No Reverse

by Marion Croslydon

  “That, I do…”

  thirty-seven

  Cassie

  Having a man around the house had many benefits. I couldn’t believe Gran and I had survived without one.

  Mending a fence here, fixing a leaking pipe there: Sam was a savior.

  “You’ve got magic fingers.” I cooed. He was tidying up the tools after spending a good hour under the kitchen sink.

  “You have no idea, Kitten. My fingers could take you to parallel universes.” Damn, he managed to make my cheeks heat up. “Places that Josh of yours doesn’t even know about.”

  Well, I hated to disappoint Sam, but the places Josh had taken me not so long ago… I could revisit them at any time, any day.

  Still, Sam was glaring at me. “Has Preppy Boy made a move on you?” He leaned against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

  I was beginning to think that this was his signature move.

  Granted, the guy had asked me to marry him, but that didn’t make my sex life any of his business. I mean, not quite yet. So I kept my mouth shut.

  “Maybe I was wrong about him. The dude is more of a player than I took him for.”

  “Josh isn’t a player.”

  Sam whistled. “Quick to defend his good name.”

  I turned my back on him. “Sweet tea? It’s my Gran’s recipe.”

  I didn’t wait for Sam’s answer. I filled two glasses, handed one to Sam and stepped onto the porch. I sat on the bench, on the tiny half Gran used to sit on and gazed out at the fading light. It didn’t take long for Sam to fill the empty space beside me. Ignoring his presence so close by would be a challenge for any full-blooded female. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs, his hands circling the glass. His shoulder-length hair fell over his face. For the first time, Sam made me feel nervous. I shifted on the bench.

  “Don’t freak out, Kitten,” he said, without turning toward me.

  “I’m not.” I took a sip of the sweet tea and the flavor reminded me of Gran. Her secret was to use honey instead of sugar. I relaxed. “It’s just we haven’t talked about what happened last night.”

  “You said no. I respect that.”

  Well, in Gran’s books, the guy was supposed to go into full-on chasing mode. Not Sam, apparently. I wasn’t worth the fight.

  “But don’t think I’m giving up easy.” He could read my thoughts. “I just don’t think I’m what you need right now. Getting married again would be the stupidest thing you could do. Even to someone as awesome as me.”

  “I’m glad your ego hasn’t been hit too hard.” I fought back the smile that started to twist my lips. If only I had a quarter of Sam’s self-confidence, I’d be downright unbeatable.

  He stole a side glance at me and the hurt I saw in his eyes made me reach for him. I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow.

  “I don’t give a shit about my ego. I only care about you,” he muffled his words.

  “Why?” Josh had cared about me but we’d known each other for years. I’d known Sam for a month.

  “Because I’m a self-centered bastard and you make me think of me. So taking care of you is a bit like taking care of myself.”

  He rested his back against the bench and I pivoted slightly towards him. I’d never really tried to find out more. Sam Blackhawk had his own demons.

  “How are we the same?”

  “We’re alone.”

  I had no family and only two friends. One was my ex-husband-to-be, the other—Woodie—well, it looked like I didn’t know him that well after all.

  “What about your father? Your sister?” He’d mentioned her the night I performed the private gig back in Oxford. “She’s in England?”

  He nodded. “You met her. She’s the pretty American girl you served a couple of times at the pub. Petite, brunette.”

  I scratched my memory and a face shot in front of my eyes. Cute girl. I’d seen them talking to each other. “Madeleine?”

  “Madison.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was your sister?”

  “Because at the time, she didn’t know she was.”

  “Whoa! And here I was thinking I was the only one with the secret family.” Sam shrugged but didn’t share anything else. “And that loaded father of yours, does he know you exist?”

  I bit my tongue. That was harsh, but it made Sam chuckle. “He knows about me. Thanks Kitten.”

  “Are you close to him?”

  “I am. Didn’t grow up with him though, but I’ve stopped holding that against him. I respect him now. But it’d been real nice if he’d been around when I grew up. It wasn’t easy for me and it wasn’t easy for my mom.”

