Fortune's Family Secrets

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Fortune's Family Secrets Page 14

by Karen Rose Smith


  So this was about more than a drawing, Cassie thought. It always seemed to be.

  Danny’s father appeared not to know what to say to that. He cleared his throat, then asked, “And who’s this Nash person you’re talking about?”

  Nash had been quiet up till now, just sitting back and observing. Since he’d been brought into the discussion, he stood and extended his hand to Danny’s father. “I’m Nash Tremont, a detective from Biloxi. I just happen to be staying here at the bed-and-breakfast. Danny and I have talked about his drawings before. He’s very good. I imagine you’re proud of him.”

  Cassie almost smiled. That certainly put Danny’s father on the spot.

  He blustered a bit and then declared, “Art lessons aren’t going to lead him toward a career. He needs to find a hobby that will benefit his future.”

  “I won an art competition, and selling paintings enabled me to buy this bed-and-breakfast,” Cassie told him proudly. “Danny could use his art in a million ways. It’s up to him to find the best fit, or a counselor who understands his talents.” She motioned toward the table at the side of the room. “Help yourself to a coffee and cookies. I want to show you something. I’ll be right back.”

  She knew Nash could probably handle the conversation in the time it would take to pull Danny’s folder out of her file cabinet. After she went to her room and did just that, she brought it back to the guest area. Paul was sitting on the sofa, munching on one of her cookies.

  She sat next to him and handed him the folder. “Why don’t you take a look at these? They’re all pictures Danny has drawn. He’s very talented.”

  After Paul paged through the folder, he sent a look to Nash that told Cassie he realized his son listened to him because he respected him.

  “These are good,” he confirmed. “He understands depth perception and shadowing. He’s young for that.”

  “Since you understand that, maybe you had some art training?”

  “I did as an undergraduate. I enjoyed it, but I realized it really didn’t fit into my curriculum since I wanted to become a lawyer.”

  “Maybe I like to draw because you did,” Danny said, embracing Cassie’s thoughts exactly.

  “I suppose that’s possible,” Paul agreed. He rubbed his hand over his jaw. “I’m a corporate lawyer. I’m away on business so much that maybe I don’t know what my son needs.”

  Dorie said in a soft voice, “If we talk to the principal together, maybe we’ll get a better idea.”

  Danny’s father nodded. “And we can talk about karate lessons if you’re truly interested,” he told his son.

  “I am,” Danny assured him.

  Fifteen minutes later, the family left. After the door closed behind them, Nash asked, “Do you think they’ll work it out?”

  “Do you mean, will Danny’s dad support his art? I don’t know. I’d like to think people can change.”

  “They rarely do,” Nash said, as if he knew that all too well.

  “If Danny’s dad can become interested in his son’s art or even his karate training, then they’ll have a common interest. That might be the first step to better communication.”

  “You are an optimist, aren’t you?”

  “I try to be. Is there a point to being negative instead of positive?”

  Nash seemed to think about that. “Sometimes I’m flooded with the negative and I forget there’s a positive. I’d like to think life can turn out well at the end, but when you’re dealing with criminals and their habits, that’s rarely true.”

  “Then we’re back to whether anyone can change or not. You know, you were really good with Danny. Maybe you should think about working with kids.”

  “When I was a beat cop, I did enjoy going to schools to talk about safety and the pitfalls of taking drugs.”

  “You talked to all ages of children?”

  “Sure did, from bicycle safety with the first and second graders, up to the danger of drugs with the high school kids.”

  Cassie couldn’t help herself from asking, “Do you want your own kids some day?”

  “I thought about it when I believed I’d be engaged to Sara, but I guess I just put any thoughts about kids on hold since then. Do you want children?”

  “I’d love to have children. But I’d have to meet the right man.”

  “Yes, I guess you would,” Nash agreed, his gaze locking to hers.

  When Cassie’s cell phone dinged, the sound seemed to startle them both.

  Nash asked, “Since no guests signed up for dinner tonight, are you interested in pancakes and bacon? I’m an expert chef at those.”

  Going to the counter to pick up her phone, Cassie nodded. “Pancakes would be great. After I get this, I’ll help you.”

  She didn’t recognize the number the caller ID showed—Senft Art Gallery. Why would an art gallery be calling her?

  “Hello? This is Cassie Calloway at the Bluebonnet Bed-and-Breakfast.”

  “Miss Calloway, this is Mark Senft from the Senft Gallery. I’ll get right to the point. I’d like to see your portfolio and meet you in person. Would that be possible tomorrow at 11 a.m.? That meeting would be in my office in Round Rock.”

  “How did you hear about my work?” she asked.

  “I received an email with photo files from your agent.”

  “My agent,” she repeated.

  “Yes, Nash Tremont.”

  “I see,” she said slowly, turning her gaze on Nash. “I forgot he was sending that out this week.”

  “So you’ve queried other galleries?”

  “Yes,” she said, not knowing whether that was true or not. She’d have to ask Nash.

