Dad for Charlie & the Sergeant's Temptation & the Alaskan Catch & New Year's Wedding (9781488015687)

by Stewart, Anna J. ; Sasson, Sophia; Carpenter, Beth; Jensen, Muriel

  “And you get to go back to your glamorous job in Paris, or New York, or wherever your next assignment is.” Sarah huffed a wistful sigh. “I’d love to see Paris.”

  Cassie covered sausage and cheese plates for the refrigerator while her sister-in-law wiped off trays. Corie and Helen washed and dried utensils. “Now that you have family there,” Cassie said, “you’ll always have a place to stay when you come.”

  “Are the pastries really as wonderful as all that?”

  “Better than you can even imagine. Although Diane’s cake was pretty amazing.” She smiled at Grady’s mother, who was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite interpret.

  “How do you stay—” she swept a hand up and down Cassie’s very slender body “—like that?”

  “I walk everywhere, for one thing, and I’ve inherited my father’s height and body type. He’s as lean in his sixties as he was as a young man. And I do eat really lightly when I’m working.”

  Sarah sighed. “I’d never have the self-control to do that.”

  “I’d never have the smarts to run a senior care facility. We all have our skills. Mine just happen to be…physical.”

  “That’s not true.” Corie spoke firmly. “I remember how much fun it was to be your penpal when you were twelve. For a couple of months you were the only happy spot in my life.” Her firm expression turned into a soft smile of affection. “I’m so glad we found you. And I’m so happy that life’s been good to you.”

  It had. She couldn’t deny that.

  “It’s going to be so good for all of you to be reconnected,” Helen said. “Jack used to do his best to take care of you when your mom was…” She groped for a word then stopped trying to find one with a wave of her hand. “He talked about you all the time after he came to live with us. I’m so happy that he has his family back.”

  Sarah nodded. “Maybe now his nightmares will stop forever.” At Cassie’s look of confusion, she went on. “He used to dream about your mother being in Iraq and Afghanistan when he was stationed there. I think his subconscious confused all the bad things in his life and put them together in nightmares about her dressed in a hijab and climbing onto the vehicle he drove.”

  “How awful.” Cassie closed the refrigerator door and sat at the table. “I feel so badly that those times were so awful for Jack and Corie, and I barely remember them.”

  Corie sat across from her. “It wouldn’t make it any less bad for me, if you remembered having a bad childhood, too. So don’t think about it that way. After I ran away from my stepmother, I liked the thought that you were on your way to Paris with your dad and that things would be good for you there. And they finally all worked out for me, so let’s just let all that go.”

  Cassie nodded. “I can do that.”

  Helen said, as though determined to put that out of their minds, “I confirmed with Father Eisley for five in the evening.”

  “Who’s giving you away?” Cassie asked. “Didn’t you say Teresa isn’t able to come to the wedding?” Teresa McGinnis ran the foster home that Corie had grown up in and then stayed to help run.

  “No, she isn’t.” Corie was clearly unhappy about that. “But she has a whole new batch of kids and their needs come first. Ben and I will make a special trip to see her in the spring.” She cheered visibly. “Gary offered to give me away. I’m very honored.”

  Jack, Ben and Soren walked into the room. Ben said, “We’re here to report that all the chandeliers work beautifully. We lined up the chandeliers in their boxes on their sides along the back wall. And we’re thinking we’d better get home because the wind’s picking up and the kids left their bikes out behind the condo.”

  Jack scrutinized the women. “You look very sad for women planning such a happy occasion.”

  Sarah stood and went to put her arms around his waist. “It’s not sadness, it’s happiness that the three of you are together again. That’s seriously heavy stuff.”

  “That’s true. But we make a promise here and now to put aside what separated us, and forge ahead to whatever awaits. And even though we have to let Cassie go back to Paris or wherever, Christmas will always be all of us together. Agreed?”

  Corie and Cassie chorused, “Agreed.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BIG DROPS OF rain came with more wind as Grady and Cassie saw the family off. Grady went onto the deck to take down a set of wind chimes and carry in a pair of wicker chairs.

  Cassie had followed him and looked over the railing at the potted plants below. “Are those going to be okay?”

  “I think so.” He pointed to the window behind her. “Want to get that shutter, please?” he asked as he closed the one nearest him.

  “At home in Paris or New York, outside shutters are just decorative,” she said as she closed the other one.

  He narrowed his eyes against the rain that began to thicken and fall in earnest. “In the woods in Oregon, they’re functional to save your windows from flying debris.”

  He guided her ahead of him into the great room and closed and locked the doors. With the shutters closed, the room was dark.

  Darkness was sometimes a trigger for her claustrophobia because it was impossible to be sure nothing hemmed her in or closed her off.

  She flipped the light switch she knew was right beside her and the great room came to life, the boxes on the floor lined up against the wall a testimony to the success of her wedding planning so far.

  She was suddenly exhausted. “I was thinking about going to bed early,” she told Grady as he headed for the kitchen. “Unless there’s something you need me to do.”

  He turned at the doorway. “No, nothing. I’m still stuffed from your buffet and Mom’s cake. Do you need anything before you go up?”

