by JoAnn Durgin
“Cassie!”
Mitch.
Her heart jumped when she saw him running toward her with a police officer two paces behind him. Surprising the man, she pushed against his arms and broke free of his hold. Her attacker screamed that vile name again and, after giving her a threatening glare, he took off in the opposite direction.
Both men ran after him and Mitch reached him first. Tackling him to the ground, he delivered one swift, hard blow to his nose. Raising his fist, shaking it in the air, Mitch rolled off the guy and then jumped to his feet. Taking over, the officer straddled the man and pulled out handcuffs while reciting the Miranda rights.
After talking with the officer, Mitch ran back over to her. Out of breath, he planted both hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” Cassie nodded, and her lower lip trembled. She would not—could not—allow the tears to fall.
Releasing her, Mitch stepped closer, his eyes searching hers. His jaw was set in a hard, firm line. “He didn’t do anything to you, did he? Hurt you physically in any way?”
“No, but it was definitely on his mind.” She shuddered. “Mitch, he had a knife.”
“You’re shaking.”
“Am I?” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
“Come here.” His voice sounded gruff, edged with compassion.
She didn’t hesitate as he gathered her close, wrapping his strong arms around her. “Maybe I’m in shock. I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before.” She wiped her hand across her eyes. “Thank the Lord.”
“I knew I should have walked you back to the car. Forgive my stupidity. These kinds of fairs aren’t exactly known for having the most reputable, upstanding citizens around.”
“At least I was able to fight him off at first. I was the one being stupid and not paying attention. He came up behind me when I was at the car. I managed to get away, but he caught up with me when I started running back this way.” To her chagrin, a few tears rolled down her cheeks. She sniffled and tried to keep them at bay.
“Aw, Cassie. It’s okay to cry. You’re safe now, and you handled it great. I saw the guy’s hand, and you got him pretty good. Smart thinking.” Holding her close, he stroked her hair as she rested her head on his solid chest. Being held by Mitch was wonderful, but it stirred feelings inside her. Feelings she wasn’t sure she could trust. For now, it was what she needed.
“How’s your hand?” she asked, her voice muffled by the soft fabric of his T-shirt.
“I haven’t hit anyone like that since Landon, but I’ll survive. Think I broke his nose.”
Surprised by that revelation, she raised her head. “You hit Landon?”
“Decked him good in a coffee shop, as a matter of fact. It was after I found out what happened on that road trip through Louisiana and Texas with Amy. Long story, but after I slugged him, we sat and exchanged a civilized dialogue. He explained everything and it was obvious he was in love with her. He’s an upstanding guy, and it wasn’t like he purposely set out to deceive or hurt her.”
“Landon’s your sister’s hero. And now, chinks in your armor or not—you’re mine. Thank you.”
“Welcome, but I only finished the job. You held him at bay on your own, impressively so. I heard a scream coming from this direction. The police officer was jawing around with one of the workers by the ticket booths, but he came right away when I called to him.”
Easing out of his arms, Cassie brushed her fingers beneath her eyes and released a shuddering breath. “Sam and Josh insisted we take a self-defense class last year. I never honestly thought I’d need to put those lessons into practice. It goes to show you never know, do you?”
“I’ll be sure and thank them later,” Mitch said.
The officer called to them, one hand anchored on her attacker’s shoulder. Cassie was relieved the man wasn’t looking her way. He seemed more preoccupied with the blood coming from his nose. “We need to file a report if you two could come to the security office. It’s to the left of the main entrance.”
“We’ll be right there,” Mitch said.
When he looked at her, Cassie glimpsed tenderness in Mitch’s eyes. Not like with Tagg or her father. Not like with Sam. Those men had hugged her, held her and comforted her, but this was different. She liked the strong, steady sound of his heartbeat. The way he’d held her. She couldn’t deny she admired the firmness of his chest, the strength in his arms. Liked how he’d come running when he’d heard her scream.
Starting to relax, Cassie gave him a small smile. “Life is never dull with you around, that’s for sure.”
“I’d settle for a little less excitement, believe me. Do you want to head back to the house after we file the report?”
“Why? Do you?”
“You want to stay after what happened?”
“Sure. We’re hardy types, you and me. Why let a little drama slow us down?”
He looked uncertain. “I agree, but it’s your call. Whatever you want.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, shaking off the last of her apprehensions. “Let’s go file that report and pray the guy’s already been hauled off to jail. I hate the thought of him sitting there glaring at me. Or cussing me out again. That was bad enough.”
“I’ll check and make sure he’s not in the office before you go in. You shouldn’t be subjected to that, especially since the officer was right there to positively ID him.”
“Oh, wait a minute,” Cassie said as they started to walk back toward the fairgrounds. “My car door’s still wide open.”
Mitch turned in the opposite direction, pulling her around with him. “Let’s go back together. We’d better hurry or that officer’s going to think we skipped out on him.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m definitely keeping you close the rest of the day.”
Fine by me.
Chapter 13
Mitch sat beside Cassie as they devoured pork loin sandwiches, the only occupants of a picnic table in a partially shaded area, shielded from the sun by a striped awning. After riding a few rides, they were both flushed with the heat. He’d been more thirsty than hungry, but as Mitch took another bite, he found he was ravenous.
