"The Duchess has really taken a shine to you, Cassie," Sylvia said. "You can count that as an honor."
"I like her, too," Cassie murmured, smoothing her fingers over the cat's soft fur, being sure to rub both ears.
"We'd better be goin'," Will said as he settled his hat into place.
"Where you off to?" Robbie asked.
"We're goin' to talk to Ray, Jr., Granddad."
Robbie snorted. "And you think that's gonna work?"
"Do you have any other suggestions?"
"Leave it alone, Dad," Sylvia interjected. "Let them do what they can. And breakfast's on the table, so you need to get a move on before those kids eat it all."
The old man shambled off, shaking his head and grumbling under his breath.
"Well, good luck's all I can say," Sylvia stated. "I hope it'll do some good."
~~~~
CASSIE SENSED WILL'S quick look several times during their drive into town. They were in his blue pickup truck rather than her car because he had said he needed to haul something back to the ranch.
With no bucket seats, she was careful to keep a wide space between them. She was practically hugging the passenger door. The shower had failed to work any miracles, and her shell of professionalism was fragile. She wore another suit, this one a more sober pale gray, and her makeup was back in place, as was every hair. But inside...she was squishy.
Will turned into the parking lot at Reva's, found an open slot, and cut the engine.
"You've been pretty quiet," he said, propping an arm on the back of the bench seat. His hand didn't quite reach her shoulder, but it was close.
"I've been thinking about what to say," she lied.
"And what did you come up with?"
"I've decided to let you take the lead. As you say…you're family. You probably know the best way to approach him."
"I just plan to talk to him."
"Of course." She kept her gaze straight ahead.
There was a pause.
"What's happened to you, Cassie?" he asked softly. "I understand you might not want to have much to do with this town. You probably don't have a lot of good memories. But it's not a bad place."
"We're not here to talk about me," she said tightly.
"Well, maybe we should."
She checked her watch. "It's ten minutes past eight." She reached for the door handle.
"Is it because of what happened yesterday?" he asked.
Her fingers froze on the metal bar. "I'd just as soon not talk about that, if you don't mind."
"What if I do mind?" he countered.
She could hear the smile in his voice, and imagine that slow pull of his lips that made her want to—
"Hey, Will, what are you doin' here?" Ray, Jr. was leaning over to look in the open driver's side window, his fleshy face transformed by a grin.
"Come to see you, Junior, that's what." Will pushed open his door. "Brought some company with me, too." He motioned toward Cassie, who had exited the truck and was on her way to join them.
"Cassie," Ray, Jr. said, his smile fading. The glance he gave Will was uncertain.
"Ray, Jr.," Cassie said.
"We thought we might join you for breakfast," Will said. "That is, if it's okay with you."
"Well, sure," Ray, Jr. agreed, recovering his smile.
The men stood back to let Cassie enter the café ahead of them. She would just as soon have followed because on first glance the room seemed filled with people.
For a few seconds she reverted to her younger self and had to fight a spurt of fear. But she quickly realized that the room contained maybe ten or fifteen people, spread out in groups at several tables, with a couple of singles on counter stools. Only one or two people seemed to have noticed their arrival. Until—
"Mornin', Ray, Jr., you're late!" a man at the most crowded table called, causing his companions—and everyone else—to twist around to see the new arrivals. One chair remained empty at the crowded table, undoubtedly meant for Ray, Jr.
"Will!" a man at another table called out. "Long time no see!"
Cassie could feel the collection of eyes inspecting her, but no one seemed to recognize who she was.
More greetings were exchanged and Will moved to shake various hands. Most were middle-aged or older farmers and stockmen, come to town in their work clothes. Others were local businessmen like Ray, Jr. Baseball caps and cowboy hats ruled the day. The only women present, besides Cassie, were Reva and her helper.
"It's been too long since you paid us a visit," Reva complained to Will as she came over with a steaming carafe of coffee and waited while he and Cassie settled at a table near the front window. Then she filled their cups. Ray, Jr. had stopped off to speak to his friends, but Reva didn't hesitate to fill his cup at their table as well. "The usual, Ray, Jr.?" she called to him. Upon receiving his "You betcha," she looked at Will. "What'll you have, Will?" Then to Cassie, "And you, Miss?"
