by Eve Gaddy
He opened his eyes and saw her in front of him, wearing nothing but his shirt, her hair mussed, her eyes still sleepy. It was all he could do not to take her back to the bedroom and make love to her. To still the voices in his mind, to still the doubts.
But he couldn’t. “Do you have to go to work?” he asked, instead.
She lifted a shoulder and yawned. “Yes, but not until later. I have time.”
“I made coffee. Want me to get you a cup?”
“Thanks.” She came over to him, put her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his chest. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He put her away from him, poured coffee into a mug for her and refilled his own. “Come on, let’s go sit down.”
Casey followed him into the den, sat on the couch and sipped her coffee. After several minutes she said, “I’m getting the distinct impression you’re about to dump me.”
He shook his head, though he knew that was how this would seem. How could he explain his feelings to her when he couldn’t explain them to himself? How could he expect her to understand when he had no choice but to withhold that hidden part of himself? If he told Casey the truth, all of the truth, she would leave him, anyway. Just as his parents had.
So he would tell her some of the truth. The part he’d never been able to bury. But the rest would stay inside him, locked in that dark corner of his mind. “It’s not that simple. I wish it were, but it isn’t.”
He cupped his hands around his mug, trying to decide what to say and how best to say it. She didn’t speak, but he could feel her gaze on him, warm and questioning.
“I told you I grew up in an orphanage. From the time I was seven.” She nodded and he went on. “I stayed until I was fifteen, because I wanted my GED and knew I wouldn’t get it if I left. Besides, at that age my options were very limited. But there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t wish like hell that I was somewhere else.”
“Were they— Did they abuse you?”
“No.” He smiled. “Don’t be envisioning Oliver Twist. They fed us, took care of us. But no one loved us. It just—” he spread his hands “—wasn’t that kind of place. And the friendships you made there, well, they didn’t last, either. You never knew who would leave next. Who would get in trouble with the law, or run away. A few kids even got adopted. Not many, but some. The rest of us really hated them.”
“It sounds depressing.”
“It was.” He got up and went to the kitchen to refill their mugs. He handed hers to her and sat beside her again. “I spent eight years there. That’s the longest I ever stayed anywhere, but it wasn’t a home. I’ve never had a home.”
“Does it bother you? Not having a home?”
“It hasn’t. Until now.” He put down his mug and took her hands, carrying each one to his mouth. “I didn’t expect what happened between us, Casey. I thought we’d have a brief, mutually satisfying relationship and then I’d move on and so would you.” He squeezed her hands, looked into those green eyes that glistened like pools. “That isn’t what happened.”
“That’s all I thought it would be, too. At first. But that changed for me. And it didn’t take long.”
It hadn’t taken him long, either. He’d started falling for her the first time he’d kissed her. “I fell in love with you, Casey. Which I didn’t expect. Hell, I’m thirty-six years old and I’ve never fallen in love before. I didn’t figure I ever would. Didn’t think I could.”
He was still holding her hands, still wishing he didn’t have to end their relationship. But anything else would only hurt her more, and he felt like a bastard as it was.
“So what’s the problem? Isn’t the fact that I love you and you love me the most important thing here?” she asked him. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”
“Because it doesn’t matter. It’s not going to work.”
“Love matters. And why wouldn’t it work?”
“Love won’t change anything. It won’t change my past.”
“But it could change our future. If you let it,” she said softly.
God, how he wished he could believe that. But he didn’t. “I’ve never stayed in a place longer than a few months in my adult life. I’ve never wanted to.”
She gazed at him for a moment before understanding flashed in her eyes. “Oh, I get it. You still don’t want to.”
“Yes, I want to. But damn it, Casey, I don’t believe I can.” He got up and started to pace. “It’s not a matter of wanting or not wanting.” He wanted her, all right. More than he’d wanted anything in his life. But he couldn’t have her. “I don’t know if I can do it. I’m just not put together that way. And the longer I stay here, the longer I stay with you, the harder it’s going to be for us when the end inevitably comes.”
“Why is it inevitable?”
“Because I’ll let you down. I’ve never had a family. Never been responsible for anyone. To anyone. I’ve never even had a dog or a cat. How am I supposed to believe that I can settle down? Be counted on?”
She got up and gazed down at him, her arms folded across her chest. “So that’s it? You’re not even willing to try?”
“I’m not willing to hurt you any more than I already have.”
“Give me a break. You’re scared, that’s what this is about.”
That stung. And angered him. Couldn’t she see how this was hurting him? Did she think he was enjoying himself? “Damn it, I’m trying to do the right thing. The best thing for you.” And all she could do was hassle him.
“Bullshit,” she said in disgust. “If you want to walk away, don’t kid yourself you’re doing it for me. You’re walking because you don’t have the guts to see it through.”
“If that’s what you believe—”
“That’s exactly what I believe.” Her fingers had been busy with the shirt buttons. With that, she undid the last one, stripped the shirt off and threw it at him. “Go away, Nick. And don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.” She turned on her heel and stalked out.
A moment later he heard a door slam. He got up and stood there, shocked at how suddenly the situation had deteriorated.