  “Is that the reason for last night’s big gesture?”

  “Partly.”

  “So why do you think getting married to you would be such a dumb idea now?”

  He placed the empty glass on the side table. For several long seconds he stared out into the front yard. Dusk had settled and I let myself enjoy the peace around us. His fingers entwined with mine. I let them stay there.

  When he talked again, his voice was low, as if he was whispering a secret into my ear. “You need to live, Kitten. You need to move on and find out who you really are. And you need to do that on your own.”

  “I’ve no idea where to start. I’m selling the farm, cutting my ties with Steep Hill. After that, I don’t know.”

  “You’ll find out. Take some risks; be a bit selfish.”

  “Selfish?”

  “It’s always been about someone else with you. Your grandmother, Josh, Lucas. Never you. Time for a change. If you don’t do that now, you’ll keep on missing your life.”

  I was about to repeat myself because I still had no idea where or how to start over. Well, not totally true. Nashville was still my dream. I just wasn’t sure I was brave enough to chase it.

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “I have to go back to England for a while. My sister needs me. But I’ll keep an eye on you.” He squeezed my hand and he let me see the hope in his eyes. “Maybe you’ll make some time for me once you’ve figured out what you want to do.”

  I nodded. Could Sam be my second chance at love? Josh had found Eleanor after all. But could we work as a couple? Could I work with anyone?

  “I’ll always have time for you, Sam. But you need to be honest with yourself.”

  “How so?”

  “I think it’s a part of who you are to look after the people in your life and save the day. Like wanting to marry me and adopt Lucas. But you’re not in love with me.”

  He stared at me for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Maybe you’re right, but I like you very much, Cassie O’Malley.”

  “And I like you very much Sam Blackhawk.”

  I rested my head in the hollow of his neck. He let me snuggle against him. We didn’t say another word until long after night had fallen.

  thirty-eight

  Josh

  The cab stopped in front of the grand avenue that led to the Carrington residence in Potomac Village. Seven bedrooms, same number of bathrooms, library, pool, the whole shebang. Still a modest affair given the owners’ considerable wealth. The Carringtons were old money. They didn’t splash.

  I paid the fare and stepped out of the car, my travel bag slung across my shoulders. I’d come straight from the airport but I wouldn’t be staying here tonight.

  The double-paneled door opened before I even rang the bell. Lenor appeared on the porch. She looked as lovely as always. But I wasn’t fooled by the perfect hair and the fashionable clothes. The mascara under her eyes was smudged and her lower lip swollen as if she’d been biting it for days.

  As soon as I got close, she snuggled against me. I couldn’t help wrapping my arms around her. She felt frail. I breathed in her familiar scent, “Chanel Numero Cinq” as Eleanor pronounced it in her flawless French.

  “It’s so good to see you at last. It’s been so long.” The strain in her voice twisted my h
eart.

  Two weeks apart and I hadn’t missed her. I swallowed the bad taste of my betrayal.

  “Come in. I’ve prepared tea for us.” She pulled me inside the hallway. “I even brought back some macaroons from Paris. You wolfed them down the last time you were here.”

  I’d spent last Christmas with the Carringtons, partly here in D.C. and partly at their house in the Hamptons. Yeah, several universes away from Steep Hill.

  “Go to the library. I’ll bring the tea in there.”

  I nodded silently. Lenor didn’t seem to notice I hadn’t said a word since I’d arrived. I made my way toward the library. I sat on the Chesterfield and the old leather squeaked under my weight. I kept the vacuum inside my head. If I started thinking, I’d muddy the thoughts I’d carefully formulated during my trip from Kansas. But maybe what I had to say was more like a Band-Aid: I’d better rip it off quickly rather than bit by bit.

  Eleanor was back. She kept chattering while serving tea. Mundane stuff, empty stuff. She’d been spending time with her socialite mother. I’d never felt connected with this version of Lenor and I had tried to help her break away from it. Obviously I had failed.

