Cassie's Hope (Riders Up)

by Kraft, Adriana

  Sipping his coffee, Clint leaned back and glanced with approval at the greenery of the yard and pastures stretching out from the dull red barn. “If you’d want,” he offered, “I could represent you at the Barretts Fall Sale in October. There’ll likely be some fine yearlings and well bred broodmares coming through the ring there.”

  Tug smiled. Scratching his chin thoughtfully, he confided, “I kinda always wanted to do that someday. Never been much for sales. I like to grow my own. But I’m gettin’ long in years for growin’ much. Maybe Cassie’d like to work with some better quality horses.”

  Looking at the other man sharply, Clint raised his eyebrows. “You don’t think this is just a six month thing with Cass, do you?”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” The old man ran a hand up and down his arm. He hesitated. “My daughter’s still tryin’ to find herself. This life is in her blood just as surely as a Pulpit filly is going to show stamina and distance. I’ll put my money on my girl takin’ this racing stable to a new plateau.” He stopped long enough for Clint to blink. “You wanna take that bet?”

  “Not at all,” Clint said. He wasn’t sure he liked what the old man had in mind. If Cassie really took a strong interest in a horse training career, would that make it easier for them to forge their future together? Or more difficult?

  Answers remained hazy. But it was very clear her dad was as crafty and cagey as his own grandmother. Both were forces not to be underestimated. There were moments when he, too, believed that horses were in Cassie’s blood, even if she wasn’t ready to own that fact.

  “Whatever Cassie winds up doing, we have to nab whoever’s trying to mess it up for her,” Clint said, refocusing their conversation on something they could do something about.

  “You’re right about that.” The old man nodded apprehensively.

  Getting up from his chair, Clint suggested, “Let’s go into the kitchen table where we can spread papers out for you to look at. I’ve been compiling a number of lists. Maybe something will pop out at you.”

  “Sounds fine to me,” Tug muttered, “I need a coffee refill anyway.”

  Clint studied the older man as he eyeballed the lists. Cassie’s father might still be recovering from a stroke, but there wasn’t anything wrong with his mind. He ran a finger down each list, pausing over a name now and then. He cussed at a few and smiled at others. Clearly, he was reliving old friendships and old enmities, and that was precisely what Clint had hoped for. Maybe something helpful would emerge from prodding those memories.

  “So, you don’t know of any old scores to be settled, or trainers who are simply jealous, or jocks who thought they were treated unfairly? No name jumps out from those lists of trainers, jockeys and owners?”

  “Nope, nothin’ rings a bell,” Tug said, handing the sheets of paper back to Clint. “I coulda missed somethin’, but I don’t think this thing is personal.” His voice thickened. “Someone just doesn’t wanna compete against one of the best horses on the backstretch.”

  “Yeah, guess so,” Clint said, draining his cup of coffee. “I think we’ll know for sure soon enough.”

  “What’s your plan?” Tug leaned forward over the kitchen table. “I knew you’d come up with somethin’.”

  “I’ve checked with the stewards. They’ve agreed for us to have two video cameras trained on the paddock area and on the filly throughout the post parade and at the starting gate. It took some persuading, but they realize that track detectives are known by almost everyone at the track except the casual bettor. We’ll be less obvious. I’ll be very surprised if we come up empty. Of course, there may be no attempt to drug the horse on Saturday. They may wait until the Land of Lincoln.”

  Tug shook his head. “No, I think they’ll try. It’s a feelin’, I suppose. Almost like the challenge to get away with it is bigger than the result. Sort of like a bettor or a trainer keeps bettin’ or pushin’ a horse ‘cause they don’t think they can lose.”

  “You may be right. This may be about things we haven’t even considered. Somebody is going a long way to see that a horse doesn’t perform well. Not in just one race. It’s like they want to destroy the horse’s career.”

