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by Debbie Macomber


  Chapter 16

  When Steve came to collect Cassie at six on Saturday morning, Amiee was already up and dressed for her track meet. Cassie felt guilty about leaving her daughter on the day of her big meet. Amiee was fine, but Cassie had lingering doubts.

  “Call me as soon as you finish,” she insisted.

  Amiee rolled her eyes. “Mom, just go already, it’s no big deal.”

  “It’s a big deal to me,” Cassie told her.

  Amiee brushed off her mother’s concerns. “I’m not even that good. The only reason I turned out for track is because Claudia did.”

  Steve glanced at his wrist and Cassie realized he was anxious to get on the road. With a five-hour drive across the state, making the trip there and back in a single day was bound to be exhausting. Even now she was overwhelmed by the generosity of his offer.

  Cassie started out the door and then turned back. “I don’t know what time I’ll be home.”

  “Mom!” Amiee protested again, tossing up her arms in frustration. “Would you just go?”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Once outside, Cassie was struck by how huge Steve’s truck was. She knew he owned his own electrical contracting business, but she hadn’t realized how large his company was. If he had both a truck and a warehouse at his disposal, then he was far and away more successful that she’d imagined. Steve opened the passenger door and helped her inside the cab.

  Neither spoke on the way out of Seattle. When they hit I-90, Steve glanced over at Cassie. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  She wondered what had prompted this, and carefully considered her response. “You can ask, but I reserve the right to refuse to answer.”

  “Fair enough.” He waited while he changed lanes, moving over to the far right-hand side of the interstate as cars whizzed past. “When you cut your arm and removed your jacket I saw several scars. Can you tell me how you got them?” He didn’t look her way, and Cassie was grateful.

  She weighed her answer and decided to tell him what she told others. “Those scars were my stupid tax.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “That’s what I tell the women I mentor at the shelter.”

  “Your ex gave you those scars?” He sounded incredulous.

  “If I’d stayed with Duke I would be dead now.” She was convinced of that beyond a shadow of a doubt. “There were times when I wished he had murdered me.” She paused when she read the shock in his expression.

  “You can’t possibly mean that.”

  She was serious. “After a person has been beaten down time and time again they lose the will to live, to fight back. As outrageous as it seems now, there were times when I felt I deserved to be beaten.”

  “What?” He didn’t bother to hide his shock.

  “If only I’d paid more attention … if only I’d asked first … if only I was a better cook.”

  Steve clamped his mouth shut and she could see that her words had upset him. “No woman deserves to be beaten, Cassie.”

  It’d taken Cassie far too long to come to that same conclusion. “I agree, which is why I call it my stupid tax.” She regretted that she hadn’t been able to volunteer much time to the shelter these days—every spare moment she had went toward working off her hours. Once her home was built, she’d go back. She missed it, missed meeting the women there, missed showing them proof positive that they, too, could make it on their own.

  “I hope your ex is in prison,” Steve said between clenched teeth.

  “I wouldn’t know, and furthermore, I don’t care, as long as he stays out of Amiee’s and my life.”

  An hour outside of Seattle they exited the freeway at the top of Snoqualmie Pass for a restroom stop and a cup of coffee. “Alicia and I made this trip often,” Steve casually mentioned, as they headed back on the road.

  He rarely mentioned his wife, and she suspected the reason was the pain it caused him.

  “She loved visiting the Yakima Valley and doing wine tours in the summer months.”

  “And you?”

  “I loved Alicia. That last summer, we both knew she didn’t have long to live—five, six months at the most—and so we squeezed in as much time together as I could manage. My business suffered, but I can’t regret a single minute I spent with her that last year.”

  “I wish I’d known her,” Cassie told him. “I have the feeling we would have been friends.”

  “I wish you’d known her, too,” Steve whispered. “It’s been three years now, and it seems like only yesterday that she was with me.”

  No one needed to tell Cassie that when Steve loved it was with his whole heart. Any woman he loved would feel cherished.

