by Laura Moore
Alex lunged, ready to tear Brad Gibson limb from limb.
He never got the chance.
With the speed of a panther making his kill, Caleb had already pounced. With one hand, he grabbed Gibson by the front of his shirt, tearing him away from Cassie. The other now curled into a rock hard fist, plowed into Gibson’s face, slamming into his nose with all his might.
Gibson crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Barks of laughter floated out eerily from the brightly lit house, the sound of the party continuing undisturbed, incongruous with the scene outside. A weird silence descended around the three standing figures, the night and all that had just happened taking on a surreal air.
Seconds ticked by, with no one moving, no one speaking. At last Alex stepped forward, looking down dispassionately at the bloody figure lying on the ground. Out like a light. It was interesting, the way Brad Gibson’s nose was no longer quite where it should be. He was curious what the medical term for that was. Already, it was taking on the appearance of a squashed tomato, draped inelegantly off the side of Gibson’s face. Major reconstructive surgery no doubt about it.
Slightly envious of Caleb’s handiwork, he angled his head, giving Caleb an inscrutable look. His tone was conversational. “You know Wells, you might have had the courtesy of letting me take him out. After all, she is my sister.”
“True,” Caleb nodded agreeably understanding the other man’s feelings completely. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins as the scene unfolded once more in his mind. Such rage, such an overwhelming need to protect Cassie, the woman he loved. Caleb knew instinctively that Miller had experienced an identical reaction.
Since he’d robbed him of the pleasure of smashing in Gibson’s face, Caleb supposed the least he could do was to give Cassie’s brother an explanation, an apology of sorts. “Sorry I stepped in like that. But I figured that since I’m going to marry her, I had, uh, precedence.”
“You’re going to marry her?”
“Yeah.” His teeth flashed in the dark. “Of course, I’d appreciate your permission, as you’re her older brother and all.”
There, that was perfect, showed lots of tact. Important to respect Miller’s position as head of the family. Caleb’s eyes dropped back down to the unconscious form, recalling how his fist had connected with Gibson’s face. A definite pleasure, he thought. Too bad it had taken just one punch. What a wimp. He wondered if they could just leave him here, merely informing their host that someone was in need of immediate assistance.
Alex spoke again, interrupting his thoughts. “And has Cassie said yes?”
It jolted him, like an electric shock, snapping him out of the bizarre, trancelike state he’d slipped into from the moment he’d seen Gibson standing, his hand a vice grip on Cassie. Realizing his blunder too late, hoping against hope it wasn’t as bad as he feared.
It was.
Cassie stepped forward, her eyes shooting fire, her body taught with rage. Truly magnificent in her fury. “No, she hasn’t. Gee, I wonder why? Five weeks, five weeks, and not a word!” Her words lashed, fueled by righteous indignation. “Then you have the gall, the unmitigated gall, to go and ask my brother for my hand in marriage. And speak about me as if I didn’t even exist?”
She was so mad she could spit. Her chest was heaving, rising and falling violently. What incredible nerve, she thought, filled with disgust at Alex and Caleb’s exchange. Planning to marry her? Since when? After all those weeks of dying a little with every day that passed and he remained silent? She supposed she should be grateful she’d been informed at all, let alone asked. Maybe he’d thought he could just arrange the whole thing with Alex, like they did in the Middle Ages.
Well, she was damned if anyone was going to get away with treating her as if she were of no consequence.
In her opinion, Caleb’s lack of consideration was far more offensive than the sight of Brad’s destroyed nose. As far as Brad’s nose went, if any one had bothered to ask, Cassie would have replied that Brad had been asking for a busted nose for some time now.
If she’d cared enough, she’d have given him one herself. But she hadn’t. Those drunken words he’d spewed at her while ugly and vicious, hadn’t the power to hurt her. Because she didn’t love him. But she loved Caleb, damn him.
With a renewed spurt of anger, Cassie whirled, surprised to find she still held a glass of champagne in her hand. How odd. With a grim smile, she flicked her wrist, splashing the remains of her champagne over Brad’s battered face.
