a soul-deep pain but he fought it. He’d been fighting against it for so long now.

“Guess I’d better get back to work. I’ll check back in later.”

“You want to come for supper?”

He and Teresa had taken to eating their meals together, just in case Marcus took a turn for the worse. “No. I think it’d be better if I keep to myself for a while. Jack’s waiting for me in the east field. Soybeans need my attention today.”

Teresa didn’t say anything and her expression held no judgment. Maybe that was why Cal liked her and trusted her.

That and the fact that she was more like a mother to him than his own had ever been.

“Be careful out there,” Teresa said, as always. “Tell Jack to drink plenty of water.”

Teresa had a crush on the burly old field hand. As always, Cal saluted her. “It’s just tractors and dirt, Teresa. I think Jack and I can handle it.”

But they both knew managing a big plantation was about a lot more than tractors and dirt.

He turned toward the kitchen door that led out onto the back porch and came face-to-face with Cassie as she rounded the corner from the hallway. One look at her and his protective instincts picked right back up where they’d left off so long ago. “Are you all right?”

She reached toward the counter, her face pale and drawn, her eyes glazed into an icy blue. “No.”

The one word, whispered on a rushed breath, caused Cal to step forward and tug her close. “Here, sit down.”

She tried to push him away but he’d always been bigger and stronger. And she used to lean on him when she was afraid or tired.

She looked around, her eyes now wild. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay.”

“You’re not fine,” he said, guiding her to a high-backed chair by the window. “Teresa, can you bring her some water.”

He heard the faucet turning on, heard Teresa hurrying across the room. “Here, honey.”

Cassie looked up, her eyes turning the innocent blue of a confused hurt child. She took the water, sipped it for a minute, then handed it back to Teresa. “He’s really dying.”

Teresa shot a stern look toward Cal. “Yes, he is.”

Cassie glanced down at her hands. “I thought maybe it was just some kind of ploy, a trick to get me to come back. But he looks so sick. So small.”

Cal bent down in front of Cassie, forcing her to look at him. “He wanted you here but it took him a long time to admit it.” He shoved the glass of water back toward her. “He didn’t want to…go…with things the way they were between you two.”

She sipped the water then stared down at the glass. “Why didn’t he want me here while he was still alive enough to really spend time mending things between us? I would have come. I tried coming home, then when that didn’t work, I wrote to him, sent him cards, left messages. Then I gave up and got on with my life. But I would have been here if he’d only asked.”

Cal couldn’t explain that one. He’d often wondered the same thing. He knew why he wasn’t wanted here before now, but how could a man turn on his only daughter like that? Since returning, Cal had thought many times about calling her, but Marcus Brennan was a stubborn man. And Cal had to be honest. He’d been too bitter and hurt himself to ask Cassie to come back, especially when he knew she wouldn’t like being around him. And that she would hate him all over again when the truth came out.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “All I know is that he asked us to get you home and you’re here now.” He looked up at Teresa. “We’re all here. We have to do our best for him.”

She stared at him as if she didn’t know him at all. “And how long have you been back?”

He didn’t dare lie about that. “A few months. Since last fall.”

“What else are you two keeping from me?”

Teresa busied herself with cleaning off the counter and moving a bowl of fresh fruit into place. Not bothering to address Cassie’s last question, she said, “I thought it best you didn’t know about Cal. You didn’t call that much anymore and when you did, I just didn’t know what to tell you. Your daddy made demands and I abided by those demands.” Her shrug said it all. But Cal knew there was much more to all of this.

Cassie got up then, pushing past Cal, her hands tightening against the wide butcher-block island. “And I didn’t abide by his rules and his demands. So I got banished until…the bitter end. Until it was almost too late.”

Cal hadn’t planned on explaining his presence to her, but she deserved to know. “C’mon,” he said, grabbing her by the arm. “Let’s go have a talk.”

Her frown held disbelief and distrust. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Lots.” He practically dragged her toward the back door.

Teresa called after them. “She needs to eat something. She didn’t have a bite of lunch.”

“I’m not hungry,” Cassie said on a grumbling breath, her eyes on Cal. “And I’d not ready for this.”

“Oh, yes, you are.” Cal held her elbow, urging her toward his cottage. “We’re going to get this over with here and now, Cassie.”

“Why? Whatever you have to say won’t change a thing.”

“It’ll explain a lot, though. I thought you wanted answers and explanations.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. This is between my daddy and me.”

He didn’t blame her for that. He’d lied to her once before and it had destroyed both of them. “I don’t care what you think about me, but you need to understand how things are around here now.”

She hurried toward the farmhouse cottage, pushing at camellia bushes as she went. “Yes, I guess it would be nice if someone would enlighten me about the status quo. I’ve had quite enough surprises for one day.”

Her silky, cultured Southern voice poured over him. Even spitting mad, she still had class. Which was only one more reason he should have stayed away from this place. Or left as soon as Marcus told him the real reason he wanted Cassie to come home.