Their order in hand, she sailed away with an aura of competence that only long years in the business bestowed. A thin woman of indeterminate age with sandy-colored hair and freckles, she ruled her café with an iron hand inside the proverbial velvet glove.
Cassie was hard pressed to find much that had changed inside the place. The tables were topped with the same beige-speckled Formica, the chairs were the same low curved-back wood, and as always the menu was posted above the back counter on either side of a bright red advertisement for Coca-Cola. Napkin holders, salt and pepper shakers, and ashtrays decorated each table, along with plastic holders for packets of sugar and small white bowls filled with tubs of liquid creamer.
After Ray, Jr. rejoined them, he quickly downed several large swallows of coffee.
"Dad's on a tear this morning," he said in explanation. "I'm really needin' this. The hotter, the better!"
"What's he on a tear about this time?" Will asked.
Ray, Jr. sent Cassie a quick look. "Umm. This 'n' that. You know. Business."
"Does it have anythin' to do with the Old Home Place?"
Another quick look at Cassie. "It could," Ray, Jr. said.
"It's your dad we came to talk about, Junior. Just how set is he in refusin' this deal?"
Ray, Jr. fiddled with his cup. "Pretty set. Like I said to her—to Cassie—yesterday morning, he really means it. I haven't seen him this dug in since, well, since I wanted us to start sellin' the knickknack things the church ladies make to all the tourists passing through. You'da thought I was suggesting we sell skin magazines, or something. He hit the roof!"
Reva arrived with their orders and without a wasted movement, set down a plate of fried eggs, grits and sausage in front of Ray, Jr., a similar plate in front of Will, and then moved around to Cassie, where she slid an order of wheat toast onto the table in front of her. "Sorry, Miss," she apologized, quickly supplying Cassie's missing flatware and napkin from those already set out on another table.
Ray, Jr. looked up from peppering his eggs. "Don't you know who this is, Reva? This is Cassie. Our Cassie. Cassie Edwards!"
Reva paused, hands on hips. "No," she said in disbelief. "Our Cassie? I don't believe it."
"Well it's true," Ray, Jr. said and reached for the salt shaker.
If the other regulars in the café hadn't overheard the information for themselves, Reva would be sure to tell them about it...and everyone else she saw in the future, until everyone in the area knew.
Cassie made herself give a small smile. "Hello, Reva," she said and strove to look as poised as she could.
"Well, bless your heart! I never woulda guessed in a thousand years! What brings you back to town? You come to see your momma?"
Cassie's smile faltered; she quickly shored it up. "I've seen her, yes," she said.
She could feel Will's steady gaze. This was one of the moments she had dreaded. And to have him witness it—
"Hey, Reva," he said, shifting his attention to the café owner, "did I forget to order some toast? 'Cause I sure meant to."
Had he done that on purpose? Cassie wondered. Rescuing her by diverting Reva's attention? Will seemed to have an uncanny ability to know when she needed help. But if he could sense that, what else could he sense? She darted a glance at him and was relieved to see that he was eating. His toast soon appeared, and Reva quickly headed to the cash register to accept a departing customer's payment.
Neither man spoke much as they ate, while Cassie spread a little strawberry jam on her toast and nibbled at it. Her stomach didn't want food, but she had to do something.
Finally, as the men finished off their coffee, Will returned to his earlier subject. "You think maybe you could get your dad to see reason, Junior? I'm only askin' because it's important."
Ray, Jr. leaned forward, his gaze probing. "Things are gettin' tight, huh?" he asked.
"Pretty tight."
Ray, Jr. nodded.
"We lost the huntin' lease a couple of weeks ago," Will said. "Waco guy we were workin' with decided his company needs to cut back. He's not gonna be entertaining his customers this fall, or next."
"Ugh!" Ray, Jr. expelled his breath, as if taking a sympathy stomach punch. "You trying to line up someone else?"