Turning to Caleb, her eyes sent him straight to hell. “I hope when Brad comes to, he presses charges. Have fun in jail.”
“I take it she hasn’t said yes yet,” Alex said mildly watching his sister storm across the lawn. Yes, indeed, his kid sister was truly pissed. He hadn’t seen her this mad in years. What a sight she was, he thought proudly.
Oh, God. Caleb rubbed his hands roughly up and down his face, cursing himself viciously. Unable to believe the magnitude of his blunder. How stupid could he have been?
“I was planning on asking her tonight. On the beach. We were heading there now. I’ve got the ring in my pocket.”
Alex noticed Brad Gibson was beginning to stir, moaning feebly. He nudged him with the sole of his shoe, eliciting another moan.
“So, you were a bit . . . premature.”
Caleb remained silent. Not bothering with excuses, knowing there weren’t any.
“Come on then, we’d better go figure out how you’re going to make it up to her.”
Caleb paused. His thoughts clearing somewhat, he was torn, unsure what to do about Brad Gibson, whose moans of pain were growing louder with each passing minute.
Seeing Caleb hesitate, Alex Miller spared Brad Gibson a final, scornful glance. “Don’t worry about Gibson. Even if he ever figures out what, or who hit him, he won’t press charges. He’d rather have a ruined nose than a ruined law practice, which is what he’d get, compliments of yours truly.”
As if they were college roommates out together for a night on the town, Alex draped an arm around Caleb’s shoulder drawing him away. After a few yards, he bent, scooping up from the ground Caleb’s forgotten bottle of champagne. Caleb had dropped it when he’d charged, needing both hands to properly rearrange Gibson’s face. Alex held the bottle aloft as if it were a torch to guide them. “Now then,” he said. “What we need is some sound female advice.”
But Thompson wasn’t giving. When Alex and Caleb returned to Great-aunt Grace’s home in Georgica Estates and told Thompson the whole sorry tale, she proceeded to chew the hide off Caleb. Then she left, declaring loudly she’d never have encouraged him in his pursuit of Cassie if she’d suspected just what a nitwit he was.
It was a horrible feeling, having two females he cared about detest him at the same time.
For lack of a better alternative, they were forced to talk it over themselves. Or rather Alex talked, sipping champagne from the bottle Caleb had appropriated earlier explaining his sister’s fierce sense of independence. Waxing increasingly philosophical.
“Cass has wanted to be her own person, handle things by herself for a long time now. You know or maybe you don’t, I offered her a pile of money so she could start her own barn, buy some horses, call her own shots. But she turned me down, preferring to work for you and Hank. I could tell how important it was to her, that she’d gone out and gotten the job. She wanted to make something of it, all by herself.”
From across the rustic farmhouse table Alex looked at Caleb, who was sitting dejectedly his head cradled in his hands, staring down at the wooden grain of the kitchen floorboards. Mute with despair.
Not overly concerned, Alex continued his musing. “So, obviously, Cass must have been a little put out when she heard you asking me for her hand in marriage. Guess that was one of those major life decisions she wanted to make for herself.”
Caleb hadn’t realized Alex Miller was such a master of understatement. Probably everybody talked this way in tho
se big, New York financial firms. Still Caleb said nothing, his mind like a stuck record, her anger, her fury playing over and over again. God, he wished he could take back every second of the evening and start afresh. Except maybe the part where his fist connected with Gibson’s nose. That he’d keep.
Alex’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Come on, Wells. Snap out of it. No way are you going to win Cassie, or her forgiveness, sitting around here like a kicked dog.”
Caleb’s head lifted, his hands supporting his chin. He eyed Alex balefully. “Careful there, Miller. I’d watch my language. In my profession that’s a really nasty expression.”
Alex swept out a hand, bringing the glass of champagne to his lips for a slow sip. “My apologies,” he offered as he refilled his empty glass. “But I need you to start paying close attention. I’ve come up with an idea I think might work. You’ll still have to do some serious persuading, some serious groveling, too, but this might help tip the scales in your favor.”
