by Susan Fox
Sunday nights at the Wild Rose, he danced with lots of women, holding them in his arms, feeling the sway of their hips as they followed his lead, smelling each one’s distinctive feminine scent. It was pleasant, but kind of impersonal. Supporting Cassidy’s slight weight had felt personal. Arousing. In a way that was more than just a hormonal physical response. She wasn’t just a pretty woman with a killer body seen passing on the street. He liked Cassidy; she provided valuable assistance at the Wild Rose; she was terrific with his daughter. But then he could say the same about Madisun. There was just something . . . personal about his feelings for Cassidy.
Did he want to be friends with a woman who aroused him, or was it better to impose some distance?
“Son?”
“Hmm? What did you say, Pops?”
“Cassidy fits in like she belongs.”
“Yeah.” She had that knack. Maybe it came from traveling so much.
Since they’d arrived an hour ago, she had tossed balls with kids and dogs, fetched a lemonade for white-haired Great-aunt Joan, and exchanged teasing comments with some of the guys and gals before his mom and Lizzie cornered her.
“Son, your mom’s so distracted by your lady friend—”
“She’s not my lady friend.”
Pops cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, the female you and Robin spent the afternoon with. Anyhow, what I was going to say is that the ribs are almost done and your mom hasn’t brought out the salads. Want to get them out of the fridge, then let everyone know dinner’s ready?”
“Sure.”
Dave brought out potato salad, three bean salad, tossed green salad, and several loaves of French bread. When he’d set everything on a picnic table, he rounded people up. His sister and mom bustled away to help serve the food, and then Cassidy rose. She tested her left leg before putting weight on it. When he and Robin had picked her up earlier, she’d said that a cool shower and a nap had fixed her up, but muscles did tighten when you sat.
“Giving you trouble again?” His gaze focused on her ankles, bare below her capris, and her slim feet in sandals. Her toenails were painted a rosy pink. Sexy feet. Sexy ankles.
“It’s fine now. I’m sure this helped.” She hoisted a brown bottle. “Caribou Crossing does great beer.”
Forcing his thoughts away from her sexiness, he said, “Yeah, the local brewery’s only been in business two years, but it’s a real asset to the community.” He and Cassidy strolled up the lawn in the wake of adults and half a dozen kids, ranging from toddlers to adolescents.
“Four different beers, and they’re all popular,” she said. “I’ve seen that the couple of times I’ve worked in the Wild Rose’s bar. Speaking of which, I’m working there tomorrow night. Roy says the joint really hops on line-dancing night.”
“It sure does.” He cleared his throat, feeling a little awkward talking about work here in his parents’ yard with this woman who was an employee, maybe a new friend, and a hormone inducer. “You’re doing a good job at the Wild Rose. I’m glad we hired you.”
“Me too.”
They lined up for spare ribs and all the trimmings. The patio was crowded, with adults occupying a motley collection of chairs, and kids parked up and down the steps to the garden. Lizzie beckoned Cassidy to a chair she’d saved. Dave got himself a Pale Ale and, with all the chairs now taken, put the bottle on the porch railing and leaned against it. As usual, he was content to listen more than talk.
That was typical of the men in his family. The womenfolk always seemed to have more than enough to say. They covered the subject of his sister-in-law’s pregnancy, moved on to Karen and Jamal’s wedding next month, then turned to the town’s planned celebrations for Canada Day on Monday.
Cassidy mostly listened attentively, eating with obvious enjoyment and occasionally chipping in a comment or asking a question. Dave’s mom asked her where she’d been last year for Canada Day, and she said she’d celebrated the Fourth of July instead, eating pancakes in the plaza in Santa Fe. The women asked about her travels, and she told a few stories.
Darkness fell and some people drifted away to get dessert and coffee; parents checked on children; Pops went off with Robin and a couple of her cousins. His mom stayed talking to Cassidy. And Dave, even though there were now empty chairs, continued to lean against the patio railing and listen.
A baby’s cry broke into one of Cassidy’s stories and Dave’s cousin Andrea approached, rocking the little one in her arms. “Time for us to head home and tuck the brood into bed.”
