by Susan Fox
According to the rumor mill, Dave and Anita had nobly tried to deny and resist their mutual attraction. But Jess noticed that Dave seemed stressed and miserable, and she forced him to tell her the truth. Then she—Caribou Crossing’s fair-haired girl despite her chestnut locks—nobly freed him from their marriage. It seemed that although Jess and Dave did love each other it wasn’t that “once in a lifetime” kind of love, as Maribeth at Days of Your put it. So Jess freed Dave to find that kind of love with Anita, and she later found it herself with Evan, who’d been her best friend as a kid but had left Caribou Crossing for ten years.
Tragically for Dave, he and Anita had barely announced their engagement when she was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. She’d undergone every possible treatment, with Dave steadfastly at her side, but had died in a few short months. That had been three years ago. Now Cassidy understood the sadness in the man’s eyes, and why his dimple had gone into hiding.
“You’ve seen them all together,” Madisun said. “Dave gets along great with Evan and Jess. He and Jess are like, you know, best friends.”
That did seem to be true. But didn’t Madisun see the occasional tinge of envy in Dave’s hazel eyes? How must he feel, having lost his love to brain cancer, then seeing his ex-wife so happy with her new husband? Though, of course, she reminded herself, he was dating Sally Ryland, a widow who lived out at Ryland Riding, giving lessons and boarding horses.
The first afternoon Cassidy had ridden with Dave, he’d said there was no special woman in his life. It turned out that he was being discreet. She’d heard about him dating Sally from a number of people. Apparently the two of them were taking things slow and Dave even pretended they were just friends. Still, he was out at her place almost every Sunday. And today, she was his date for the wedding and reception.
The news about Dave and Sally’s relationship had put an end to Cassidy’s tentative plan to liven up his sex life. Now she knew why Dave, who sometimes seemed attracted to her, never acted on it. She respected that. Though she was a firm believer in casual sex, she didn’t respect people who cheated on their partners.
Nor did she believe in sex for the sake of sex; there had to be some kind of connection. She hadn’t felt that with any of the half dozen or so guys who’d asked her out. Yeah, she’d have a coffee or beer with them and chat, but it never got more serious than that. None of them measured up to Dave, nor turned her on the way he did. She sighed. Lucky Sally.
Cassidy hadn’t met the woman yet, and was definitely curious. “How about Sally?” she asked as she distributed the last place cards. “She gets along with Jess?”
“Jess gets along with everyone.” Madisun’s tense expression lightened for a moment. “She’s a lot like you, that way.”
“Thanks.” Cassidy had spoken to Jess a couple of times on line-dancing nights, but since she’d been working there hadn’t been time for a real conversation. From what she’d seen, Jess was natural, outgoing, sensible, and definitely pretty, with her sleek chestnut hair and even features. She was also clearly very much in love with Evan.
“But I haven’t seen her with Sally,” Madisun said. “I haven’t even seen Dave with Sally.”
For some reason, Cassidy had trouble thinking of him dating Sally. Was it because she hadn’t seen them together either? Or because she really wished he was single and available for a little fun? Or because he didn’t seem like a happy man? His dimple never popped. He laughed, but it was never a belly laugh. Sometimes a shadow crossed his face, and then she did her best, with a touch or a light comment, to bring him back from whatever memory disturbed him.
“Sally hardly ever comes to town,” Madisun went on. “She and her husband moved here a while back, and set up Ryland Riding. It was like their own little world. Then he died of a massive heart attack when he was only thirty.”
“I heard about that. It’s so sad.” And another reason to not buy into the notion of happily ever after relationships.
“She still keeps to herself—except for her students, of course. I don’t know if she’s snotty, or shy, or what. Dave goes out and helps her with stuff, and they have dinner or, you know, whatever.” Madisun flashed a quick, conspiratorial grin, and then the grin turned to a frown. “I’m just not sure she’s right for him. He’s such an amazing guy, he deserves someone special.”
“I know” She studied the striking Native Canadian woman. “You’re not, uh, interested in him yourself, are you?”