  I cut through the bullshit. “Has your mom gone into rehab?”

  My question startled Lenor and she splashed some tea over the side of the cup, causing her to stop the small talk. For this I was grateful.

  “Daddy doesn’t want me to talk about it.”

  She handed me a cup and saucer and a creamy macaroon. Every one cost more than a day’s wages. When the tea ritual was over, Eleanor settled back against the sofa, a twin to the one I was sitting on. We drank in silence. I wanted to break through this stone wall of hers.

  “So she is in rehab, then.”

  “Yes. Since Monday. Daddy is really embarrassed by the whole thing. I mean, first the divorce, now this. What will people think?”

  “Who gives a shit about what people think?” Lenor’s eyes shot from her cup to me. I had never talked to her like this before. “What matters is that your mother sorts herself out for good.”

  Lenor gave a slow nod. Her expression fizzled. “I think going back to France was what she needed. It’s very difficult…” She placed the saucer on the table between us. “It’s very difficult to exist around Daddy.”

  This was the first time she had criticized her father.

  Maybe it wasn’t my place anymore but I wanted her to find a way to exist beyond Bruce Carrington. I grabbed her hand across the mahogany table. Her skin was cold underneath my fingers.

  “Lenor, your father loves you but you have to start stepping out of his shadow and living for yourself. You have to be your own person and stop living through the people you love.”

  Her eyes were now fixed on me and glistening. “You’re leaving me, aren’t you?”

  Her question fell between us like a dead weight.

  I didn’t move. I kept my hand over hers. I felt sick.

  “Yes. How do you know?”

  “I’ve seen that look before. I was in love with my childhood’s sweetheart once. I had what you have. Except he didn’t love me back.” She gave me a sad chuckle.

  She had never said anything about having her heart broken before.

  “What happened back home?” she continued. “Has she changed her mind?”

  I rested my back against the sofa, breaking the contact between us.

  “No. She still expects us to adopt Lucas. She gave her word and she won’t go back on it. I’m the one who isn’t keeping my word.”

  “So you’re going after her.”

  “Yes.” I said the word in a breath.

  Lenor sat straight, almost regal. Stiffness was her way of coping but she wasn’t fooling me.

  “I knew you would.” She glued her eyes on her wringing hands. “I almost left Maman on her own in Paris to fly to Kansas City. I knew that if you spent time at home with Cassandra and Lucas, I would lose you.”

  I wanted to say how sorry I was, but it would sound lame.

  “I didn’t mean to lead you on.” That was the only truth I had for her. “We get along so well. I knew you would be a great partner, a great mom. It’s just…”

  “You love her.” Her voice was soft, and she said the words with a sad smile.

  “I do.”

  “Then go.” Her hands were now crossed over her stomach.

  Lenor was proud. She wanted to cry but she could not let go in front of me. So I stood and grabbed my bag which I had left at the foot of the Chesterfield. As much I had not missed her these last weeks, I knew I would miss Lenor for the rest of my life.

  She kept her gaze fixed downwards, so I walked towards the door. Before leaving the room, before leaving her life, I turned back.

  “Lenor, be who you really want to be. Not what your dad or any other man wants you to be. You have so much fire inside you. Don’t let it die.”

  “I’ll try,” she said without looking at me.

  I left the library. I left the grand house. I left Lenor and hoped she would find her own happiness one day soon.

  thirty-nine

  Cassie

  Greenwood Cemetery was where people ended up in Steep Hill. That said, I used to think the whole town was a freakin’ graveyard because living here was like a death sentence.

  That was where Gran was resting. In peace, I hoped. Although I had that feeling she could still see me. She never used to pass judgment but what she thought now of my life, I wasn’t brave enough to want to know. I switched off the engine of my Chevy. My Chevy that was a few miles away from the scrapheap.