They’d spent the better part of the first half-hour at the fair filing the police report in a cramped, makeshift security office set up in a trailer. The police officer hadn’t been particularly agreeable, chomping on a wad of tobacco and revealing a remarkable lack of sympathy as he’d filled out the report by hand. The thought that Cassie could have been raped or worse made Mitch shudder. By God’s grace, she’d escaped unharmed and her attacker had been hauled away to jail a few minutes before they arrived at the trailer. Another of God’s mercies. She would have hated to face that scumbag with only a few feet separating them. In some ways, that experience would have been every bit as traumatic.
As much as Mitch disliked violence, the guy had deserved his wrath. He’d wanted to do a lot more than slug him in the nose. Men who hurt women or children were the lowest type of pond scum and deserved no leniency. Except God’s grace. Yeah, he knew it, but it’d probably take him a while longer to see it God’s way.
Cassie had been terrific as she’d answered the officer’s questions. She was articulate, precise and relayed the events without caving into emotion. This woman’s spirit and apparent inner strength amazed him. When Mitch offered his hand to her for comfort, he’d been pleased when she’d accepted without hesitation. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t help but compare her—positively—to some of the women he’d dated. Not by a long stretch of the imagination would any one of them ever suggest going to a county fair, and especially not on Valentine’s Day.
“Why is it, even in the blazing heat, this sandwich tastes soooo good? You’re a bad influence on me. I didn’t think I’d be hungry again so soon after that picnic lunch earlier today.” Cassie took another bite. Thankfully, her appetite didn’t seem diminished by what happened. He’d noticed at dinner the night before that she seemed to e
at whatever she wanted, another marked difference between her and most other women. While they were always on some strange fad diet, Cassie seemed the type not to worry about such silliness.
“I love your spirit,” he said between bites. “You’re so real and unaffected. Effervescent.” Those weren’t the only words to describe Cassie. Ever since he’d seen her earlier that morning, he’d been drawn to her. She should be off-limits, but he couldn’t shrug off his physical attraction to her. She wore mid-thigh denim shorts and a sleeveless, white cotton top with athletic shoes. While modest, she stimulated every ounce of male testosterone in him. Mitch wished he could turn it off, and he’d said a few quick prayers under his breath. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and it highlighted her long neck, the graceful slope of her jawline and her slender shoulders. Cassie was a completely feminine, gorgeous girl who had no clue of the pure power she could hold over a man. That in itself was incredibly appealing. Doris Bickle-whatever was right. Even though he hated cotton candy, Cassie was irresistible.
I don’t deserve her sweetness, her innocence. After Brad’s death, during his time of rebellion from anything to do with God, he’d made foolish choices and succumbed to worldly desires. He’d done things he wasn’t proud of, things that would shame his parents and the way they’d raised him. Things he’d regret until the day he died, but the temptation had been great and he’d been at the lowest point in his life.
He had no excuses, but if nothing else, he’d learned from his mistakes. Enough to know how he wanted to live his life. Enough to know the kind of girl he hoped he’d eventually find. Like the one sitting with him now. It wouldn’t be fair to Cassie to start something between them. He’d been lousy at relationships with women who lived in close proximity, so how could he believe he could start—much less maintain—any kind of relationship with a woman halfway across the country? Problem was, the more time he spent with Cassie, the more he wanted to know her better.
Lord, if this is wrong, I trust You to clue me in somehow.
“What’s next?” After finishing her sandwich, Cassie downed the last of her diet soda. Grabbing the plastic sandwich wrap and the empty chip bag, she climbed off the bench and tossed them in a nearby trash can.
He drained his iced tea and followed suit. “Great right hook you’ve got there. Ever play pickup basketball with a guy?”
“With Tagg when I was little. I had better hand-eye coordination and I never let him forget it.”
Mitch smiled. “I’m sure you didn’t. How about going on the Ferris wheel next? You okay with heights?”
“Not a problem for me. How about you?”
“I might need you to hold my hand.”
“Afraid of heights are you?”
“I’m not afraid to fall, if that’s what you mean.”
What an ill-advised statement. Great, Jacobsen. Watch it. He admired how Cassie didn’t flinch and held his gaze steady. One minute he was thinking how he didn’t deserve her and the next he wanted to kiss her. Oh yeah, he definitely wanted to kiss her. See if her lips were as soft as they looked. Maybe this trip to the fair wasn’t the best idea. And it felt like a date because he wanted it to be a date. He hadn’t had such a great time with a girl in a long time. As much as he hated what happened to her in the parking lot, she didn’t seem inordinately traumatized and he’d selfishly liked that he’d been able to defend her honor. Liked holding her, protecting her.
“Somehow I don’t think you’re talking about heights.”
He’d leave that comment alone. Equally uncanny was how she seemed to read him. Amy was right about Cassie’s intuitiveness. They strolled down the midway, making random observations. “Looks like they’ll be loading again soon,” he said as they approached the towering Ferris wheel, taking their place in line behind a teenage couple. Unashamed and oblivious to everyone around them, they couldn’t keep their hands off one another. Rubbing his hand over his jaw, Mitch slanted a glance at Cassie to gauge her reaction. She appeared amused but also embarrassed.