He started to go, then realized both his keys and his shoes were in Casey’s bedroom. Something told him she wouldn’t take kindly to him knocking on the door. Before he made up his mind what to do, she appeared in the doorway—wearing a T-shirt now—tossed his shoes and keys in his direction and turned her back again without saying a word.
He wanted to go after her. Wanted to tell her he loved her, wanted to hear her say she loved him, one final time. Instead, he walked out the door.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE NEXT FEW DAYS dragged by for Casey. The only good thing was that she was incredibly busy with the harvest. Nothing was certain, but there was still a chance they’d come out of the whole mess not too badly damaged.
But she wasn’t so busy that she didn’t have plenty of time to think about Nick, and their last conversation. When Jordan had jilted her she’d thought that was the worst pain she’d ever have to face, but it hadn’t even come close to what she felt when Nick broke it off between them.
She reached for the phone a dozen times, only to stop herself just as many. What could she say in the face of such irrational behavior? He’d admitted he loved her, and he knew she loved him. Yet he still meant to throw away everything they might have together. Because of his past.
Love couldn’t change his past. There was obviously a lot he wasn’t telling her, because she couldn’t see the reason for his behavior, given what little he’d told her. She didn’t understand why being an orphan meant he had to go through life alone, but that was apparently what Nick believed.
The big dummy.
Earlier that morning, Casey had gotten a phone call from Megan, inviting her to lunch today. There was no way she could refuse, and besides, she wanted to see the little girl. Even though Esme would be there, ready to gloat over the fact that her prediction about Nick and Cas
ey had come true.
Casey didn’t believe for a moment that anyone in the big house didn’t know that she and Nick were no longer an item. Probably everyone in Baton Rouge knew. Certainly all the single women would know, she thought glumly.
But she wouldn’t disappoint Megan just because it made her uncomfortable to see her aunt, so she squared her shoulders and set off for Bellefontaine. She’d been out in the fields all morning, and as luck would have it, she’d forgotten her hat and had never had a chance to go back and get it. The sun was high and heat shimmered in waves off the dirt road, the dry dust rising with each step, making her cough.
Her vision blurred and her head started to spin. She shook her head, wishing she’d thought to drink some water when she’d come in from the fields. She glanced at Bellefontaine, gauging the distance. A few hundred yards. Once she had some water, she’d feel better.
Each footstep became progressively harder to take. She felt as if she were swimming in cement. Black dots danced in front of her eyes. A roaring sounded in her ears, and the dots merged into a curtain. She staggered, went down on her knees and then crumpled.
She came to when someone threw a glass of water in her face. Flat on her back, she gazed up at Betty and Esme.
“She needs to drink it, not have it thrown in her face,” Esme said in a superior tone. “Any fool would know that.”
“Humph,” Betty said, crossing her arms over her chest and dangling a plastic pitcher from her hand. “Well, this fool can see that she’s come to. So put that in your pipe and smoke it.”
Esme ignored her and knelt down beside Casey, offering her a glass of water. “Here, let me help you.” She put her arm behind her and got her to a sitting position.
“I— What happened?” she asked Esme as she obediently sipped the liquid. “Last thing I knew I was walking along the road and then…” She wrinkled her brow, but nothing more came. “That’s it. That’s all I remember.”
“You fainted,” Esme said. “From the heat.” She glared at Betty, as if daring her to say differently.
“We’ll see about that,” Betty said ominously.
“From the heat,” Esme repeated. “Now, give her a hand. She needs to get out of this sun. It’s a wonder we’re not all lying in the dirt.”
“I’m all right,” Casey said, embarrassed. “I can get up by myself.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Esme said, and for once, Betty nodded agreement.
She didn’t faint. She never fainted. Well, she’d passed out during the fire because of smoke inhalation, but she wasn’t the fainting type.
Esme and Betty each held a hand and pulled her to her feet, one remaining on either side of her. “I can walk fine,” she protested. “I can’t imagine what happened.”
Betty snorted but didn’t speak. Esme simply took her arm and walked toward the back porch.
Once inside, they forced her to sit on the couch. She gave in, first because she was no match for two determined Southern women, and second, because she was afraid she’d fall down if she didn’t. “I’m supposed to be having lunch with Megan. Where is she?”
“I’ll tell her you’re not feeling well. You can see her when you’re steadier,” Esme said.
“No, don’t do that. I’ll be all right in a minute. I don’t want to disappoint her.”
Oddly enough, Esme didn’t argue. “All right, but first, you need more liquid. Betty, get her some orange juice.”
“Orange juice is well and good, but she needs food, I’ll wager. When’s the last time you ate, girl?”
Casey shrugged. The past few days she’d been living on coffee and nerves. Besides, her appetite had deserted her the same day Nick left.
“I knew it.” Betty moved to the stove, muttering darkly.
Esme came back a short time later, leading Megan by the hand. Betty served the two of them at the table, a hurried meal of toast and eggs, while Esme took a seat in one of the armchairs, her little silver-coated dog at her feet.