  She shook her head. “I’m good. The girls and I are going shopping in the morning.”

  She was trying hard not to look into his eyes, or at his mouth, but staring at his hair made her feel ridiculous. He even rolled his eyes up, obviously wondering what was on his head. She quickly added, “I’ll get groceries. Thanks for today. I loved it. I know you must have hated it, but I appreciate that you didn’t complain about my family being all over the place. Good night, Grady.”

  She was halfway up the stairs before he replied. “Good night, Cassie,” he said.

  * * *

  CASSIE WOKE OUT of a deep sleep and sat straight up in bed. She remained still, the blanket clutched in both hands, and wondered what had awakened her. She hadn’t been dreaming, and except for rain thumping against the windows, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong. Then she realized how dark it was, that there were no illuminated numbers on the bedside clock. The power must be out.

  The night pressed against her, nudging her, running a finger of sensation along her spine, whispering in her ear, “Got you now! You’re all mine. And there’s no one around to see or hear you.” A shudder ran through her.

  Well, that was just stupid, she told herself, throwing her blankets back. She was not going to fall victim to her own terrors.

  Then thunder clapped as loudly as though it were hanging from the ceiling above her bed. She was transplanted for an instant to that nebulous darkness of loud voices and noises.

  She heard a cry and realized it was her own as she hurried toward the stairs, hands held out in front of her to guide her. She’d taken just a few steps when she made herself slow down.

  She heard her breath rasping as she felt the end of the railing with her left hand and took a firm hold. There was no light in the great room, no night-light in the kitchen. Rain and wind slammed against the windows. For an instant, bright light illuminated the path to the kitchen, but the shutters she and Grady had closed against the wind kept the lightning from the great room. Then the light was gone, thunder crashed again, and she held the railing in one hand
and forced back a cry with the other.

  You’re fine, she told herself. Terrified beyond description, but fine.

  “Cassidy?” Grady called. He suddenly materialized at the bottom of the stairs, the glow of a bright lantern in his hands casting a ring of light from his knees to his shoes and the fir floor under his feet. He raised the light so that she could see his face—or so that he could see hers.

  He smiled. “You okay? That was pretty loud.”

  And pretty dark! “Yeah.” The thin quality of her voice didn’t even convince her.

  He seemed to hear that and came up the stairs, stopping a few steps below her and reaching up to take her hand. “You’re shaking,” he said, helping her to the bottom.

  “Yeah,” she said again. “I’m not crazy about the dark.” Her voice quaked in rhythm with her body.

  “It’s okay,” he said, putting an arm around her and holding the other with the light out ahead of them. “Want to sit on the sofa and I’ll make you a cup of tea?”

  “Please. Thank God for your gas range.”

  “Want something to nibble with it?”

  “I don’t know.” She tried to joke. “I think my family ate every last crumb you had. Anyway, I’m not hungry, but tea would be wonderful.”

  “Watch your shins.” They’d reached the coffee table and she walked carefully around the sharp edges to the soft, inviting sofa. She sat a little tensely in her midnight blue negligee, realizing now that she was freezing. She wrapped her arms around herself.

  Grady yanked a knitted throw off the back and placed it over her shoulders. “Sugar in your tea?” he asked. When she shook her head, he left her the lamp and headed unerringly for the kitchen. She caught a glimpse of lightning from that direction, and this time it took a moment for the thunder to crash. She hoped that meant the storm was moving away.

  She turned sideways on the sofa and tucked her legs up under the blanket, resting the side of her face against the sofa back. Her heart had stopped thudding and was now down to a steady bongo beat. She drew a breath and let it out slowly, trying to free herself of the fear as she’d been taught. Breathing in confidence, breathing out fear.

  She remained a tight ball in the blanket until she heard the kettle whistle. In a minute, Grady returned with two steaming mugs. She swung her legs down and held the blanket over her lap.

  Grady put the mugs down and walked around the table to sit beside her. In a gesture she didn’t want to analyze, she threw half of the blanket over his knees. She hoped that didn’t scare him.

  She realized that had been a baseless worry when he moved a little closer and put an arm around her shoulders. “You’re still shaking,” he observed.

  “But not as much. I’m beginning to…” Get over it, was on the tip of her tongue but she bit the words back. That sounded as though she’d had a panic attack or some other frightening event. She’d been on the brink, but she didn’t have to admit to it. He hated fuss.

  He looked down at her face, framed by the crook of his elbow. “You look like you did when you got off the elevator,” he said. “Does thunder have anything to do with your claustrophobia?”

  “No.” She sat up and reached for her tea. “Though I don’t like loud noises, it’s the darkness that’s the real problem for me.”

  “My father used to tell Jack and me when we were children that there’s nothing in the dark that wasn’t there when the lights were on.”

  She told him with a look that that wasn’t always true. “Actually, it’s not fear of someone in the darkness that could hurt me, it’s the oppressive nature of the inky blackness itself. It’s like I’m all wrapped up and closed off. I can’t see ahead, or beside me, or anywhere, to give me some sense of having space. I’m trapped in a void.”

