by Kit Morgan
Yet time with Casey had got Jake thinking more about marriage and family. He wanted both, but wasn’t sure if now was the time. He’d like to have his own ranch first, or at least have his family’s built up so he could build a separate house on it. It would be nice for his future kids to be close to their grandmother, one of his mother’s dreams. He wanted to help that dream along. But what chance was there with a woman who’d deceived him … and was now almost three thousand miles away?
He rolled his eyes. A couple of weeks ago the distance meant nothing to him, not once Casey started to get under his skin. Heck, he’d have stayed on at Dixie’s and dated her, maybe married her and set about making his mother’s dream come true. So much for that. He hadn’t seen Casey since the party. He’d been so busy wrapping things up before his return home that he’d lost track of time most days.
The sound of multiple seat belts being unfastened brought him out of his musings. He did the same but didn’t bother getting up – he was near the back of the plane and knew this would take a while. From his seat, he watched a couple several rows ahead chatting happily as they stood. There wasn’t anything special about them, just an average guy and girl, but the sight of them bantering stirred something deep inside him.
Longing.
Casey had been the first woman he’d spent time with that made him want to know her, really know her. He wanted to learn her hopes for the future, how she felt about children, a million other things. He remembered asking her a few of them over coffee and laughing most of the time. He was happy when he was with her, and that counted for a lot. She was so different from the few other girls he’d had time to date.
The passengers in front of him crammed into the aisle as people further up began to disembark. Jake waited a few more minutes for the crowd ahead to thin, then retrieved his bag from the overhead compartment. He looked forward to seeing his family and sleeping in his own bed. What he didn’t look forward to was his mind filling with thoughts of Casey once his head hit the pillow. It happened every night lately, and he had no way to make it stop.
At baggage claim, he picked up his suitcase, then pulled his phone from his back pocket. There was a text from his brother telling him he was waiting nearby. He texted him back to meet him in the passenger pickup area.
Five minutes later, Tate pulled up in the family truck. The passenger side window slid down. “Good to see you, little brother!”
Jake smiled and hefted his suitcase into the bed of the truck, tossing the smaller bag behind his seat as he got in the cab. “Good to see you too. How’s Mom?”
“Anxious. I think she really missed you.”
Jake smiled. “I missed all of you.”
“I didn’t miss you,” his brother teased. “You should’ve seen all the food I ate while you were gone. Mom forgot there was one less mouth to feed. I think I gained five pounds.”
Jake laughed. “Ate for the both of us, eh?”
“Yeah, it was great.”
The airport was only a few miles off the interstate. Tate merged onto the freeway, heading south. Jake knew that as soon as they left I-205 and headed east on I-84, Tate would start asking questions.
It was near three o’clock, so traffic was heavy. Good. This would give Jake more time to relax and enjoy the green around him. After being surrounded by concrete buildings and millions of people for as long as he had, Oregon was a welcome sight indeed.
“So,” Tate said. “Meet anyone while you were there?” He merged onto 84.
Jake smiled to himself. Just a hair early. “I met a lot of people. Dixie’s is a big place – I told you that on the phone after I first got there.”
Tate grinned. “You know what I mean. Mom said you sounded awful distracted every time you called.”
“I wasn’t distracted – I was busy.”
“Bull,” Tate huffed. “What sort of women they have in New York? Are they pretty?”
Jake smiled again and looked at him. “Yeah.”
“Pretty is as pretty does. Are there a lot of snobby women? Mom told me you said something about snobby women.”
Jake gazed out the passenger-side window. “Yeah. One of the clients expected everyone to bow down to her the minute she stepped onto the premises. When she showed up, which was about half the time, poor Miss Williams, the riding instructor, was fit to be tied.”
“I hope she doesn’t come in for a lesson while I’m there.” He glanced at Jake. “I don’t care for people like that.”
“Who does?”
Tate glanced at the road and back. “What kind of look was that?”
Jake shook his head. “A tired one. Sorry, I don’t mean to be crabby.”
Tate grinned again. “Jenny told Mom that if you came back grouchy, it was because of woman problems.”
“Jenny doesn’t know.” Jake flexed his hands a few times to relax. He was not going to talk about Casey, and that was that.
“So who’s Casey?”
“What?” Jake said in shock. “How do you know about her?”
“Jenny. Though I hear she doesn’t know …”
“How does she know?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“She reads your e-mails before Mom does. And you mentioned this Casey person at least a half-dozen times.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “She’s no one important. I told Mom about a lot of different clients – not to mention Miss Williams, the grooms, the horses, the screwy vet …”
“True enough,” his brother agreed, with all the skepticism in the undertones.
Jake felt his face flush red. Leave it to his little sister to put two and two together. “Doesn’t Jenny have anything better to do?”
“Nope.”
Jake sighed. “Great.”
Tate burst out laughing. “So there is something to this Casey girl.”
Jake turned away from his brother to stare out the window, hoping Tate would drop it.
He should live so long. “Did you go out with her?”