  The old man laughed and then wheezed. He struggled to catch his breath and then lifted his coffee cup in a mock toasting gesture. “Sort of like that backstabbin’ Harrington tryin’ to get Cassie to believe you were behind it all. He’d like to put his brand on Cass, but that’ll never happen.”

  “What!” Clint exclaimed. A sudden chill filled the room. “Cassie thought I drugged the horse? I wasn’t even here.”

  He felt the blood leave his face and stood to catch his breath. Backing against the kitchen sink, rubbing his brow with taut fingers, he gasped for air. “She thought I did it?”

  “Only briefly, until I set her straight. Well,” Tug backpedaled, “I doubt if she actually ever believed it. Though Harrington told her you didn’t have to be here to do it. You could’ve paid someone to do the dirty work. He said you might be tryin’ to stop her from trainin’ horses so she would go away with you.”

  The old man coughed loudly. “Course, I pointed out to Cass that Harrington could have the exact same motivation, make her fail so he could take over our horses and come to the aid of a fair lady in distress.”

  Tug scowled at Clint. “Now, I don’t for a minute believe Cass really thought you were behind all our troubles.”

  Clint hardly heard Tug’s efforts to qualify his earlier words. A wave of hurt and rage washed through his body. His chest collapsed and his brain could not put two coherent thoughts together. He glanced down at his quivering hands.

  “Thank you, Mr. O’Hanlon,” Clint mumbled through clenched teeth. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

  - o -

  Cassie sat in the visitor’s lounge hugging the young slim girl tightly to her body. After Daisy’s stomach had been pumped of enough amphetamines to kill her, she’d been transferred to a secure residential treatment center.

  In spite of how much Raul had teased Cassie about coming back to the group home before her leave was up, he’d seldom called on her, even in times of serious crises during the past several weeks. But Daisy’s case had gone beyond serious, and Cassie was one of the few people who had a relationship with the girl that might make a difference. He and Cassie had always discounted Daisy’s contention that her half sister would eventually want her to come live with her.

  Cassie had heard that fantasy from the moment the waif of a girl had stepped through the doorway over a year before. “As soon as Maxine is settled in, I’m out of here,” was the story. And no amount of reasoning could dissuade her from that notion. She’d clung to it like a life preserver.

  Raul said the call had come in around six o’clock the prior evening. Daisy’s sister didn’t want to hear from her again. They hadn’t lived together since their grandmother died. Maxine was getting on with her life, and she expected Daisy to do the same, one way or the other.

  Daisy had gone berserk, screaming, pulling the phone out of the wall and dashing out of the house. The evening staff were unable to locate her. The police had been called.

  Finally, long after dark, Daisy had been found lying face up in the grass near the intersection of Forty Seventh Street and Lake Shore Drive, rain pelting her unconscious body. She was lucky she hadn’t died of hypothermia. Ironically, maybe the drugs had kept her body humming enough to resist the chill.

  Now Raul had finally gone home to get some much needed rest. Daisy was certainly safe where she was. And she would likely be there under observation for at least thirty days. Cassie had already gotten a commitment from her to cooperate with staff. The suicide attempt was a cry for help. Now the question was whether Daisy would accept the help given her.

  “You knew all along, didn’t you?” Daisy sobbed softly. “That Maxine wouldn’t take me in.”

  “Not for sure.” Cassie said, rubbing the girl’s back. “But I was afraid this might happen. That’s why I talked so much
to you about thinking through all your options.”

  “But I didn’t listen.”

  “No, not much.”

  “Guess I’ve really made a mess of things this time.”

  “I’m just happy they found you in time. We need to look ahead, not back.” Cassie’s own words jarred her like alarms from a dozen clocks. What nonsense. Hadn’t that advice been at the core of many of her own difficulties? People who loved her didn’t want to talk about the past, so it just hung there like a large millstone around her neck. No, she would do better than that by Daisy.