He outlined the rudiments of his plan. Listening, Caleb began to sit straighter in his chair, a glimmer of hope kindling inside him. Yeah, he had to hand it to Miller it was a good idea. Big, a bit silly, and really sweet. Cassie just might soften up enough for him to beg her forgiveness. But the logistics would be damned tricky.
“You really think we can pull that off, on a Sunday morning?” Caleb asked.
“Well, you’re going to have to get on the phone at the crack of dawn, and you’re going to have to blow a major amount of cash, but then, I’m assuming you know my sister’s worth a whole lot more than that.”
“Absolutely ” he agreed quietly. “I love her so much it hurts.” He looked across at Alex. “But I have to admit, Miller I’m curious why you’re helping me. Down in Virginia, you seemed more than eager to tear a piece out of my hide. Why this about-face? Why help me win her back? This is a golden opportunity to blow me clear out of the water.”
Alex leaned back in his chair.
“I don’t need to blow you out of the water. Not anymore. I’d arranged everything, in case that became necessary, but I won’t do it.” His even teeth flashed against his lightly tan skin. “I’m even thinking of giving you Orion as a wedding present. I like the symbolism of the gesture, don’t you?”
“What the hell do you mean, give me Orion?” Caleb demanded. His eyes narrowed as the recent events began at last to make sense. He asked suddenly “Wait, do you mean . . . did Cassie?”
Alex raised a hand, stopping him. “No, she never knew although I’m surprised she didn’t recognize it. She’s aware I created the TLM Group after the accident. Acronym for Tom and Lisa Miller. It’s a fund I use for a lot of different investments, special charities. Cassie probably would have figured it out eventually. I suppose at the time,” Alex finished blandly “she was fairly distracted, what with one thing and another.”
Caleb coughed. “Yeah, a lot’s been happening during the last month.” He looked across the table in bemusement at Cassie’s brother. “I admit to shock. You could have taken away everything I love but now instead you’re helping me.”
Alex’s sharp, chiseled features assessed Caleb with careful scrutiny. A quiet laugh escaped his lips. “I agree, it does seem wildly out of character, suspicious, even. Why help you?” he mused. “A few reasons actually.” Counting them off, one by one, Alex extended his thumb, his other fingers following, as he reeled off his explanation. “First, back in Virginia, it was hard not to notice how Cassie looked at you. Even then, she was already half in love with you. From the way her face glows now this evening excluded, of course, I’d say she’s as much in love with you as you are with her.” Alex’s index finger shot out. “Second, I saw how good you were with Jamie and Sophie. You weren’t pretending to like them just to get her into your bed. Knowing Cassie as well as I do, I know she couldn’t truly love you if the kids weren’t important to you. That’s why it would have never worked out with Brad. Because of her grief after the accident, it took her way too long to see him for the selfish jerk he was.” His middle finger joined the first two. “Third, I saw the expression on your face this Wednesday when Cassie fell off Orion. That said it all.” He fell silent a moment, letting his sentence hang in the air. Lifting his champagne glass, he stared at the tiny bubbles rising, exploding. He drank deeply. When at last he looked up again, his blue eyes reminded Caleb of bitter frost on a winter’s day. “Fourth, I suddenly find I don’t need to go in for the kill, so to speak. Cassie’s grown up on me. She doesn’t need her big brother to watch out for her. And the final reason I’m suddenly your closest ally, perhaps even your new best friend, is because I love my sister and my niece and nephew more than anything in the world. Myself, I don’t have a lot of optimism about ever finding a real and lasting love. If my sister has, I’ll move heaven, earth, and hell itself to help her get it and keep it.”
31
“Uh, Cassie, don’t you think you could maybe, just maybe, find it in your heart to forgive Caleb?”
“Hank,” Cassie replied tightly, “I’d really appreciate it if you drop this subject immediately. Even better don’t mention that man’s name.”