Jake yawned – perfect timing. “She’s just a client – a client who treated me badly. And I don’t want to talk about it further, because it just makes me angry.” And heartsick, but he’d rather die than tell his needling family that.
Tate didn’t take the hint. “Just a client, huh? Not according to our sister.”
“I don’t want to talk about it further, I said. Not with you, or Jenny, or Mom, or God or the man in the moon.”
Tate stared at him a moment, his eyes flicking between his brother and the road. “Are you that tired or just that miserable?”
“Both. You won’t be in any better shape when you make that flight, trust me.”
“I’m not looking forward to it. Especially not after seeing what it’s done to you.”
Jake looked at him and smiled. “Let’s stop to eat before we hit the mountain. Then maybe I’ll be a better driving companion.”
“Sounds good to me. I’m not keen on spending the next three hours stuck in this truck with that black cloud you got over your head.”
“That makes two of us.”
They drove east to Gresham, got off the freeway and made their way to State Highway 26. By the time they reached Sandy, the last major town before Mount Hood, Jake was starving. “Why didn’t we stop in Gresham and eat?” he asked as his stomach rumbled.
“You know how much I like my favorite Mexican place.”
“That hole in the wall?” Jake said as they pulled into the parking lot.
“You know you like it too.”
Once they entered the restaurant, Jake’s stomach was rumbling so loud it was embarrassing. Two women were just leaving, heard it and giggled. “Better hit the chips and salsa, stat,” one of them said. He noted her scrubs under her light sweater. She probably worked at one of the hospitals in Gresham.
Tate smacked his arm as the women went out the door. “Pretty, huh?”
“I suppose. A plate of food looks better.” He nodded at the curvy Hispanic girl, who motioned them
to follow her.
Tate was looking at her too, and smacked him on the arm again.
“Stop it, will you?” Jake said, annoyed.
She showed them to a corner table, and had no sooner left than a young man set a basket of warm chips and a small stoneware bowl of salsa down in front of them. Tate laughed. “Wow, that was fast. They must have heard your stomach from back here.”
Jake shook his head, grabbed a few chips and started eating, not even bothering with the salsa.
“Wow, you are hungry,” Tate scooped up some salsa with a chip. “So what’s your overall assessment?”
Jake stopped chewing as Casey popped into his head again. He squinted shut his eyes to erase the image and dipped a chip into the bowl. Tate was obviously asking about Dixie’s. “Decent. Enough to make some money off the place this year.”
“Really? I thought you told Mom it was breaking even.”
“Yes, but they don’t really advertise, and they don’t leverage their clientele to pass the word. With a new website and some good social media, they could do a lot better. I have it all in a binder in my suitcase.” His eyes skimmed the first page of the menu as he downed more chips.
By the time the waitress came to take their orders, the chips and salsa were gone. Jake wished there was some way to get Casey out of his head as easily, but he knew better. Like her or not, she was under his skin, all right.
Chapter 9
Casey descended the steps of the plane and stood on the tarmac. What had she been thinking, telling Melanie she’d take Jake’s advice and leave New York? Had she lost her mind? Maybe, but it was too late now.
She’d arrived with whatever she could pack and hoped it was enough for her new start. She also hoped her father didn’t find out she was gone for a while. Good thing he wasn’t speaking to her at the moment – for now, his silence worked in her favor. She had no idea what he’d do once he found out she’d left the city – maybe never speak to her again ever? That was a risk she was happy to take.
Her heart sank as she headed across the tarmac, her high heels clicking loudly and making her feel self-conscious. Most of her fellow passengers were dressed in T-shirts, jeans, scuffed-up boots or tennis shoes. She felt out of place in her nice pantsuit, but there was nothing to be done about it. At least a few businessmen in suits had been on board.
Only two airlines flew into this isolated airport, and she winced at its tiny terminal. “Well, Jake,” she muttered to herself. “I hope you gave me good advice.” She made her way inside, found the baggage claim area and prayed the town had a taxi service. If it didn’t, she’d just have to hope an Uber driver lived there. Walking was no option, not in $500 Jimmy Choo heels – besides, she wasn’t even sure where her new place was. The price she paid arranging everything sight unseen, online and by phone.
Once outside the terminal with her bags, she looked up her new address on her phone, then did a quick search and found several taxi services and one limousine service … all based in the next town over, twenty miles away. “Really? Are you kidding me? You’d think a town of almost 30,000 people would have one taxi service!” She wanted to stomp her foot, but with her luck she’d break a heel. “Fine,” she snarled, brought up Uber and Lyft … and neither one had a single driver any closer! How far removed from civilization was she here?!
She went with her only option, calling one of the cab companies. It would cost her a mint, but what was money? Except she didn’t have much left and was trying to make it stretch, something she’d never had to do in her life. But here she was, about to embark on a whole new way of living in a town she’d never heard of, all because of what one man said. The question was, was she an idiot for doing so?
After about thirty minutes, her driver showed up to take her the less than ten minutes to her new apartment. Talk about rubbing salt in the wound – she felt foolish enough at this point without feeling any more so. But Fate didn’t seem to care; if anything, it was ready to pile on. The address belonged to a dilapidated antique store. “What’s this? Where are we?”