  “Have you made other appointments?” Senft asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, good. Can you meet with me tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I can. Eleven, you say? Can you give me your address again?”

  He did.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven.”

  After the requisite goodbyes, Cassie laid her cell phone on the counter and approached Nash. He’d just taken a frying pan from a lower cupboard.

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “I was hoping I was doing something nice for you. Did it work out?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m meeting Mr. Senft tomorrow. Did you query other galleries?”

  “Yes, I did. About nine of them. So you might be getting other phone calls.”

  “Nash, you’re wonderful.” She couldn’t help but throw her arms around his neck. After she did, they studied each other for a very long moment. In the next heartbeat, he was bending his head, holding her tight, kissing her with a fervor that made her want him in an elemental way.

  As Cassie drowned in his kiss, she realized he kissed in layers—soft and coaxing first, then with some sweet taunting, and finally with a passion that not only took her breath away but shooed common sense into a corner of her mind where it wasn’t yelling at her. But she knew better than to get involved with him. His body was hard and muscled and strong. With him holding her this tightly, she could tell. His chest was broad, his stomach was taut, his thighs as they pressed against her legs were solidly immovable.

  This time, with this kiss, he didn’t break away quickly and neither did she. It was as if they reveled in what they were doing. While his right hand held her close, his left brushed her back creating delicious shivers along her spine. Cassie wished the kiss could go on forever.

  “You taste as delicious as your cinnamon rolls,” he whispered on an indrawn breath. Then he was kissing her again.

  She should have backed away. She should have told him to stop. But stopping didn’t seem to be in her vocabulary at that moment. And the moment stretched and stretched and stretched. This was closer than she’d been to a man in years. And not just physically. She felt close
to Nash emotionally. His kisses stirred up feelings and sensations that she’d long forgotten. She was totally caught up in Nash, not just the kiss. She reveled in the scent of him, in his male pheromones that seemed to unite with her female ones. Her hand caressed his neck as she pushed tighter against him. She heard the growl in his throat. Because he was aroused? Because he needed a woman? Because he needed her. She should be afraid of this much excitement...this much hunger. She should be afraid of making a fool of herself over a man who was going to leave. But she couldn’t stop herself.

  It was Nash who broke away. His eyes were stormy as he looked down at her and asked, “Was that kiss because I did a favor for you?”

  It took her a minute to gather her thoughts and to remember where she was. It was difficult because she was still tingling from every sensation she’d felt while he kissed her.

  “Of course not,” she said. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because you didn’t pull away. I don’t need thanks for what I did.”

  Feeling a little indignant and misunderstood, she took a step back. “If I wanted to thank you, I’d bake you more cinnamon rolls or chocolate chip cookies. Why did you kiss me?”

  “Because that’s all I’ve been thinking about since our last kiss.”

  She blinked at him. “Nash, this is crazy.”

  “Crazy it might be, but it’s happening.”

  “What exactly is happening?”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “I wish I knew. I just know I like being around you. I definitely like kissing you.”

  “Do you often kiss women when you go to a strange town?”

  “No,” Nash said, shaking his head. “Why would you think that after I told you about Sara?”

  “Maybe because of Sara. Maybe you don’t want any attachment. Maybe kissing and sleeping with a woman is all you need. Or else you’ve convinced yourself that’s all you need.”

  “So now you’ve turned into a psychologist?”

  “No. I’ve turned into a woman who doesn’t want to get hurt. You haven’t answered my question.”

  “I shouldn’t have to. But just for the sake of clarity, no, I don’t sleep around, whether I’m at home or on the road. That’s not me. I’ve dated since I’ve lived in Biloxi, but nothing ever came of it. So I just stopped.”

  “We’re not exactly dating,” she reminded him.

  “Sure, we are. We went to lunch. We went to the zoo.”

  If this weren’t so serious, she’d laugh. But it was serious because that kiss had made her realize she was in love with Nash Tremont, or fully on the way to it. Yet she couldn’t really tell where he stood in all this.

  “Tell me something, Nash. What if you find the information you’re looking for? What if your month is up and you drive back to Biloxi? What if you think about kissing me while you’re there? What happens next?”

  “You’re asking about a future I don’t have a road map for. I can’t tell you what’s going to happen in a week or two or three. I don’t have a crystal ball. Do you?”

  His comment made her sound as if she was being totally illogical and completely unreasonable. But she wasn’t. She always had to have a plan. Ever since she was a kid, when there was little food in the cupboard, there was a neighbor she could clean for, make some money and buy groceries. When her mother didn’t show up at school for a conference, or anything else that was important to Cassie, she had a whole line of excuses in her mind why her mother couldn’t be there. One or another would roll off her tongue as if it were the truth. If her mother didn’t come home at night, Cassie would visit a friend, and those friends would ask her to stay over and spend the night. She wouldn’t have to be in the apartment alone. But she couldn’t say any of this to Nash.