  “My one regret,” he said, speaking into the void, “was the fact that we never were able to have children. People tell me how difficult it would be for me as a single father. I wouldn’t care.”

  Cassie couldn’t imagine her life without Amiee. “Alicia must have had a big heart. She’s the one who got you involved in Habitat, isn’t she?”

  Steve nodded. “She spent countless volunteer hours at the office and the store. She was passionate about giving families a hand up. People loved her. You can’t imagine how huge her funeral was.”

  They passed a sign saying they were nearing Spokane. They’d talked for so long that Cassie didn’t realize how close they were—the miles had sped by with barely a notice. All at once Cassie’s heart started racing at a frantic pace. Her palms grew sweaty and she found it difficult to breathe. For a moment she thought she was going to be sick.

  “Steve,” she whispered, her voice in a panic. “I need you to find a spot to pull over.”

  He glanced away from the road. “What’s wrong?”

  She felt all the blood drain from her face. “I don’t know … please, just pull over.”

  “Okay, hold on.” He pulled off the interstate and found a spot off the road and put the truck in park.

  Cassie opened the passenger door and leaped down. Her head started to spin and she reached out and placed her hand on the side of the truck in order to keep her balance.

  Right away, Steve was at her side. “Cassie, what’s wrong?”

  She was familiar with this feeling. It’d come over her far too often while married to Duke. “I’m afraid,” she whispered.

  Steve frowned. “Afraid of what?”

  “You won’t understand.” Leaning against the truck now, she covered her face and took in deep gulping breaths in an effort to gain her equilibrium.

  “Explain it to me.” His voice was gentle, encouraging.

  Cassie hardly knew where to begin. “I’m seeing my sister for the first time in more years than I can remember. I was eighteen and in love for the first time in my life. My father in particular didn’t want me seeing Duke. So Duke convinced me our only option was to run away and get married. Karen found out that I’d withdrawn my graduation money out of the bank—I think she might have guessed what I intended to do. We had a huge fight. She said I was stupid if I couldn’t see the kind of man Duke was, and I said she was jealous because she was so ugly and such a loser no one had ever fallen in love with her. We hurled some hateful accusations at each other … We haven’t seen each other since that night … I said things I regret and, well, I … I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me.”

  “That was a lot of years ago, Cassie,” Steve said, in the same gentle tones he’d used earlier. “I’m sure she must regret what happened, too.”

  Cassie had hoped that would be the case, but there’d been precious little contact from either of her sisters, and what there had been was stilted and awkward. When Cassie reached out to her sisters she’d gotten a less-than-welcoming response. Neither Karen nor Nichole seemed interested in connecting with her.

  “Surely you’ve seen your family since you’ve been back?”

  Cassie dropped her hands, straightened, and shook her head. “No. Not since the night I ran away with Duke. One of the first things he did
was move me as far away from my family as he could take me. I wasn’t allowed to have contact with them … The last time I was in Spokane, I was a teenager.”

  “But I thought you said your mother recently died.”

  “She did.”

  “You weren’t at the funeral?”

  Clenching her stomach, Cassie held back a sob. “No … I had no way of getting to Spokane; I was thousands of miles away. Mom and I talked and we made peace … but that isn’t the case with my two sisters.”

  “Your younger sister lives in Spokane, too?”

  “No, Nichole and her husband are in Portland.” Both her sisters had done everything right. Cassie was the black sheep, the outcast, and she didn’t know if that would ever change. She longed for a deeper relationship with her sisters, but to this point she’d seen no evidence either Karen or Nichole were interested.

  “Don’t your sisters realize everything you’ve been through?”

  “No.” That Steve would ask the question showed he had little concept of the complicated relationship Cassie had with her siblings. She didn’t want to explain further. As it was, she’d said more than she intended.