  The last week had been busy. Sorting out Gran’s papers, dealing with the realtor, patching up my friendship with Woodie. Of course, there’d also been Sam. He’d left earlier today to go back to Oxford for this mysterious family business of his.

  But it was back to “Cassie on her own” mode now. It’d stay that way until further notice. I hadn’t closed all doors though.

  There was one last thing I had to do before leaving Steep Hill behind. It was one last goodbye to the two people who’d been my entire life. I could always say goodbye. That didn’t mean I’d stop loving them. That didn’t mean I’d stop carrying them in my heart.

  I slammed the door of the Chevy and let the wind play with my hair. It was warm and dry. I enjoyed it. It was worth all the ancient buildings and history I’d seen in England. And if that made me a hillbilly, I couldn’t care less. I also enjoyed how there wasn’t one sound apart from the wind whizzing through the grass of the prairie. And the endless Kansas sky, so big that it didn’t hang over me, but engulfed all around me. I could touch it and tonight it was blazing red.

  I walked underneath the old wooden archway marking the entrance to the cemetery. There was another entrance on the other side. You could reach it through a path that started at Sweet Angel Point. He might come from there. I snooped around the graves. Some of them dated back to when Steep Hill was a cattle town. I’d always liked it here. Maybe because my mom wasn’t buried here. Otherwise I wouldn’t have liked the place that much. I didn’t even know where she was. It didn’t matter.

  In the month since Gran’s funeral, the grass had dried. Gone was the squishy ground I’d walked on that shitty day and the mud that had caked itself to my best shoes. I guessed it hadn’t rained while I was away.

  This was the last time I’d see him. I couldn’t get my head around it. I didn’t want to. I reached the top of the butte at the center of the cemetery. I passed the small pyramid that marked the resting place of one of Steep Hill’s oldest families. On the other side was Gran’s grave. Small in comparison, but my grandmother didn’t need anything sticking out of the ground to make anyone who’d known her remember her.

  He stood there. Next to the simple white stone that had her name on it. I was right. He’d come from Sweet Angel Point. He wore those same old jeans and a black T-shirt. It was so washed out that I only knew the name of the band written on it because it’d been my present for his bir
thday.

  I swallowed hard.

  Josh looked up from the gravestone. My heart danced around my ribcage. The last time… was it also the last time a man would have that effect on me? For sure, the years ahead would be damn plain. And I was only twenty-three.

  “Hi,” he greeted me. As always with Josh, I heard much more than just a “hi.” I heard so many of the other times he’d say that same little word.

  My lips twitched. “I’m glad you asked me to come with you.” My voice hadn’t broken so it was maybe safe to say more. “She’d be happy to see us together.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. I liked the way it made the skin of his forearms tighten over his muscles. “She must think I’m the scum of the earth.”

  “No, she doesn’t. She never did. She loved you dearly until the end.”

  He bit the inside of his cheek. “I never came to say goodbye.” He stole a glance at me but then shot back to the grave. “I told you I’ come and talk to her before leaving for Georgetown. I never did.”

  I already knew that. It was after I’d come back here for good and I’d prayed for him not to show up. After the Clarissa fiasco, I’d never have been able to look him in the eyes. Still, Gran had always kept a piece of her heart for Josh MacBride. If nothing else, I wanted him to leave with that truth. “She never held anything against you. She hoped things would work out eventually for the two of us.”

  “Wherever she is, she must be damn disappointed.”

  I thought about it for a moment. Gran wouldn’t have been disappointed. Sad, for sure. Sad I wasn’t going to have my “Happy Ever After” with the dashing Joshua MacBride. Iris O’Malley had been a hopeless romantic. She’d wished for me the same ending as for any of the heroines in the cheap novels she used to devour.

  But my “Happy Ending” wasn’t Josh’s problem. So I forced myself to look at the picture from a different angle. One that might make Gran happy.

  I gave him a sheepish smile. “You don’t hate me anymore.”

  His eyes shifted violently toward me and I stepped back.