by Lori Wick
“How is my mother?”
“The same. Some days I’m glad about that, and some days it makes me mourn.”
Trace had taken the small sofa in Jeanette’s office, and she had taken a nearby chair. It was quiet for a moment, but then Trace asked a question of Jeanette that he sometimes asked of himself.
“Do you ever wish she would just die and be done?” Trace asked.
“Not so much now. I did at first, when it seemed she was in so much pain. I don’t know why she’s still here. I don’t think it’s for her. I think God wants to teach me some things.”
Trace nodded. He’d had some of the same thoughts but never quite knew what to do with them.
“Do you think she’s in pain when she cries and frets?”
“I don’t know. I guess she must be remembering something. It’s at those times I think she might return to us, but it’s never happened.”
“Sometimes I think that would be great, and sometimes the idea scares me.”
“Why does it scare you?”
“If she could speak, I would want—and probably expect—her to be the mother she was.” Trace shrugged a little. “That’s highly unlikely. I would never want her to think I’m disappointed in her. My father already did too much of that.”
“How much do you remember about their marriage, Trace? I mean, I don’t think of teenage boys as being observant.”
“We weren’t, but things come trickling back. He was a restless man, and I remember the looks on her face. She felt like a failure, and my father did that to her.”
“I don’t know why they married,” Jeanette admitted. “It was not something I ever wanted to ask. I just wanted to support her, and I was glad when she moved close enough so I could.”
The room was quiet for a time, but Jeanette was not done.
“Brad has chosen better. He’s chosen to follow God first and then find a wife. He and Meg will never be where your parents were.”
“You’re right about that,” Trace agreed, knowing it to be very true.
“And you, Trace. You’ll be the same way. If you and Cassidy marry, your marriage will be wonderful.”
“It sounds like you’re doubting.” Trace had to mention the obvious.
“I didn’t mean to say ‘if.’ I’m sure it will happen.”
“But you have something else on your mind,” Trace said, having watched her carefully.
“Only what a hard time this has been. Cassidy is strong—she’ll put it behind her—but it might take a little time.”
Trace nodded but didn’t speak. He didn’t doubt that Cassidy was the woman for him. He knew their life together would be wonderful, but he had not been around to meet her brother or see the full effect his visit to Token Creek had had on her life.
Trace eventually went in to visit with his mother, but his mind was still on Cassidy, and how slowly he might have to be willing to go.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I DIDN’T KNOW HOW MUCH could go on in two weeks' time,” Trace said when he and Chandler had made themselves comfortable in the hotel dining room.
“I don’t know about two weeks ago, but life changed for me when Edson Sinclair walked into my bank last week.”
“Why was that, Chandler?” Trace asked, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Up to that point, I thought Cassidy was who she said she was.”
“And why does Cassidy’s having another last name change who she is?”
“It’s not that simple, Trace,” Chandler said. He truly hated to disillusion the man about Cassidy, but it had to be said. “You don’t know the things her brother told me. The very money she used to start her business is money she earned while helping him.”
“And you have this on Edson Sinclair’s authority?” Trace asked, glad that Meg had spilled all she knew.
“Yes,” Chandler said, not sure he liked Trace’s tone and doubting himself for the first time.
“So you take the word of a known swindler over Cassidy’s.”
“I went to Cassidy. I asked her, and she would not explain.”
“Asked or attacked?”
“Asked,” the banker said, but he knew it wasn’t the full truth. His had been questions, but he’d been emotional and his mind had been made up.
“When has Cassidy ever refused to answer your questions?” Trace asked pointedly. “That alone should have told you something was wrong.”
“Her brother is Edson Sinclair,” Chandler stated slowly, as if this explained everything. “If she’s so innocent, why did she hide that from all of us?”
“She didn’t. Meg has known Cassie’s full story all along. I believe Rylan has known too,” Trace added, willing to bet that when the two of them talked alone on that Sunday many weeks past, Cassidy had told their pastor her story.
While Chandler was digesting this, Trace laid it on the line.
“Cassidy did not tell me everything you said—only she did ask me if I was still her friend. When I wanted to know why she would even think such a thing, she made it clear that you were the reason. We’re not talking about some business associate here or a bank customer. You went to a sister in Christ in such a way that she now doubts your friendship. You’ve got some repair work to do.”
Their meal arrived just then, the kitchen running way behind, but Chandler didn’t touch his. He had honestly felt betrayed. Everything Edson said had made complete sense. But that wasn’t the worst part. He’d not given Cassidy a chance to explain. He’d gone to her in agitation and attacked when the town had already deserted her.
“I have to talk to her,” Chandler said at last.
“I’m glad you plan to do that, but there’s one other thing you need to know: I made my feelings clear to Cassie this morning, and I was not rejected.”
Chandler nodded, not sure how he felt about this. He cared for Cassidy and had wondered if there could be more between them, but he’d never acted on it or even talked to her about it—he’d just assumed she would always be there. Now it was too late.
“I didn’t know you felt that way,” Chandler said at last.
“For a long time,” Trace admitted.