Hank wished he were just about anywhere else on earth right now than in Cassie’s Jeep, driving her back to the motel. Christ, he wasn’t even sure he understood exactly what had happened back at the party to get her this upset. He’d been confused from the word go, when she’d marched right up and informed him that if he didn’t leave the party with her this very second, he could walk back to the motel. Hank had started to ask about Caleb, but she’d interrupted him, telling him that Caleb could go take a hike, for all she cared.
No, Hank thought, glancing over at Cassie, who sat fuming in the passenger seat. He couldn’t figure out for the life of him what was going on. And he damn sure didn’t want to find out. He missed his wife. Perhaps he could telephone her when they arrived and she could deal with the whole rotten mess.
He pulled into the parking space near the motel cabins. Cassie was out of the car like a shot, slamming the door behind her. She called to him as she fumbled with her key.
“By the way if Caleb happens to show his face, you’d better tell him he’s sleeping in your room. If he tries to get in mine, I swear I’ll call the police.”
Jesus Christ Almighty that girl certainly had a temper. “Sure thing, Cassie, I’ll be sure to pass that on.” Not knowing what else to say, he called out lamely, “Sweet dreams.”
If Thompson was taken aback at finding Caleb still sitting in Great-aunt Grace’s kitchen at six o’clock the following morning, she was too good a poker player to reveal it. He didn’t look as if he’d slept, but his hair was damp. A shower or a predawn dip in the ocean? His bare, sandy feet gave her the answer.
As was his custom, Caleb had immediately stood upon Thompson’s entering the room. For a minute, neither spoke.
Then testily, she made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go on, sit down. I can’t make breakfast if you’re standing in the middle of the kitchen. I suppose you’ll want some.”
“You still mad at me, Bessie?”
“Yes. That is, unless you managed to get a new brain overnight.”
“Ouch. Have pity on me, I know I’ve been an idiot. Unfortunately it’s hard to get a brain transplant on a Saturday night. But luckily Alex lent me his.”
“Alex?”
“Yeah. Nice to see surprise on your face, too. He’s not such a stiff after all.”
“Of course not.” Her tone was exasperated.
“Well, you might not have thought he was one, being a woman and all . . .”
“Caleb Wells . . .” Thompson’s voice rose warningly.
“Okay, okay. Anyway, he and I talked things over. I admire the way he cares for his family. And I can’t overlook the fact that he’s trying to help me out of the mess I made with Cassie.”
“So what are you going to do?” She tried to ask the question casually, as if it were only of the mildest interest.
�
�Bessie, I think you’ll like this plan . . .”
Caleb was back on Thompson’s most-favored-person list by the time Alex made his way downstairs for breakfast. Caleb inspected him closely coming to the conclusion that Alex must be blessed with a stomach of iron. Not even a hint of a hangover after having finished that bottle of champagne all on his own. Indeed, Alex sat down and put away a breakfast easily as big as Caleb’s own.
“So, you all set to make some calls, Caleb?”
“Yeah, I was just telling Bessie about your idea.”
“If it meets with Thompson’s approval, then I think you have a shot at success. Let me find the telephone book so you can start calling around.”
Sophie and Jamie were far more enthusiastic than Thompson had been when they discovered Caleb sitting by the phone, jotting down numbers, dialing, making arrangements, dialing some more. “What’s Caleb doing here, Uncle Alex?”
“He’s arranging a surprise for your mom.”
“What kind of surprise?” As excited as if the surprise were for themselves.
“A big one. It’s a secret, so I can’t tell. You’ll see it later.”
“I know what kind of surprise I’d give her, if I could.”
“What’s that, Sophie love?”
“I’d get her a dog, ’cause she liked Finnegan almost as much as me and I miss him lots.”
“Me, too,” Jamie chimed in.
“Well, I don’t think Caleb’s going to get a dog for her today, but now that you mention it, I think you’re right. Your mom would like a dog. What kind did you say she’d like?”