  “But—”

  Cassie could see he wasn’t going to let this drop. “They don’t know,” she said, her voice shaking. “They don’t realize … They seem to think it was my choice to stay away. They’re angry for what I put my parents through. My father died far younger than he should have … Mom, too, and they believe my running off with Duke contributed to all that. The truth is, it probably did.” All at once it came to her what she needed to do. She had the answer to all this.

  Her head came up and she cried, “Steve, leave me here.”

  “Leave you on the side of the road?” He shook his head as he spoke. “I’m not doing that. What are you thinking? There’s nothing around here for miles.”

  “Not here here, but somewhere close. We could find a diner or something, and I’ll stay there and wait for you.”

  “Wait for me while I do what?” He frowned, clearly perplexed.

  “While you meet my sister.”

  His automatic response was to shake his head. “No way. Sorry, but I’m not doing that.”

  Her heart continued to pound so hard her ribs ached. “You don’t understand. Please. I don’t know that I can do this.”

  “You can and you will,” he insisted. “Where’s the gutsy girl I met that first day in the Habitat office? The one who challenged me every time I turned around?”

  “That same woman is shaking in her shoes.”

  “Cassie,” he said, and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You’re stronger than you think.”

  “Says who?” She certainly didn’t feel any of that resolve or courage now.

  “I do,” Steve challenged. “You’re one of the strongest women I know. You escaped a brutal marriage. You took your husband to court and stood up to him. If that wasn’t enough, then you started over with nothing in order to make a new life for yourself and your daughter. In my book that takes courage; that takes a strong woman.”

  Cassie straightened. She had done all that and more.

  “And you did it on your own, Cassie. You didn’t have anyone to lean on, did you?”

  She shook her head.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “You’re a good mother to Amiee.”

  Cassie was almost able to smile. “The kid’s got a mouth on her.”

  “Really?” Steve said, feigning surprise. “I can’t imagine where she got that.”

  She did smile then, although the amusement quivered at the edges of her mouth.

  “You can do this, Cassie. I know you. After everything you’ve endured, this is a piece of cake; it’s nothing.”

  “You haven’t met my sister,” she said, slowly expelling her breath.

  “Is she anything like you?”

  Cassie thought back to the days she’d shared a bedroom with Karen. “We’re nothing alike … Karen was the organized one and I was the slob. Because Karen couldn’t stand my messes, she took masking tape and divided the room in half and I wasn’t allowed to cross the line.”

  Steve grinned.

  “She resented the fact that I got top grades and I barely needed to study. School always came easy to me. If I’d gone to college … I had a full-ride scholarship. My parents were so proud.”

  “You gave it up when you married Duke?”

  Cassie nodded, not wanting to explain that she’d been pregnant and blinded by love. The scholarship was only a small sacrifice compared to everything else she’d lost because she’d been young and foolish. She’d lost her self-respect. She’d lost all contact with her family. She’d lost all self-esteem and pride. Loving Duke had come at a high price, one she’d repeatedly paid through the years. Her stupid tax for sure.

  “Did Duke …” Steve hesitated, almost as if he could barely speak the words. “Did he ever hit Amiee?”

  “No. He knew …”

  Steve frowned waiting for her to continue.

  “He was well aware I would do whatever it took to protect my daughter, and if that meant doing him bodily injury I wouldn’t hesitate. I swore to him if he ever laid a hand on her, he would pay and the cost wouldn’t be cheap.” He’d slugged Cassie for her impertinence, but somehow her threat had gotten through to him. One misplaced slap, one blowup aimed at their daughter, and he’d need to sleep with one eye open for the rest of his life.

  Cassie had meant it, too. The beatings had gotten much worse after she’d made that stand. People asked why she’d stayed in the marriage, why she’d put up with the abuse. Those who wanted to know weren’t familiar with the human psyche. One reason was that Cassie felt she didn’t have any choice—Duke had convinced her that she’d never make it on her own. The crazy part was she’d believed him. She might have failed if not for the support and encouragement of the women at the shelter. Because of them she felt an obligation to give back in kind for all the help given to her.