"In my spare time," Will answered dryly. "You know how it is, though. It's hard to make a good connection. We never had any trouble with those ol' boys. They stuck to the rules. Always cleaned up after themselves. Never went where they shouldn't. With someone new—" Will shrugged. Then laughed. "If we find anyone, that is."
"I'll keep an ear out for you," Ray, Jr. offered. "See if anyone knows somebody who might be interested."
"I'd appreciate that." Will glanced at Cassie. "Most important right now, though, is to work on Uncle Ray. Maybe get him around to where he'll meet with Cassie again."
Ray, Jr. nodded doubtfully. "I'll try."
Cassie jumped into the conversation herself. "Do you know any specific reason why your father's so adamant?"
"Not really. Nothing that's not—" he shrugged "—you know…the usual."
Cassie sat back. One dead end after another. If only she could convince Jimmy to forget about the prospective purchase. It wasn't as if there weren't other places! But he'd said himself that he had a "feeling" about this property, and he always listened to his feelings because they rarely proved incorrect.
Will motioned to the almost whole order of toast remaining on her plate. "Do you want to finish that?"
"No. I'm through," Cassie said.
They all stood up. Will clapped his cousin on the shoulder. "Good talkin' to you, Junior. How's that new shop doin'?"
For the first time since Ray, Jr. had greeted Will in the parking lot, a wide grin covered his face. "Doin' good, actually. Lot's of people seem to want greeting cards and party supplies. Didn't surprise me, but it did Dad."
"Mom's birthday's comin' up next month. I'll stop by and see what you got next time I'm in town."
"That's great!" Ray, Jr. said, then after checking his watch, curbed his enthusiasm. "Better get going," he said. "Dad'll be wondering where I am." He raised his voice. "Put it all on my tab, Reva, includin' your tip."
Reva, readying a new pot of coffee, waved a hand in agreement.
"You don't need to do that, Junior," Will said, frowning as he reached in his back pocket for his wallet.
Cassie dug in her purse as well.
"Least I can do, don't you think? Everything considered? Not to mention all the meals I used to eat out at your place when your daddy and I were either going out or coming back from one of our huntin' or fishin' trips. I still think on those times as some of the best in my life." He noticed Cassie's extended hand and folded bills. "And you. You didn't eat enough to keep a bird alive. So put that away."
Cassie reluctantly followed his instruction. Further protest would do no good. He was already on his way out the door.
In the parking lot, one of the men from Ray, Jr.'s regular table called Will over to his pickup. Cassie waited on the sidewalk. When Will rejoined her, he looked somewhat abashed.
"Tim Hassat—you remember Tim?—he's asked if I can help him out for a half hour or so over at Swanson's. You can come along, if you want. I'm sure Tim—"
"I'll find something else to do," she cut in.
His pale eyes narrowed. "Could end up bein' closer to an hour. I'm sorry about this, but—"
"Don't worry about it. It's not a problem." Being with him would be the problem. Not that she wanted to be in Love any longer than she had to. Especially now, courtesy of Reva, word about her identity was spreading like wildfire. "I need to buy some things. I only packed enough for three days."
He gave his slow smile that tingled her toes. "That's right. You travel light." He tapped the hood of his truck. "Hop in. I'll give you a lift."
Cassie looked down Main Street. The distance to the store she had in mind was walkable. Only... She'd trudged the full length of that same street too many times as a child with her mother, who even then had refused to have anything to do with the ownership or operation of a car.
"But Swanson's is just across the street," she evaded.
Will held the passenger door open. He saw her inside, went around to get behind the wheel, then, grinning, asked, "Where to?" as the truck started to roll.
After giving him the name of the store, Cassie forgot about her earlier decision to hug the passenger door. She rode along, not thinking of it, until they were past halfway there, and by that time, the idea seemed unnecessary.
"Ray, Jr. has a new business?" she asked, more to break the silence than anything.
Will nodded. "He and Uncle Ray opened it a couple of months ago. This one's supposedly Ray, Jr.'s to run on his own. His 'opportunity to prove himself'."