  “What I just said—about not looking back—that was wrong. You’ll need to look into your past to understand what went wrong last night. But you don’t have to remain mired down by it, either. We all have to look at our demons, maybe name them, maybe make peace with them, and then move on. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

  The girl nodded. “I think so. Will you help me do that? Try to understand what happened, and move on.”

  “Of course I will. And Raul will help. And the folks working here will also help. The important thing to know right now is that you are not alone. You have a lot of people who care about you and love you.”

  “I feel so stupid,” Daisy said, glancing away from Cassie. “Maybe I knew all along that Maxine wouldn’t take me. Maybe I just didn’t want to believe. Maybe I was afraid to believe.”

  Daisy scrunched her thin legs up against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, holding herself rigid. “Stupid. Not just alone, but really dumb. Embarrassed. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t think. I know I raged and made a big scene. I just wanted out of there, big time. Just away, where no one could see me or would tell me I told you so.”

  “That had to be a terrible time for you. It must have been a night of pure terror.” Cassie smiled softly and held the girl’s hands. “And all that you say about knowing and not wanting to believe may be true. But it’s not important to figure it all out at once. You’ve got plenty of time. Let’s not try to press it. You’re not alone. You’re safe. You’re loved. And you want to get your life together. That’s a very good start.”

  “So after this place, will they send me to another foster home, or can I go back to the group home with you and Raul?” The girl’s voice rose with a modicum of hope.

  Cassie shuddered. She wished she could tell Daisy what she wanted to hear, but she couldn’t. “To be honest, I’m not sure. It’s far too early to tell. You’re fifteen. It’s unlikely the court will allow you to live on your own. Perhaps we could get approval to start working with you toward some kind of supported emancipation when you’re sixteen. But I’m sure there must be some foster parents out there who would love to have a girl like you.”

  “Right. Fat chance of that.” Daisy’s face fell. “Like only those who want the money would take me. I’d rather stay at the home with you guys. All I want is to be some place where people care for each other.”

  “I know, honey,” Cassie said, lifting the girl’s chin up so she could look her in the eye. “I promise that I will do what I can to make sure that happens. Will you promise to do your best to be honest with the folks around here and work on your stuff? They will likely give you a lot of tests. Don’t play games with them. Let’s get you back on your feet and out of here so you can get on with putting your life together. Okay?”

  “‘Kay, I’ll do my best,” Daisy whispered, a slight grin crossing her lips.

  “Good, that’s all anyone can hope for. Come give me another hug. It looks like this nice young fellow is here to talk with you,” Cassie said, nodding in the direction of a counselor. “Staff will probably keep you quite busy for awhile. I’ll check in on you in a day or two. People here have Raul’s number and mine. If you need to talk to one of us, don’t hesitate to call. You take care.”

  “Yeah, you too.”

  - o -

  “I want them on the next plane back to Salt Lake.” Clint kept his voice calm and level with great effort but refused to meet his sister’s gaze in the Palmer House suite.

  “Aren’t you overreacting some?” Silver Hawk asked. “Your pain is obvious. But have you talked to Cass? Have you heard her side of the story? Have you given her a chance to explain?”

  “There’s nothing to explain,” Clint responded coldly.

  “I’m supposed to run one of the video cameras on Saturday, remember?” Silver Hawk stood her ground.

  “I’ll hire someone. We’ll catch the bastard.” He closed his hands into fists and opened them slowly. “I want to see her face when she learns that it’s not me who’s drugging her damn horse.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to shock her,” his sister said, hands on her hips. “I know the mood you’re in. You’re hurt and confused, and you’ve shut down. Don’t do something stupid you’ll regret for the rest of your life. You’ve got an incredible woman ready to love you. Don’t throw her away by being a stubborn ass.”

  Absently, Clint ran a hand through his thick hair. “Thought you didn’t like her.”

  “I told you that wasn’t true. I just didn’t know her. Now I do, maybe better than you.” Silver Hawk arched an eyebrow. “Apparently, much better than you. You’re letting hurt and rage blind you to your own heart.”