His mom rose to hug her and kiss the baby. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”
Once Andrea and her family started the migration, others followed. Robin came over. “Dad, we can stay a while, can’t we?”
Dave glanced at Cassidy. “Okay with you, or are you tired out?”
“I’m fine and I’d love to stay.”
“Of course you’ll stay,” his mom said. “We’ve been so busy talking, we haven’t even had dessert. Let’s get some cherry cobbler and coffee.”
Cassidy, Dave, and his mom all served themselves. The two women headed back to their chairs and Dave hovered, wondering if he should make himself scarce. He had enjoyed Cassidy’s stories, the animation on her face, the glimpse of a different kind of life even if it wasn’t one he’d ever choose. Enjoyed, too, the mellow buzz of not exactly arousal—his mom’s presence ruled that out—but male awareness. On the other hand, if Mom and Cassidy were going to talk girl talk, he didn’t want to hang around.
“Sit down, son,” his mom said, and he obeyed.
After tasting the cobbler, Cassidy said, “Mmm, this is delicious.”
His mother gave a self-deprecating smile. “All this traveling you’ve done, I bet you’ve tasted far fancier desserts.”
“Fancier maybe, but not better.”
“Well, thanks very much.” She cocked her head. “With those itchy feet of yours, I’m guessing you grew up in a military family?”
“Actually, my dad was a Realtor. In Victoria.”
“Did he grow up there?”
“No, my mother did. Luis—my dad—is from Mexico.” She finished the last bite of cobbler and put the bowl down.
“You call him Luis?”
She nodded. “And my mom’s Justine.”
Often when Cassidy talked, she fell into the rhythm of a natural storyteller, giving interesting details, injecting humor, throwing out teasers so the listener was drawn in and asked a question. Now, though, her words were brief and almost without inflection. Seemed like her folks weren’t her favorite subject.
That didn’t stop his mom. “How did they meet?”
After a sip of coffee, Cassidy said, almost reluctantly, “Justine was a university student. She and a couple of girlfriends went to Acapulco at Christmas break. Luis was this charming, gorgeous, sexy Mexican who worked at the excursion desk at the hotel. They both fell hard.”
His mother nodded. “Every girl’s holiday dream.”
“I guess. Anyhow, he came back to Canada with her.”
“I imagine your grandparents weren’t entirely thrilled,” Dave’s mom said dryly.
Cassidy’s lips twitched. “No, though there was only Gramps. Justine’s mother had died when she was young. Gramps had a fair bit of money—he was a successful Realtor—and he spoiled her to bits. She had all the lessons, toys, clothes. She was his princess. Gramps figured Luis was after her money, or was using her to get Canadian citizenship.”
Dave leaned forward, curious. “And?”
“Actually, he wasn’t. He really did love her.” She paused, then added, with a cynicism that surprised him, “Or, you know, they were young people in lust and they thought they were in love. Anyhow, Luis was smart and ambitious, and he’d probably have done well in Mexico, but he had no reason to stay there. His parents were dead and he wasn’t close to the rest of his family. Once he was in Victoria, he studied real estate and actually impressed Gramps. He went to work for him, he and Justine got married, an
d she promptly got pregnant with me. She dropped out of university—art and drama—and stayed at home to raise me.”
“It sounds like things worked out well for all of you,” Dave’s mom said.
“Yeah, for a while.” There was a rare wistful note in Cassidy’s voice. “A couple years later my brother came along. JJ—James Junior, named after Gramps. Yes, we were happy. Justine and Luis both had a flair for drama. They made everyday stuff into something special.” Her smile faded and her lips twisted. “They loved, they fought, they made up. And then they didn’t make up, and got divorced.”
His mom reached over to touch her arm. “I’m sorry to hear that. How old were you?”
Cassidy puffed out air. “The first time or the second?”
“What?” The word popped out of Dave’s mouth.
She turned to him. “Oh yeah. They’ve done it twice. So far.”