  His frown was sympathetic. “Did something happen to you as a child to cause this condition, or is it just something you’ve always had?”

  “I’m really not sure. I have sort of unformed memories of shouts and screams and other loud noises. I think I was afraid.”

  “If that awareness goes back so far that you have no clear memory, maybe it was from before you were separated from your brother and sister.”

  She’d thought about that. “Could be.”

  “Maybe they know what happened. Why you’re afraid.”

  She sipped at her tea and shrugged. “Yes, but they don’t know about my claustrophobia, remember?”

  “You think that diminishes you somehow? Because it doesn’t.”

  “Yeah, but who wants to go into all that during wedding preparations? It’s better left alone for now.” She was glad Grady sat beside her, comfortingly big.

  “I suppose. Can I ask you a question about your claustrophobia?”

  Lightning lit the path from the kitchen for an instant, and they were both silent, waiting for the thunder. It was loud but a little more delayed and sounding slightly more distant.

  She returned her focus to the conversation. She also noticed that she felt warm and even comfortable again, and that his nearness was…nice.

  “A question. Yes, go ahead.”

  His turn in her direction disturbed the blanket. He pulled it up over her again and leaned his elbow on the back of the sofa. “I don’t get why you’re frightened of elevators and darkness, but you were able to ride in a plane. I mean, I noticed you were tense. But that’s got to be the ultimate nowhere-to-go scenario. Why didn’t that freak you out more?”

  That was tricky to understand. It didn’t even always make sense to her. “First,” she explained, “the plane was part of my therapy when I was an adolescent. I traveled with my father, and the therapist worked with me to make me face my fear. It’s a matter of putting you in a worse situation so you have to deal with it in order to move through it and finally come out the other side.”

  “That doesn’t sound easy.”

  “It isn’t at all, but I did very well. In fact, eventually I thought of myself as cured—until about a month ago when all kinds of major emotional things converged to bring it all back.”

  “You mean the Ireland thing?”

  “Yes, but before that my father was caught in a revolution in Bangkok, where he’d gone to set up the government’s new computer system. For days, there was no communication from him.”

  Grady nodded, touching her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I heard about that. We were all in Texas at the time. That was when Jack and Corie had just located you and were trying to contact him.”

  “I’d noticed that I was having a minor recurrence of my fear. I usually rode the Metro all over Paris, but I couldn’t anymore. I got on to go visit a friend who was no longer modeling, and I had to get off long before my stop, and almost knocked down an old man on my way out. I had to take the stairs everywhere because of my issues with the elevator, and left the light on when I went to bed at night.” She was starting to feel a little agitated.

  “We’ll stop talking about it,” he said, handing her her cup. “Have another sip of tea.”

  “No.” She remembered her therapy. “I have to get to the end of the story. Or at least where we are now.” She smiled thinly as she took her cup from him. “I’m sure this isn’t the end by a long shot.” She sat back, the cup held against her blanket, the other hand wrapped around it.

  “I went to Ireland thinking that I always have great control when I’m working. I’d get rid of this little emotional blip and I’d be fine. But then there was all that hair and makeup stuff I was telling you about.” She sounded distressed even to her own ear. “I had resolved that for myself when I started modeling. That invasion of your space can make you insane, but I’d learned to distance myself from it, to become as much of an object as the pushing, the brushing and patting and painting of me made me feel. The thing was…”

  She stopped and heaved a sigh. “The
thing was,” she said again, “that I was different now. I couldn’t just compartmentalize like I used to because now my emotions were more important, a bigger part of me than they used to be. The thing with my father really scared me. I know my brother and sister had endured so much by the time they were my age, but I hadn’t. That near loss shook the world for me, and even my place in it. I’d started to wonder if I should be away so much. My father and I were all each other had.

  “So, going back to work made things worse instead of better. I was emotional and edgy, and all my old tricks to maintain control weren’t working. Then I got word from my father about Jack and Corie, and how long and hard they’d looked for me. While I was so anxious to see them, I was scared, too, because I was starting to feel like a fraud. All those confident stares into the camera, all those smiling struts along the runway no longer represented the real me.”

  He took the cup from her and placed it on the coffee table, then put his arm around her shoulders again and drew her close.

  “Jack and Corie are crazy about you and very proud of you. Not because you’re a supermodel, but because you’re their little sister.”

  She leaned into him and said gloomily, “Who they think has it all together. And I don’t.”

  “Nobody has it all together. We just try to act like it so that maybe one day it’ll happen. And, anyway, look at all you’ve accomplished so far for the wedding. You’ve got everybody pumped.”

  “That’s only thanks to all my connections.” She raised her head to look into his eyes, his smile coaxing one from her. “I thought you hated all that stuff. Are you pumped?”

  “I have to admit that I am, a little.”

  “But there’s going to be lots more fuss.” She made it sound like a dire warning.

  “I’m resigned to that being my life as long as you’re here.”

  She rested her head against him again. “Something’s missing in my life. Maybe that’s why I’m trying so hard.”

  “What’s that?”