“This is the address ya gave me, ma’am,” the driver said.
“But … where’s my apartment building?”
The cabbie took his baseball cap off, poked his head out the window and looked up. “Up on the second floor, I’d reckon.”
Casey’s eyes went wide. “What?!” She rolled down her window, and sure enough, there appeared to be some sort of living space over the store. “Great.” She sat back in her seat and swallowed hard. “You’re sure this is it?”
“Yes, ma’am. Shall I get yer bags out o’ the trunk?”
Casey dug through her purse for the keys the landlord had mailed her. Online, the apartment looked so cute, just what she was looking for. She racked her brain, trying to remember if there were any photos of the building’s exterior. Now that she thought about it, no – just some shots of the street.
She glanced around. Sure enough, her surroundings looked familiar. Thankfully, they also looked quite charming. It was a side street close to what passed for downtown, with a few other boutique-like businesses and a franchise coffee shop. The antique shop sat between a hair and nail salon and what looked like a deli. But right now she was more concerned with whether or not she’d been scammed. Worse, that she’d let herself be.
She got out of the car. The cabbie followed suit, went to the back and took her luggage out of the trunk. “Here ya go.”
“Do me a favor and wait here a minute,” she asked.
He glanced at the second story of the building. “Uh … do I hafta?”
She cast a worried glance at it too. “Yes.” She quickly studied the keys in her hands, then spied the door off to one side of the antique shop. “That must be the way in.”
The driver hefted her large suitcase and matching carry-on onto the sidewalk. “Must be,” he agreed, then returned to the cab and slammed the trunk closed. “Ya got everythin’, ma’am?”
Casey looked at her belongings. “Yes, but don’t go anywhere!” She tried one key of the three on the ring, but it didn’t fit. What did she need three for? The place looked like it only needed two.
The second key worked. “Oh good, I am in the right place.”
“Yep,” the driver said behind her.
She glanced at him, then at her purse. “I’ll give you an extra five dollars if you carry my suitcase up for me.”
He shrugged. “Sure, why not?” He fetched it as she opened the door into a hallway with a white staircase that looked like it predated radio, and nothing else. The driver headed straight for it. Casey retrieved her carry-on and followed.
At the top of the stairs was a small landing and a very old door. “How fitting this is over an antique shop,” she muttered. She unlocked it on the first try, stepped inside and breathed another sigh of relief – yes, this was the apartment she’d seen online.
The driver set her suitcase just inside the door, then held out his hand expectantly. Casey reached into her purse and slapped some money into it. The driver looked at it and smiled. “Thanks, ma’am.” With a tip of his cap, he was off.
She closed the door behind her and surveyed her new home. In truth, it didn’t look much different than a lot of apartments in New York – even being over a storefront wasn’t unusual. What was different was not having much outside of it. In New York everything a person needed, or at least a way to get to it, was within a two-block radius. If it wasn’t a short walk away, it was still just a short walk to the subway or a taxi stand. As she’d told Jake, she’d never needed a car. But here was another story.
She walked to the front windows overlooking the street below. Not one person was in sight, just a few cars parked here and there along the curb. It gave her an eerie sense of foreboding, an emptiness in the pit of her stomach.
She turned to examine the furniture the place came with. There was a small couch against one wall, covered with tiny flowers – it looked old but comfy. A small dining table with two chairs was aga
inst the opposite wall near the small kitchen. A bookcase completed the living room ensemble. The bedroom had a full-sized bed, dresser and nightstand that had likely been abandoned there in the Seventies, all of them padded with olive-green vinyl. She quickly dubbed the ensemble “pea-soup bliss” as a way to come to grips with having to sleep in there – adding a fashion twist was all she could think of.
Casey went back into her living/dining area and took a deep breath. “Well, here I am. Home sweet home.”
“How’s Charlie doing?”
“He’s fine – everyone’s fine,” Miss Williams replied over Skype. “We even picked up two new clients and one boarder this week.”
“That’s great,” Jake said. “The new website is helping?”
“That and the ads we’re running. I’m glad we took them out.”
“So am I.” He paused and scratched his head.
“Is there anything else?”
“Um … how are the other clients doing? How’s your little band of … what did you call them last time we talked … debutantes?”
“Oh yes, those. They’re fine. One less in the stable though.”
Jake sat up at that. “One less – what do you mean?”
“Casey Woodrow finished a few more lessons and quit. Not a surprise, really – her enthusiasm was flagging.”
Jake tried to keep a poker face. So that was it – no more Casey. Would he ever see her again? Probably not. “What about her friend Melanie?”
“Oh, Miss Haeger’s still here – she’s been here longer than I have,” Miss Williams said with a laugh.
He thought a moment, mainly on how not to sound desperate. “Did she say why Miss Woodrow quit? Did you ask Miss Woodrow why?”
“I didn’t have to ask anybody anything. Miss Woodrow moved.”
Jake froze, his mind racing. “Moved? Where?”
“I don’t know, or care. It’s none of my business, really. What I care about is filling that time slot.”