So far? Before he could ask, she went on. “They divorced when I was seven. Luis went to the south of France with a sexy former client. JJ and I stayed with Justine. She dated a lot, finally got together with this guy and we moved to Toronto; then that broke up. Luis split with the south-of-France woman. And—can’t you just hear the swell of violin strings?—he and Justine realized that it had all been a big mistake and they loved each other madly.”
“They remarried,” his mom said.
“Yeah, when I was ten. It lasted about six years. This time it was Justine who took off to Europe—with a jet-setter guy who flattered and fascinated her—leaving my brother and me with Luis. Gramps was dead by then . . .” A grimace suggested she’d been close to him. “Luis was working and dating, JJ hung out with a couple of buddies, and I bided my time waiting to finish high school and get out of there.”
As Dave listened to her, heard an undertone of pain in her voice, his eyes widened. Her parents sounded self-centered, like their love lives were more important than their children. He glanced at his mom, grateful for her and Pops. She gave him an understanding smile, then said softly, “Cassidy, I’m sorry you and your brother had to go through that.”
Cassidy shrugged. “When I graduated, I went to Greece, where Justine and her guy were living. I stayed with them a couple of months but I didn’t get along with him. Besides, there was a whole world out there to explore.”
She glanced at Dave with a smile. “That’s when I learned to toss all my worldly belongings in a backpack and go wherever the mood took me.”
And her parents were too self-absorbed to worry about her. No wonder she was so independent.
“We’re glad you ended up in Caribou Crossing,” Dave’s mom said.
“Thanks, but this isn’t the end of the road for me.”
“Do you see an end to your road?” Dave asked, trying to get his home-centered head around her lifestyle.
“I don’t think in those terms. Every day’s a new beginning. That’s as far ahead as I want to see.”
“Huh.” In a weird way, that almost made sense. If he thought ahead—to Robin growing up and getting her own place, marrying and starting a family; to his life being even more empty than it was now . . . No, that end to his road wasn’t one bit appealing.
Forcing that thought away, he remembered something Cassidy had said earlier. “You said your parents have been divorced twice so far. D’you mean they got back together again?”
“Yeah, marriage number three was three years ago. They live in Acapulco, because that’s”—she made air quotes—“‘where their passion for each other truly flowers.’”
Dave caught his mom’s amused glance and suppressed an eye roll.
“Maybe it’ll be third-time lucky,” his mom said tactfully. “Sometimes it takes people a while to grow up and figure out what they really want.”
Dave leaned forward to squeeze her shoulder. “Says the woman who’s been married to her high school sweetheart for thirty-five years.”
“Thirty-six, but who’s counting?” She shrugged. “Ken and I knew from the beginning and we’ve never had any doubts. But that’s not how it works out for everyone.” Her gray eyes met Dave’s with a look of compassion. “That doesn’t mean you should give up, though.”
He frowned at her. She knew how Anita’s illness and death had gutted him. No way would he go through that again.
Cassidy gave one of her musical burbles of laughter. “It’s not giving up if you never chase the dream in the first place.”
Dave realized that she’d thought his mom’s comment had been addressed to her. And who knows, maybe his mother had been talking to both of them.
Cassidy went on. “I’m happy for you and Ken, Sheila. But you’ve been sprinkled with some kind of magic dust, to beat the odds the way you have.”
“You don’t believe in true love?” His mother sounded more than a little shocked.
Dave did believe in it. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been so furious at fate when Anita was diagnosed. He wouldn’t have been so angry that she couldn’t beat the disease, that the power of his love couldn’t somehow cure her. His heart wouldn’t have shattered when she died.
“It’s not my place to speak for other people,” Cassidy said. “For me, no, I don’t believe in it. I believe in being independent, respecting others, living life to its fullest. Not chasing unrealistic dreams.”
“Love’s not always the best thing,” Dave said grimly.
He could see the effort his mother put into forcing a smile and saying lightly, “You kids today. I don’t know what the world’s coming to.”