“Me?” Madisun shook her head quickly. “No way. He’s like Evan. They’re mentors.”
“And friends. It’s obvious you’re close to both of them.”
“I guess.” Her smile was self-deprecating. “It’s kind of hard to believe that a girl like me can be friends with men like them.”
Madisun, like Dave, was closemouthed about her personal life. Still, the gossip mill had enlightened Cassidy. She knew that the young woman’s father drank and had trouble keeping a job. Her mom hadn’t finished high school and was raising Madisun’s eight younger siblings.
“You’re hardworking, smart, and nice,” Cassidy said. “You’re exactly the kind of woman they’d like and respect.”
Madisun’s only flaw, as far as she could see, was that she could be too serious. On a whim, Cassidy went over to one of the large flower arrangements on a sideboard and tugged off a few freesia blossoms from where the loss would never be noticed. She tucked a couple of pink blossoms into the left pocket of Madisun’s shirt, a bright, almost mischievous touch against the stark white uniform. Into her own pocket she tucked a couple of peach-colored blossoms.
Then, hearing excited voices from outside, she said, “The hordes are descending. Karen and Jamal are married.”
“May they have many happy years together.” Madisun’s tone was dead serious.
“Uh, yeah.” Who knew, maybe the newlyweds would be like Sheila and Ken Cousins, or the white-haired dance teachers Jimmy B and Bets, rather than like Cassidy’s parents or her brother and his ex-wife. Sprinkled with magic dust, as she’d said to Sheila. An odd wistfulness sent a pang through her heart, but she shook it off, reminding herself she was the realistic one who didn’t believe in chasing crazy dreams that might end up breaking your heart.
She and Madisun hurried toward the bar to help Roy and his staff.
The next hour went by in a whirl as staff served drinks to guests. Adrenaline overrode Cassidy’s fatigue as she worked with Madisun and assisted the other staff.
The excited chatter stopped dead when the bridal party, fresh from being photographed in the town square, arrived with bright smiles. Karen looked stunning and glowed with happiness. Tall and shapely, she wore an off-the-shoulder ivory gown with lace and seed pearls. Her glossy dark brown hair was caught up in an artfully simple style, accented with a headpiece that matched the dress. Robin had said that her gramma Brooke was doing Karen’s hair.
Jamal, a striking man with a smile that wouldn’t quit, was her perfect match. He wore a light gray suit, a crisp white dress shirt, and a silver-and-black-striped tie. He was, Cassidy had learned, half African American and half Puerto Rican American. The clothing looked great against his beautiful skin, which was the color of dark coffee.
Madisun stepped forward with a tray of flute glasses filled with the bubbly passion fruit drink that Karen had chosen for the party, and served the bride, groom, then the rest of the wedding party.
The bride and groom had wanted an informal celebration and decided against a receiving line. Instead, they began to circulate around the room, chatting with their guests.
Cassidy checked that the wedding photographer was on the job, moving around unobtrusively and snapping informal shots. Then she picked up another tray of flutes filled with the peachy-gold punch. The drink was nonalcoholic, because Jamal, Brooke, and two or three others were recovering alcoholics. The guests who really wanted booze could get drinks at the bar.
She greeted Karen’s family, who were staying at the Wild Rose, and said hi
to townspeople she knew, refilling her tray as needed and trying to ignore the pins and needles in her leg. A fresh tray in hand, she gazed across the room at Dave, who looked great but slightly uncomfortable in a dark gray suit, cream shirt, and striped tie. He stood talking to Brooke and Jake Brannon, who were holding hands. The woman by his side must be Sally Ryland.
As Cassidy walked toward them, she checked out the other woman. Sally was attractive, with short, strawberry blond hair curling loosely around an oval-shaped face, greenish gray eyes, and freckles she hadn’t bothered to conceal with make-up. In low-heeled pumps, she was a couple inches taller than Cassidy in her flats. Her build was toned and lean, on the thin side. Her short-sleeved green dress was flattering, but understated. In fact, there was something about the way Sally stood, a little round shouldered, close to Dave but not touching him, that almost made her look like she’d rather not be noticed. Not snobby, Cassidy thought, but perhaps shy.