  “Feel better?” Steve asked.

  Cassie nodded.

  “You ready to get back on the road?”

  “In a minute.” She drew in several deep breaths and tried to quell her pounding heart.

  “Let’s walk for a bit,” Steve suggested.

  “Okay.” They followed a dirt road for several feet, walking side by side in silence. “I … I don’t know what I’ll say to Karen.”

  Steve leaned down and grabbed hold of a long stem of grass, which he placed in the corner of his mouth. “My guess,” he said, “is that your sister is wondering the same thing. She’s probably just as nervous.”

  Not Karen—her sister was always so put together. What Cassie had in brains and talent, her two sisters made up for in beauty. Karen had been nominated for the homecoming court her senior year of high school. And while Nichole was barely in her teens when Cassie left, it was apparent she would grow out of that awkward stage and be just as lovely as Karen.

  “I can’t see Karen as nervous.”

  “I’ll bet she is,” Steve continued, chewing on the long stem of grass.

  Cassie remembered how awkward the first conversations with Karen had been shortly after their father died. Her older sister had sounded as uncertain as Cassie felt. Just recently, since they’d started communicating again, it’d gotten a little better; they’d both lowered their guard bit by bit, and yet it continued to be firmly held in place.

  After several minutes, Cassie slowly turned around and started back toward the truck. Steve followed. He didn’t ask her any further questions, didn’t coax or cajole her.

  “Ready?” he asked, when they reached the truck.

  Cassie inhaled a deep breath and nodded.

  He opened the passenger door and Cassie climbed in. Steve was right. She could do this. She would do this.

  Chapter 17

  Nichole Patterson set out her husband’s favorite lunch on a floral place mat. She poured him a tall glass of iced tea and then waited for J
ake to return from his golf match with his buddy Dave. He’d been spending a lot of time with Dave lately—not that Nichole minded. Ever since the birth of their son, Jake had been especially loving. She simply adored her Michael Kors purse, although she felt a twinge of guilt now and again when she saw it. If Jake hadn’t insisted, she would never have purchased anything so extravagant for herself. Jake enjoyed spoiling her.

  The door off the garage opened and Jake walked in. “Hi, honey,” he said and brushed his lips across her cheek. Owen sat on the floor, playing with his toys, which he had spread out across the hardwood. Jake reached for his son and lifted him high in the air and kissed his chubby cheek.

  Owen squealed, dropped his toy, and flung out his arms before Jake handed him to Nichole.

  “You made me lunch,” he said.

  “Yes, a sandwich, and I’ve got the soup on the stove. How was your golf game?”

  Jake pulled out the chair and sat down. “Great. I ended the round only two over par.”

  Nichole hoped that their son inherited his father’s athletic abilities. Owen showed a lot of promise—he’d started walking at nine months and was into everything. She had to be on constant guard when it came to their son, which meant she had little free time—not that she minded. This was what it meant to be a mother and she enjoyed her role.

  “Is tomato soup okay?” she asked, setting Owen in his high chair. She handed him a handful of Cheerios, his favorite cereal, to keep him occupied while she went to the stove to dish up Jake’s lunch.

  “Perfect.” Jake reached for the floral napkin that matched the place mat and spread it on his lap.

  “Karen called this morning to tell me she’d heard from Cassie.” She delivered his soup to the table. Pulling out a chair, she sat across the table from her husband.

  Jake pushed his sandwich aside in order to make room for his soup. “The prodigal sister you hardly remember?”

  “Oh, I remember Cassie, all right. It’s sort of crazy, you know. It was like she died after she ran off with Duke. She put my parents through hell: Mom worried herself sick and Dad was never the same. He used to sit and stare at the piano. Once I saw him in his chair, looking at the piano with tears glistening in his eyes. She made some bad decisions and then looked to us for help. Remember when she called, needing money?”

 

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