Chapter Six
While Madisun bent over her spreadsheet, Cassidy surreptitiously ran a hand over her left thigh, trying to massage out the pins and needles. The two women were in the Wild Rose’s dining room on Saturday afternoon, preparing for Karen MacLean and Jamal Estevez’s wedding reception. They wore white cotton short-sleeved shirts and pants, as did all the staff who would work the reception. Madisun’s long hair was pulled back into a sleek knot at her nape.
Cassidy forced back a yawn. She felt tired and draggy, but there were hours to go before her workday would be done. She’d been in Caribou Crossing for a month and loved it, but unfortunately, healthy living hadn’t cured her fatigue or healed her leg. She’d assumed that she’d strained it and it would heal with time, but now she wondered if it might be a pinched nerve.
The normally cool and collected Madisun wasn’t in fantastic shape at the moment either. Color flushed her cheeks and her fingers trembled as she checked items off and scribbled notes.
Cassidy, who’d come to like and respect the younger woman, touched her hand. “Calm down. Everything’s going to be wonderful.”
“Perfect.” Madisun’s eyes widened with what looked almost like panic. “Everything has to be perfect. Dave put me in charge.”
Cassidy had played a role in that. Dave, a close friend of the bride’s, had been invited to the wedding, which was currently getting under way in the town square half a block away. He’d mentioned that he couldn’t attend because he had to oversee reception preparations. The man could be a control freak, but so was Madisun. Cassidy had persuaded him to leave his assistant manager in charge, so he wouldn’t hurt Karen’s feelings by not seeing her get married.
She patted Madisun’s arm. “Because he knows you’ll do a great job.” Quickly, she amended, “A perfect job, I mean. Now, what’s next on the list?”
“The bar.”
“Tick it off. I just checked with Roy. And Mitch has the food and the servers under control. And the décor looks fabulous.” She gestured around the room. The dark wood and brass were tempered with peach and white table settings and vases of ivory-colored orchids blended with pink, orange, and peach freesias. The sweet, fresh scent of the freesias perfumed the air. “All that’s left is putting the place cards on the tables, right? And you have the seating chart.”
Madisun took a deep breath. “Okay, that sounds right.” She fumbled the seating chart out from under the spreadsheet. “Oh God, I’ve lost the place
cards!”
“They’re here.” Cassidy grabbed the stack off a nearby table. “I sorted them by table, but we should double-check as we put them out. Starting with the easiest, the head table. Read me the names on the seating chart.” She and Madisun knew this table by heart, but it might calm the younger woman to get a process going.
Obediently, Madisun read from the chart. “Karen and Jamal, of course. The best man, Jake, and the matron of honor, Brooke.”
“Who, conveniently, happen to be husband and wife.” She put cards on the table.
“The maid of honor, Lark Cantrell, who doesn’t have a plus one. Karen’s parents and her brother and his wife.” She looked up. “It’s too bad Jamal has no family. He’s outnumbered.”
“At least he has Jake.” The two men, both RCMP officers, were good friends.
Cassidy and Madisun moved on, table by table. The bride and groom had kept things small. There were RCMP colleagues, local friends, and a handful of Karen’s relatives from Ontario.
At the final table, Madisun read, “Jess and Evan, Dave and Sally, and—”
“You’re really sure that’s a good idea?” Cassidy asked.
The younger woman frowned. “We discussed this before.”
“I know, but it still seems strange.”
Over the past weeks, Cassidy had learned a lot about the intriguing Dave Cousins. Not much from the man himself, as he tended to be closemouthed about his personal life, but from staff at the Wild Rose; her landlady, Ms. Haldenby; Dave’s family; and other townspeople. Having experienced small towns before, she wasn’t surprised that people minded each other’s business. In the nicest possible way.
She’d found out that she had guessed wrong about Jess breaking his heart. In fact, their marriage had split up because he had fallen in love with Anita, a recently arrived teacher. That surprised Cassidy; it seemed so out of character for him. And, oddly, people didn’t censure him. He was Caribou Crossing’s fair-haired boy who could do no wrong. She’d lost track of the number of times someone had referred to him as the nicest guy in town, and told her about some problem he’d solved or generous act he’d bestowed.