Cassidy stepped up with her tray. “Would anyone like another glass of passion punch?”
As Brooke and Sally reached for glasses, Dave smiled warmly. “Hey, Cassidy. Things are going well, don’t you think?”
His smile was a magnet, tugging on something inside her. Making her want to move closer, to touch him, to press her lips to his smiling ones. Why did he have to be dating Sally?
She gave him a carefully professional smile. “Absolutely. Madisun’s got everything spreadsheeted to death, along with Plan Bs and Plan Cs in case of glitches.” She said hi to Brooke and Jake, who she’d met before.
Dave said, “Cassidy, this is Sally Ryland. Sally, say hello to Cassidy Esperanza. She’s Madisun Joe’s right-hand assistant.”
The two women murmured greetings. Seeing Sally’s face up close, Cassidy realized that she had to be several years older than Dave, just as Brooke was older than Jake.
When Dave gazed at Sally, Cassidy read fondness in his expression, and protectiveness. But not passion. And Sally mostly looked nervous. Was the woman so shy that it bothered her to attend a wedding reception with her boyfriend?
As Cassidy continued on with her tray of drinks, her mind was still on Dave and Sally. They had both lost the partners they loved deeply. Maybe they were a perfect match, but as Madisun and one or two other people had suggested, perhaps Sally wasn’t right for Dave. Maybe each of them was stuck in the grieving stage and couldn’t move on. The only person in Cassidy’s life who had died—aside from her great-grandmother, when Cassidy was only six—was Gramps. She’d loved him so much and he’d been the only stability in her life. His death, when she was fifteen and her parents were breaking up for the second time, had shaken her to the core.
But you had to move on. Lighten up, loosen up, get on with life.
And speaking of moving on, a quick check of her watch told her it was almost time to herd the group into the dining room for a light dinner. Later, they’d return to the bar for dancing.
She loved dancing. She’d really like to dance with Dave. On line-dancing nights, she’d seen him dance with Karen, Brooke, Jess, and others while she’d been busy serving drinks.
Tonight, again she’d be staff. And—hah!—dancing? She just hoped her tingly left leg didn’t go numb. It was tough keeping her balance when she couldn’t feel one leg.
During her normal workdays, she would sneak into a vacant room during her breaks, curl up on the bed for a catnap, then smooth the bedspread and return to work refreshed. Tonight, all the rooms were full and she likely wouldn’t get any breaks anyhow.
No, she wouldn’t be dancing tonight. She’d be lucky if she could stumble the four blocks home to Ms. Haldenby’s.
Chapter Seven
It was after midnight when Dave, tired but satisfied, walked from the dining room into the lobby and headed over to talk to Sam, at the desk.
“Everyone’s cleared out?” the night manager asked.
Dave nodded. “Except for a couple of staff doing the final tidy-up.” With a sigh of relief, he peeled off his unaccustomed jacket and tie, and stretched. “The guests have all gone and the bride and groom are tucked up in the luxury suite. They’ve got a gourmet room service breakfast on order, then they’ll head to the airport to fly to Maui.” He undid buttons at the neck of his dress shirt, then also undid the cuffs and rolled them up. Now he felt more like his normal self.
“Honeymooning in Hawaii,” Sam mused. “Romantic.”
“Yeah.” From the way the newlyweds looked at each other, Dave figured they’d be just as happy spending their entire honeymoon up in their suite at the Wild Rose.
He and Jess had never had a honeymoon. Never even had sex until after Robin was born. But then, their marriage hadn’t exactly been the usual sort from the get-go. And that was a secret known only to him, Jess, and Evan—and Anita, but she was gone now.
“I’m glad Karen’s going to keep working in Caribou Crossing,” Sam said. “She’s a damned fine cop. She sure made a beautiful bride too.” He had stopped into the bar for a glass of punch before he’d gone on shift, and taken a whirl around the dance floor with Karen.