But he’d stayed, of course. To see her again. To finish what he’d started. And to honor a dying man’s wishes.

Or so he told himself.

Taking her up onto the back porch, he pointed to a white rocking chair. “Have a seat. I’ll get you something to eat.”

“I told you I’m not hungry.”

He ignored her and went inside to search for something that would fill her up without making her sick. She’d always been a picky eater. Then he remembered she used to like yogurt. He didn’t have any of that, but he did have some ice cream. He grabbed the container out of the freezer then found a spoon and took it out to her.

Cassie stared up at the container, an amused look clearing away some of her disdain. “Butter-pecan ice cream? Are you serious?”

Glad to see her diva attitude kicking back in, he nodded. “Just take a couple of bites.”

“I rarely eat ice cream.”

“Well, maybe it’s time you try. I love it on a summer night.”

She glared at him then took the open container and the spoon. With a defiant dig, she scooped up a mound and shoved it into her mouth.

“See, not so bad, is it?”

She took another bite. “No. It slides down rather smoothly, unlike some of the preconceived notions I have about you.”

Ouch. He deserved that. “I know you don’t want me here, Cassie. But I’m not leaving. I’ve put too much into this place to leave now.”

She put down the ice cream and tossed the spoon onto the table by the chair. “And why exactly are you here, Cal?”

Cal took the ice cream back inside to the freezer then came out to sit on the porch rail in front of her. “Sometimes, I ask myself that same question.”

“I never expected to see you again,” she finally said, her tone so soft now he barely heard her words. “I’d forgotten how much you love ice cream.”

He stared down at her frowning, pouting face, remembering how he used to be able to kiss that pout right off her pretty lips. “Will you listen to me?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not if you want to understand.”

She sat back in the rocking chair. “Okay, but I need to get back, so talk fast.”

Cal let out a long sigh. “After I left, I moved around a lot, working on farm after farm, doing whatever work I could find. Then I saw this little bit of land up north of here and bought it with borrowed money, thinking I’d settle down and farm for myself since I’d learned everything there was to know about growing food and producing livestock.”

She shot him a wry smile. “Does that include the load of manure you’re about to give me?”

“You said you’d listen.”

She started rocking again, her modern outfit a sharp contrast to the old-fashioned high-backed chair.

“After a couple of years, I made a profit so I bought the neighboring farm and added it to mine. And one thing led to another. I wound up owning a lot of land about fifty miles north of here. Well, actually the bank owns it but I’m making the payments.”

“Why didn’t you stay on your own place?”

He put a finger to his lips. “Listen.”

She rocked back and forth. “All right.”

His gaze hit hers and she looked away. “I was at a land-management seminar in Tifton last fall when I ran into your daddy.” He paused and let out a breath. “He looked like he didn’t feel good and I noticed he’d lost a lot of weight.”

She lowered her eyes then nodded. “Go on.”

“At first, we were kind of standoffish with each other but he finally approached me and told me he’d heard good things about my farm-management experience and how I’d acquired a lot of acreage. He was impressed. He told me the foreman he’d hired after Walt died wasn’t doing a good job and he’d been looking for someone he could trust to take over. Then he offered me the job of foreman for Camellia, right there on the spot. But I had my own land and I didn’t want to work for anyone else, especially him. A few weeks later, he called me and made another offer and told me he was sick. Since I wanted to pay off my land, I took him up on it. I rent out my land now and I work here. I get back up there once or twice a month, just to check on my workers.”

She stopped rocking. “So you’re telling me you turned your own land over to someone else so you could come back here and work for my father?”

“Yes. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s the truth. The rent money helps to pay down my mortgage and the money I’m making here helps me to fix up the place.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He stood up and leaned over her, holding his hands on both arms of the rocking chair. “I don’t really care whether you believe me or not. It’s the truth.”

She lifted her gaze to his, her eyes full of accusation and doubt. “That doesn’t make a bit of sense, Cal. My father is dying.”

“Yes, and he had just recovered from a heart attack when he offered me the job. He needed my help, Cassie.”

She went still again. “He had a heart attack?”

“Yes, but he made me swear not to call you. And since I didn’t think you’d talk to me anyway, I stayed out of it.”

“But you dropped everything and gave up your dreams to help my father?”

He got so close, he could see the light blue of her irises. “Yes, I did.”

“Why? What’s the real reason? I know you always had this dream of owning your own place and now you say you do. But why come back here, after the way my father treated you?” She stopped, took in a breath. “After what happened between us? Why would you even want to come back here?”

He hadn’t planned to tell her that but maybe she needed to know. “You, of course. I did it for you, Cassie.”

She inhaled a deep breath but she didn’t speak.

Then he stood up, his eyes centered on her. “That’s the truth. I did it because your daddy needed someone he could trust and because…you couldn’t be here. I did it to help a bitter old man, but mostly I came back for you.”