Chandler realized he was disappointed in himself, but he also saw something else: Trace was a good friend. Not many men were willing to put things on the table the way he’d done today. And Chandler, having realized what he needed to do, found his heart unburdened for the first time in days. He went ahead and ate his lunch, using the excuse to pray. He was confessing to God how wrong he’d been and asking Him to give him the words to make things right with Cassidy Norton that very day.
“Welcome back,” Rylan said to Trace when he tracked him down in the livery.
“Thank you. How are you?”
Rylan smiled. “It’s been an interesting time,” the big man admitted. “I’m doing well, but it’s not been easy.”
“I’ve heard some of it from Meg and Cassie. A lot certainly went on.”
“How is Cass today?”
“Doing well. I’ll see her again before I leave town.”
“Trace.” Rylan’s voice grew serious. “Someone from the church family was pretty hard on her. I don’t know who. Did she talk to you about that?”
“Yes. It’s been taken care of.”
“Good.” The word was said with heartfelt sincerity. “I was very concerned and seriously considered bringing it up on Sunday morning. We can’t have that and still grow in unity and holiness.”
“You might end up hearing about it,” Trace said, realizing such an action on Chandler’s part would not surprise him. “But I think it’s being taken care of right now.”
“Good,” Rylan said again, his heart remarkably blessed that folks were making such choices. He didn’t need to know the facts, only that whoever had hurt Cassidy was making sure that not another day passed without reparations.
“Hi, Cassidy,” Chandler said when he got to the shop. He’d planned to come right away, but Mr. Falcone had
had to take his dinner. Nevertheless, Cassidy was alone.
“Hello, Chandler,” the seamstress said. She stood up from the sewing machine but was still keeping her distance.
“I’ve come to apologize to you,” Chandler wasted no time in saying. “I was harsh on Saturday and didn’t even let you talk. I’m very sorry.”
“Thank you, Chandler. I appreciate that.”
Chandler looked into her thin, pale face, and really saw for the first time how this had taken its toll. Not asking, but wanting them to be back on their old footing, Chandler took a chair. Cassidy sat back down at the machine and waited.
“How did two people like Cassidy Norton and Edson Sinclair come from the same family?”
Cassidy had to smile a little. “Edson was out of control from the time he was little. My father, who’s dead now, was never around. He gambled a lot, and my mother had to work so we could eat. Edson and I were on our own quite a bit. I would wait for the times when my mother could be home, but Edson was always off getting into trouble.”
“Did he not feel any responsibility as your older brother?” Chandler asked, thinking of his own younger sisters.
“I’m older,” Cassidy surprised him by saying.
Chandler looked as stunned as he felt. “But you’re only twenty-three.”
“Yes, and Edson is twenty-one. He’s always looked older, and he started conning people and making a name for himself at a very young age.”
Chandler was out of words. He thought about the man who had come to his bank and realized he would never have guessed. A woman walked by the window just then, and Chandler was pulled back to the present.
“How is business? Pretty slow?”
“Yes. I’ve only had one person place an order this week. Someone did come to pick up something she’d ordered last week, but it’s been very quiet.”
“How long can you last?”
“No more than two months.”
It was on Chandler’s tongue to say that maybe she’d be married by then, but he didn’t think he could do that and not give himself away. He deeply regretted not pursuing Cassidy long before now.
“It looks like you’re working right now,” he said instead.
“Yes. Thankfully the order I received was fairly large.”
“I’m glad,” Chandler said as he stood. “If there’s anything I can do, Cass, please tell me.”
“Thank you, Chandler. You’ve already been a huge help.”
Chandler said goodbye, and Cassidy saw him to the door. The days were cooling fast, but she still stood outside, looking up and down the street. Token Creek looked the same to her, busy as ever. It was within her shop that things had changed.
Going back inside, Cassidy started again on Hiram Brickel’s pants, but she’d made up her mind. She would do as she said and not even open the shop in the morning so she could spend the entire day at the ranch.
“How are you?” Trace asked when he found Cassidy alone in the afternoon, putting a hem in a pair of men’s pants. He’d spent all day in town and needed to get home soon, but not without seeing this woman.
“I’m doing fine. How was your day?”
“My day was great,” Trace said, smiling into her eyes.
Cassidy smiled back, sensing a new feeling of freedom inside her to do so.
“Did Chandler come?” Trace asked.
“Yes. Thank you for taking care of that.”
“Did your conversation get at all personal?”
“No, nothing like that. Did you think it would?”
“Well, I’m not sure he was overly pleased with all of what I said.” Trace looked at her. “You’re sure you don’t have special feelings for him?”
“Very sure,” Cassidy said.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Trace said, a smile starting.
Cassidy watched him, her heart doing funny things in her chest.
Trace saw the warmth in her eyes and knew he had to leave.
“I’d better get going.”
“All right. I’ll be out tomorrow.”
“I’m counting on that.”
Cassidy smiled at his tone but also admitted, “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“That makes two of us.” Wanting to stay, Trace made himself say, “Have a good night, Cassie.”