“She did.” Dave couldn’t help imagining how Anita would have looked as a bride. She’d been traditional, so the ceremony would have been in a church. That would have suited Dave just fine, seeing her dressed in white lace walking down the aisle toward him. But then he’d have married her anywhere, anytime, and been the happiest man in the world.
After she’d been diagnosed, he’d kept trying to get his fiancée to marry him, even when she was so sick she couldn’t leave her hospital bed. She’d turned him down, though. For some reason, she seemed to think it would be harder on him to lose a wife than a fiancée.
Crazy woman didn’t seem to realize that, whatever the type of ring on her finger, she was the love of his life. Losing her wasn’t hard; it was soul destroying.
“Dave?”
He forced his “I’m fine” face back in place. “Sorry. I was drifting. It’s been a long day.” Sad, of course, in making him think of what he’d lost. But happy, too, to see his good friend Karen so confident and excited about her future with Jamal. He’d try to hang on to the happy.
“Go on up to bed. The inn’s in good hands.”
Dave nodded and headed across the lobby to the corridor that led to his office, the back stairs, and the door out to the parking lot. Though he was tired and, yeah, a little melancholy, he was also still energized from the reception. Even though he’d let Cassidy persuade him to put Madisun in charge so he could play the role of guest, he’d kept an eye on how things were going. His assistant manager and the rest of his staff had come through beautifully. He’d be sure to thank them, and give Madisun a bonus. Mitch too, and Roy, and perhaps Cassidy.
She’d been a good hire. He only hoped her wanderlust didn’t kick in before the busy tourist season ended. In the fall, Madisun would return to university in Vancouver. Likely Cassidy would head off somewhere too. He remembered what she’d said during their first conversation: India, Albuquerque, or Cuba.
He’d miss the two women. Madisun had become his right hand. Cassidy had become . . . what, exactly? A friend, for sure. Her bright smile warmed his workday, her rides with him and Robin were highlights of his week, and on the couple of occasions she’d mingled with his family and friends she’d fit in like she belonged there. Fit in, even though she was so different from anyone else he knew, with her crazy philosophy of life.
She was capable, but in an effortless way that made it look like she wasn’t trying. She was fun; she’d say outrageous things; she was generous and occasionally quite insightful.
And why was he cataloguing her virtues? She was his employee. He didn’t want a relationship. Nor did she, at least not with him. She’d stopped with the teasing, double entendre comments. He’d seen her out with other guys and she’d no doubt found someone who interested her more than he did. Which was good. It was crazy to feel a twinge of jealousy.
He stopped at the door to his office. Madisun and Cassi
dy had taken the unopened wedding gifts there for safekeeping. Brooke and Jake would pick them up tomorrow and hold on to them until the honeymooners returned and could open them.
Wanting to verify that they’d remembered to lock up, he tested the knob. It turned in his hand. He opened the door and glanced in. The room was dark, illuminated only by light from the hallway. He checked that the gifts were stacked in a massive pile in one corner, and was about to close and lock the door when something white on the couch caught his eye.
He flicked the light switch. And saw a slender form in white pants and shirt curled up, her back toward him. Cassidy. That black pixie haircut gave her away.
The light must have woken her because she stirred, stretched like a cat, then lazily rolled over. The moment she saw him, she jerked to a sitting position, then hastily rose. Her hands busily tidied her hair and smoothed her shirt and pants. She slipped her feet into black flats. “Sorry, Dave. When I brought in the last of the presents, I was tired and thought I’d sit down for a minute.” She glanced at her watch. “Oops. That was more like an hour than a minute.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll go help the others tidy up.” She headed for the door.
He touched her upper arm to stop her. Then, because it felt too good, he let go. “They’ll be finished and gone. Cassidy, you’ve put in a long day and you did a great job. Go on home.”
“Right.” She gazed at him and there was something soft, almost wistful, in her blue-gray eyes. “I’m going.” She turned away.
Leaving him shaken. Damn it, this was the thing about Cassidy. One look like that, and he wanted to smooth the hair off her face, brush his fingers across her cheek, touch his lips to hers. That urge was so much harder to resist than a case of simple physical lust.