  “Enough of this!” Clint declared. “You don’t understand. It’s a matter of honor. Let’s get the kids packed.”

  “We don’t want to go,” Lester said tearfully. He and his sister had been listening to the loud voices from the other side of the adjoining bedroom door and now they stood in the open doorway.

  Sammy ran toward Clint and threw her arms around his legs. “Don’t make us go away. Ms. Cassie is a good woman. She wouldn’t hurt you, Daddy. She gives warm hugs.”

  Clint knelt on one knee, holding a child in each arm. He didn’t like seeing their tears, but they were young. “I’m sorry, kids,” he said, more gruffly than he intended. “I wouldn’t have brought you out here if I’d known this was going to happen. You’re too young to understand. Someday maybe I can do a better job of helping you with that. But now you’ll have to trust me. It’s best that you go back home to Grandmother. Your aunt will see that you get there safely. I’ll be home just as soon as I can.”

  “But…” both children protested.

  “No, there will be no debating this,” Clint said firmly, standing abruptly. “Now run along. There’s a lot to be done to get you on one of the afternoon flights.”

  Clint walked toward the bathroom trying to ignore the sobs coming from his children, who threw stuff into their duffel bags haphazardly. He also worked at avoiding the frigid stare of his sister. Why didn’t anyone understand what he was going through?

  The woman with whom he’d hoped to live out his life couldn’t trust him—she’d played him for a fool. And now his own family was turning against him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  After a half eaten supper, Cassie sat down to write in her journal. Her life was in such a turmoil she didn’t know which problem to try to solve first. Daisy had been on her mind ever since she’d left the care facility. The young girl had a rough road ahead of her, but with proper support, she would make it.

  The youngster had demonstrated resilience and courage over and over again. Would the court let her stay at the group home? The cost of services there was much more expensive than in a foster home. Cassie hoped she could stay long enough for them to develop a good transition plan. Daisy would need some help, probably a lot of help.

  While she’d been feeding the horses before supper, a wild question had popped in her mind. If I wasn’t working at the group home, would I apply to be foster parent for Daisy? It would only be a two year commitment or so. Cassie remembered laughing at that thought. If she became the girl’s foster mother, it would be a lifelong commitment, and she knew it.

  The idea niggled at her. She scribbled in her journal.

  Apartment. She quickly put a line through that. Her Chicago apartment was almost too smal
l for one person, let alone two.

  McHenry farm. Yes, she could imagine living there, particularly if she didn’t have to commute into the city every day. And there were plenty of social work jobs out in this area, too.

  Utah.

  Utah! “My goodness,” Cassie gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. She hadn’t thought much of Clint in the midst of Daisy’s crisis.

  She recalled Ashton’s words, What are you running from? Had she been running from commitment? And yet here she was, considering at least the remote possibility of turning her life upside down for a girl who had little hope. If she could even fantasize about taking Daisy into her life, why not Sammy and Lester?

  God, there was so much to resolve. Was she really a woman of courage? Was Clint really the right man? She knew the answer to that: yes!

  What about motherhood? She wasn’t her mother. She knew that now. There was no genetic rule saying she had to repeat her mother’s mistakes.

  The image of Daisy lying unconscious in the rain fixed in her mind. She never wanted anything remotely like that to happen to Lester or Sammy. They wanted and needed the same thing Daisy did—a place where people cared for one another. She needed that, herself.

  Cassie thought back to her work with a yearling in the round pen earlier in the week and a sudden insight hit her. To train a horse, you had to have some basic knowledge, but the good trainer listened and responded to the animal with her heart. The same could be said for raising children. She knew the basics. But more importantly, she already responded to Lester and Sammy with her heart. She would never be their mother, but she could be a very good step-mom.

  Tears formed in Cassie’s eyes and her fingers cramped from gripping the pen so hard. Why had it taken her so long to see what apparently so many others had seen for some time? She loved him with her total being. And she loved his children. They could make a future together. They had to.