Casey smiled as she listened to Megan’s account of what had happened at preschool the day before. Megan was settling in, feeling more comfortable with the family. Even a few weeks earlier, she hadn’t chattered so much.
As soon as they finished, Megan went off to find Tanya. Casey looked at her aunt and waited to see what she’d say. She didn’t think Esme was through with her yet.
At least she felt better now that she had something in her stomach. What an idiot she’d been not to eat, she thought, more than a little embarrassed.
“Now, then,” Esme said after Megan left, clearly gearing up for a long visit. “I’m sure Betty will be happy to do the dishes later.”
“Betty won’t do any such thing,” she said, walking over to them with the spatula still in hand. “I raised her the same as you did. Who fed this family for the past thirty-some years? Who listened to this child cry when that no-account Whittaker boy broke her heart, when you and her mother wouldn’t spare her the time of day?”
“That’s not your place to say,” Esme said, flushing. “Angelique wanted to talk to her, she…simply didn’t have the words. Why would you even bring that up?”
“It needed saying,” Betty stated grimly.
“Well, it didn’t need saying right this minute. I have private things to say to my niece. Solitude, s’il vous plaît.”
“Private, my eye. If you think you can tell me to go on about my business just like I’m the hired help and not a part of this family—”
“Betty, of course Aunt Esme didn’t mean that. You know you’re family.” First a near heatstroke, now a family feud.
Casey hadn’t realized until this moment how much it had hurt that her mother hadn’t supported her when Jordan jilted her. Angelique had faded into the woodwork, just as she always did when something upsetting happened. It was a failing of hers. Now that Casey was grown, she recognized it as such. It didn’t mean her mother didn’t love her, it simply meant she wasn’t capable of handling that kind of emotion. But knowing that hadn’t helped when she’d been heartbroken.
“Look, I’m fine. Neither of you needs to worry. I’m very grateful you saw me out there and came to get me, but nothing’s wrong that a little rest and cool air won’t fix. I worked out in the fields all morning and I didn’t drink enough water.”
“Cassandra, are you pregnant?”
Casey felt as if her eyes were popping out of her head. She’d never expected that question from the prim and proper Esme. She glanced at Betty, but saw no support there.
“Well?” Betty said. “Are you?”
“Of course I’m not pregnant. Why would you even think that?”
Betty snorted. “Could be because we’re not stupid, Casey. Everyone knows what’s been going on between you and that Nick Devlin. And now you faint dead away in the middle of the road, when you’ve never done such a thing in your life. What are we supposed to think?”
If she hadn’t been so miserable, she’d have laughed at their identical stern expressions. “You can think that I was stupid. I haven’t been eating, and then today I didn’t drink enough water. It was the heat, mostly. I’m not pregnant.” Of course she wasn’t pregnant. She was stressed, that was all.
Esme laid her hand over Casey’s, surprising her. “If you are, we’ll face it together.”
Casey stared at her. In light of the grief Esme had given Jackson over his illegitimate daughter, she couldn’t imagine her aunt softening toward her. Especially not considering the scandal it would be bound to cause if two Fontaines had illegitimate children.
“Did you know Nick and I broke up? A few days ago?”
Esme nodded grimly. “We know.”
“Everybody does,” Betty added. “Don’t you worry, honey, we’ll make him see reason.”
“I’m touched. No, I truly am,” she said, when Esme frowned. “I appreciate the support more than you can know. But I’m not pregnant. You don’t have to worry, okay?”
Toodles jumped up on the couch beside her and
licked her hand. Casey looked at him, then her aunt. “I thought he hated me? What’s going on?”
“Don’t be foolish, Cassandra. Toodles doesn’t hate anyone in the family.”
Hesitantly she patted his head. Lord, even the dog was surprising her today.
“Betty, would you please let me talk to Cassandra alone? I have something to say to her that I think she needs to know. And you’re already aware of the story.”
Betty pursed her lips and gazed at Esme before giving a brisk nod. “’Bout time you told her,” she said, and left the room.
Casey stared after Betty, amazed at the exchange. She turned to her aunt. “It sounds like you’re about to tell me a deep, dark secret. I didn’t know we had any skeletons in the closet.”
“All families do. Even the Fontaines,” Esme said. “I should have told you years ago. Especially when Jordan…jilted you. But I was ashamed and I wanted to pretend nothing had happened to me. So I didn’t speak of it.”
“Tell me what, Aunt Esme?”
“You didn’t just faint from the heat, did you?” She held up a hand when Casey started to reiterate that she wasn’t pregnant. “You haven’t been eating, you haven’t been sleeping. You look miserable. And I know why. Your heart’s been broken, more than it ever was by Jordan Whittaker.”
Casey closed her eyes. Exactly what she’d been dreading. “Aunt Esme, I’m just not up to hearing you rant about Nick.”
“I’m not going to rant about him.”
Casey opened her eyes. “You’re not?”
Esme shook her head. “I shouldn’t have before. You’re old enough to know what you want. Or who.”
“If that’s how you really feel, then why were you so hard on me?”
“I wanted to keep you from getting hurt. Probably because—” she bit her lip “—I know what you’re going through right now.”