“You too.”
Trace wanted to hug and kiss her in the worst way, but he forced himself not to. With just a gentle touch to her cheek again, using just one finger, he moved toward the door.
Cassidy didn’t move at all. Her heart was still acting up inside her chest, and at the moment she couldn’t feel her feet on the floor.
“I kissed Cassidy,” Trace announced at the supper table that night as though he were discussing the weather.
“What brought that about?” Brad asked.
“I found out she doesn’t have feelings for Chandler.”
“So you talked?” Meg asked.
“Not much,” Trace admitted.
“You kissed but you didn’t talk?” Meg clarified.
Trace nodded, and Meg looked at him. She then looked at her husband but still didn’t speak. Her face thoughtful and a little confused, she went back to her food.
“Well,” Brad said slowly, “you’ve done just what a man would do, Trace.”
“We didn’t keep kissing.” He knew he had to explain a little. “But the door is open, even if I didn’t do it in the right way.”
He sounded so uncertain that Meg bit her lip. Nevertheless, she had to ask about her friend.
“And Cassie’s okay?”
“She was by the end of the day. She cried a lot when I saw her this morning, and she says she has a lot to tell me. I told her we have time. I didn’t know any other way to stake my claim. At least I don’t have to hold back in the same way. At least I know she’d welcome my suit.”
“Meg?” Brad had seen the tears flood his wife’s eyes. “Are these tears okay, or are you upset with Trace?”
“I’m not upset,” she managed before she broke down. Savanna began to fuss from her cradle in the living room, and Meg was glad for an excuse to escape.
Trace watched her go and then looked at his brother. “You’re sure she’s all right with me?”
“Ah, Trace,” Brad said, wondering how he could explain. “We’ve wanted this for so long. We knew Cass was the one, but Meg never wanted to ask her and risk putting some kind of strain between the two of you.
“And all of this doesn’t change the fact that Cass has just been through a huge ordeal. Meg’s not questioning your motives, just your timing.”
Trace nodded, glad he’d asked. Without Brad and Meg’s blessing he would not proceed. And he needed Meg’s take on things. She knew Cassidy well and had been around for the ordeal, as Brad put it.
“I’m sorry.” Meg came back, the baby in her arms. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“I’ll take her,” Trace offered, no longer hungry. He settled Savanna on one arm, kissing her brow and seeing that she was already headed back to sleep. When he looked up, Meg was staring at him.
“I love you, Trace,” she whispered.
“I love you too, Meg.”
Meg’s tears had started again, but she forced herself to go back to her supper. Brad finished his as well, but he didn’t taste a thing. His eyes were on his wife, and his mind was asking God to help them in every way. The next few weeks were sure to be as eventful as the last.
“Oh, hi, Pastor,” Cassidy said when she answered the knock on her door that evening.
“Hey, Cassie, is this a bad time to join me for a walk?”
“Not at all. Let me grab a sweater.”
“I didn’t get a chance to come by the shop today,” Rylan explained when she came out and they walked down the stairs. “But I wanted to know how you are.”
“I’m doing well, thank you, Pastor Rylan.”
“I’m glad. Trace stopped by and said you were, but I thought I would check.”
“I appreciate it. He took care of something specific today that had been weighing on me. That was very helpful.”
“That’s good news. Do you think you’ve seen the last of your brother?”
“Yes. He moves around a lot, and I doubt he’ll see a reason to come back.”
“And your mother? Will you feel free to see her now?”
“If my business falls apart, there’s nothing keeping me from visiting her. I’ve already sent her a letter. I’m sure to hear back from her any day.”
“I’m glad for you, Cassie. What a relief.”
“Yes, it is,” Cassidy agreed and laughed a little. “When Abi Pfister gets wind of all of this, my life will be a whole chapter in her book.”
“Did you not hear what happened?” Rylan asked. He then went on to explain the way Abi had been hurt. Cassidy was sorry to hear it but glad that Rylan was going to have further contact with her.
“Why would someone beat her up?” Cassidy asked.
“She said they wanted information on her book. It made no sense to Sheriff Kaderly or me.”
“I’ll pray for her,” Cassidy said, thinking how frightening the attack must have been.
The two had walked full circle. They’d gone down by the mill before turning back and returning to Cassidy’s shop. It was also growing dark.
“I’ll let you get in out of the cold.”
“Thanks for stopping,” Cassidy said sincerely. “Your support in all of this has been wonderful, Pastor. Thank you.”
“Your business might not survive this, Cassie, but you’re safe and still a part of our church family. I thank God for that.”
Before heading up the stairs, Cassidy smiled and told him she was thankful for the same things. Rylan waited until she was safely inside before heading for home.
“Well now,” Trace said softly, meeting Cassidy’s buggy as he always did and helping her down, hours earlier on this day. “This is a nice surprise.”
“I left a note on my door,” Cassidy said, “saying I would be open again on Thursday.”
“Well done,” Trace praised her.
Meg was close behind, hugging her friend and trying not to cry. “Have you had breakfast?” she asked.