"I thought your uncle had turned all the businesses over to him some time ago."
Will glanced at her. "Oh, he did, but it's a little hard to tell, since he won't let Ray, Jr. make any of the real decisions. How'd you know about that?"
"I just…heard it."
The truck slowed as they neared the main shopping area in the center of town, then pulled to a stop in one of the diagonal slots.
With the engine still running, Will issued a quiet challenge. "You know a little more about everything happenin' around here than you let on, don't you?"
Cassie knew she'd slipped up and decided to own up to it. What did it matter, when nothing was going according to plan. "It's always best to know all you can about a situation before you enter a negotiation. It gives you a stronger hand."
"So you know about our little problems on the ranch, too."
"I didn't know about you losing the lease."
"Not many people do."
"Is it—" She stopped. She'd be inserting herself too deeply into the situation if she continued with the question. But what the heck? Again, nothing was going according to plan. "I take it, losing the lease is a setback for the ranch."
"On top of everything else? Yes."
Bleakness settled over him, deepening the lines trouble and responsibility had etched on his face. Then, as she continued to watch, he pushed the worry away and was actually smiling again when he met her eyes.
"But that's what we're workin' to fix, isn't it?"
CHAPTER SEVEN
CASSIE EMERGED FROM the shop a half hour later, a bag with enough clothes to see her through a week clasped in her hand. It hadn't taken a lot of time because there wasn't a great variety of choice. Jeans, shorts, T-shirts, skirts, blouses, and a small number of casual dresses—all were on display. But colors and styles were limited. Cassie remembered a time, though, when she had pressed her nose against the front window and dreamed of wearing the more normal clothes rather than her mother's handsewn and mail-order oddities.
Shoes were next, and since the only shoe store in town that she knew of was across the street, she crossed the double lanes carefully, all the while keeping an eye out for Will's truck. He'd tol
d her didn't mind waiting if he was to arrive before she finished, but that was something she didn't want to happen.
Occasionally she received a close look, as if the person seeing her was trying to fit the adult woman with the teenager they remembered. As yet, no one had spoken with her other than the clerk at the clothing shop, and Cassie didn't remember her. She must have been one of the town newcomers Sylvia had mentioned.
Cassie didn't make the situation easy for any of them. She remained aloof, keeping her head up, her chin high, and her gaze straight ahead. If they came away with only one impression, it would be that the grown-up Cassie wasn't about to cower away as she used to. Her insides might feel like jiggling Jell-O, she might be having to battle panic, but she wasn't going to hide.
A blond woman about her age was inside the shoe store with two small children. Cassie recognized her instantly—Lynette Simpson. Mr. Riggins, who'd owned the store forever, barely glanced up from trying to fit the youngest child, a boy of about four, with a pair of boots. The little boy was twisting and kicking and doing everything he could not to stay in the chair. His brother, about a year older, was running around and knocking over displays while screeching at the top of his lungs. Lynette threatened the first with no boots, which seemed to be what he wanted anyway, and the second with a spanking when they got home, which he seemed not to think much of a threat. Mr. Riggins, looking harried, was patient.
Cassie perused the displays that were still standing and waited, her back slightly turned to the mayhem. After five minutes of ear-splitting screeches, thumps, and threats, Cassie heard Lynette say, "Okay, we'll take 'em," having finally reached the breaking point.
The youngest boy wiggled free and, giggling, joined his brother in a chase about the store. They ran wide circles around the chairs until the youngest, zigging when he should have zagged, collided with Cassie's legs.
"Oh, my goodness!" Lynette exclaimed. "Now look what you've done!" She hurried over to where Cassie was rubbing her knee and began to apologize. "I'm so sorry. I hope you weren't hurt bad. My boys, they're just so full of energy!" She stooped to pick up the shoe Cassie had dropped, and when she straightened she looked at Cassie properly for the first time. Recognition dawned. "Cassie? Is that you?" she breathed. "I'd heard— When my mother called to tell me you were in town, I just didn't believe her. But here you are! Right in front of me!"
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