  Well, maybe she could say a little. “I had a lot of uncertainty in my life as a child, Nash. As I grew up, I wanted my life planned. I have part-time jobs so if I don’t have enough guests in a month, I can still pay my mortgage. I like to know what meal I’m cooking tomorrow so I have the ingredients for it. I ask my guests if they have any allergies so I don’t step into a crisis inadvertently. That’s just me. So if I begin caring for you and you just leave, that’s not okay for me.”

  “Cassie...” He reached out a hand to her, but she stepped back.

  “I appreciate what you did for me, I really do. Right now I’m going to go up to the attic and pick out a few paintings to take along with me to my appointment tomorrow.”

  “Take the new one,” he said.

  “The new one isn’t finished.”

  “That doesn’t matter. It shows your talent.”

  “I’ll think about it. You were going to make yourself pancakes. Go ahead and do that. The kitchen’s yours. And tomorrow when I get back, I’ll bake you cinnamon rolls as a real thank-you.”

  This time she was the one who left the room. She was the one who climbed the stairs. She was the one who turned her back on heartache.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cassie was so excited when she returned from her appointment in Round Rock the following day. She parked her car in the gravel area behind the B&B, a wide smile still on her face. She’d been wearing it the whole way back from Round Rock. She was going to have an art show sometime this summer! Mr. Senft was going to call her with the date next week.

  She wanted to tell Nash. She wanted to thank him again. But then she remembered how they’d left things last night. She hadn’t seen him this morning. He hadn’t even stopped for his usual mug of coffee. Either he’d left early or he’d been doing research in his room. She really had no right to know, either way. That made her sad.

  She opened the back door of her car and pulled out the three paintings she’d taken along to show Mr. Senft. She’d been up half the night finishing the angel, but she, of course, couldn’t take that one along because it was still wet. She had taken a picture of it, though, with her phone. Nash might have been right about that, too. That was the painting that might have decided the gallery owner in her favor.

  She was carrying the paintings up the back walk when she spotted Renata tending to the herb garden in her backyard. It was a raised bin so she didn’t have to stoop over so far to reach it.

  Renata waved to her. “Where have you been?” her neighbor asked her.

  “Let me set these paintings inside the porch, then I’ll come over and tell you.” Cassie ran up the steps, deposited the paintings inside and then went back to Renata’s yard. The smile was back on her face as she thought about her good news.

  “You look happy,” Renata said.

  “I am so happy. My paintings are going to be shown in a gallery this summer.”

  “Which gallery would that be?”

  “Mr. Senft, from Round Rock, has galleries in Austin, San Antonio and Dallas. He thinks he wants to set me up in the San Antonio gallery. He’s going to let me know next week about that and a date.”

  Renata threw her arms around Cassie, making tears spring to Cassie’s eyes. Her neighbor had become a mother figure in her life when she’d sorely needed one. “That’s wonderful news, honey. I guess you took paintings along to show this Mr. Senft?”

  “I did, along with a picture or two. Nash had already sent him photos of my work with a letter.”

  Renata leaned back. “Nash did?”

  “Yes. He said he wanted to do something nice for me.”

  “That man cares about you. I can see it in his eyes.”

  Caring was one thing. Attraction was another. Maybe Renata had mistaken one for the other.

  When Cassie didn’t respond, Renata said, “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  “I like Nash, and I think he likes me. But we haven’t known each other very long, and he’s going to be leaving in another week or so.”

  Renata studied her. “Would you like him to stay?”

  “H
e can’t do that. He has a job in Biloxi.”

  “I see,” Renata said with a twinkle in her eye. “You know, I have heard of these things called airplanes that fly back and forth, and cars that make trips comfortable.”

  Cassie laughed. “I understand. You get around.”

  “I not only get around, I’m old enough to have experience of the heart. My Luis and I, well, it was love at first sight.”

  “Where did you meet?”

  “At the wedding of a friend. He knew the groom, and I knew the bride. We began talking over dinner, we danced, and that was it. We were married for forty-five years.”

  “I can’t even imagine,” Cassie said.

  “When you’re in love, when you have a life together, time passes by much too quickly. I only wish we’d had children. We took in two foster children.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “The little girl, Olivia, was reunited with her mother after two years with us. Her mother got clean from drugs and every once in a while, I get a letter from her. Olivia has her own family now and lives in Kansas.”

  “And the other child?”

  “Billy was a wanderer. He came to us when he was sixteen because he had nowhere else to go. He was all defiance and rebellion at first, but then Luis and he found some common ground. They both liked to fish. Billy stayed with us until he earned enough to buy his own car, and then he was gone. The last time I heard from him, he was running one of those shops along the beach in Venice, California. He usually calls me on Christmas.”

  Cassie imagined there was so much more about Renata she didn’t know, but she did know one thing. Her birthday was tomorrow and Cassie was throwing a party. Renata deserved some caring, and Cassie wanted to make her feel special.

  Renata patted Cassie’s arm. “Someday you’ll marry and have children, and then you’ll have wonderful memories like I do.” Cassie didn’t know if that would ever be true, but she could hope.

  Renata turned back to her herb bin. “Do you need any fresh herbs for your meals today?”

 

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