“I can’t believe they carry on like that for the world to see,” she whispered, turning toward him and releasing a small groan. “Wow. I can’t believe how old I sound. Give me a hair net, support hose and sensible shoes already.”
Mitch leaned close to her ear. “Maybe I should plant a big wet smacker on you for the whole world to see. Then maybe you won’t feel so old.”
She giggled, most likely from his breath tickling her ear. He liked her giggle, and it sounded anything but childlike.
“Too late. It’s time to get on the ride now. Don’t dawdle, old man.” Cassie tossed him a teasing look over one shoulder. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was flirting. Yes, she was definitely flirting.
A few seconds later, he plopped down in the seat beside her, rocking it. Mitch focused on keeping a respectable distance between them instead of dwelling on that fantastic come here to me perfume she was wearing. He’d noticed it when he’d held her close. Maybe it was her shampoo. Floral but light and undeniably feminine.
“When I was a kid, I used to go to the fair and ride all day long until my older brother finally hauled me home.”
“Tell me about him. Does he live in Alabama?” The ride started and the breeze, warm though it was, cooled him down a bit.
She averted her gaze. With both hands on the bar in front of them, she leaned forward and peered over the edge to the ground below. “He died when he was seventeen. I was twelve. Boating accident.”
The sadness that washed over her lovely features made him want to snatch back the question. Amy could have warned him Cassie had a brother who’d died. Was it possible she didn’t know? He thought the TeamWork crew knew everything about each other.
“I’m sorry, Cassie. I had no idea. What was his name?”
“Taggart, but no one called him that. From the time he was a toddler, he was known as Tagg. I don’t tell many people about him,” she said. “Probably because it still hurts, even after all these years. The hardest part for me to accept is that I won’t see him again on this earth. I won’t get to meet the woman he’d marry. I won’t have the opportunity to read stories with his babies. Won’t be able to go to him when I have a problem with a guy and need his advice.”
Family dynamics could be weird. How well he knew, but Cassie didn’t seem to suffer from the living in the shadow of her older brother syndrome. Unlike Celeste who’d once told him how hard it was to live up to the expectations he’d set by being so good at everything in school. If nothing else, his failure in the medical field squelched that notion.
“Losing my brother in such a senseless tragedy was horrible, but it made it easier knowing that he’d trusted Christ when he was ten.” A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “He had a cleft in his chin that he hated, but my grandma told him it was a symbol of distinction. Girls loved him and guys wanted to be his friend. He was popular, athletic and a good student, but he had a mischievous streak. I followed him everywhere, so my nickname became Tagg-a-long. I know Mama begged him to take me places, but I never heard Tagg complain. Not once.”
Talking about Tagg didn’t seem to make Cassie sad, but he needed to lighten the mood. No more heavy talk for the afternoon. “I hope you haven’t had many of those guy problems you mentioned.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
Mitch stretched his arm along the seat behind her. He touched the ends of her hair, playing with it. “You like a man with a streak of mischief, do you?”
She shot him a grin. “It’s never boring. You remind me of Tagg in some ways.”
“Just so you know, I’m nowhere near perfect. And guys don’t like being told they remind a girl of her brother.” Especially one who’d died and she’d obviously adored.
“You remind me of him in all the best ways, silly. Besides, perfect people are boring.”
“Do you have any other brothers or sisters?” he asked.
“No. It was only the two of us. My mom wanted mor
e kids, but after me, she couldn’t have any more.” She cleared her throat. “Sorry. It’s not as Peyton Place as it might sound. My mom might have been drunk sometimes, and my daddy in jail, but they provided the necessities. We knew in their own way they loved us. Grandma Thor was always there for us. She lived three doors down, and she was waiting for us in the driveway every Sunday morning—rain or shine—to take us to church. Mama usually managed to go, too, although it seemed like such a contradiction. I was saved in that church when I was eight.”
“I’m glad you had your grandmother to watch over you, Cassie.” After hearing all that, Mitch wasn’t about to ask any more questions or he’d risk spoiling the rest of the day. Not that he didn’t want to know more about her, but they were at a fair. Time for fun. He’d steer clear of family-related questions. That should do the trick.
“You and Amy have a younger sister, right?”
“Right. That would be Celeste. The quick rundown is that she’s engaged and works in a marketing firm in Philly. I’ve always been closer to Amy, both in age—we’re eighteen months apart—and in every other way. Celeste always seemed to go more for the whole debutante thing.”
“I thought your dad was a pastor. Was it a huge church?”
He shifted and straightened in the seat, regretting his mention of the word debutante. Most pastors’ daughters weren’t introduced into high society—especially in Philadelphia, land of such well-known debutantes such as the actress-turned-Queen of Monaco, Grace Kelly. Might as well tell Cassie the truth. No reason to hide it, and subconsciously or not, he’d broached the subject.
“Dad was a pastor, but my grandfather on my mom’s side was a well-known actor,” he said. “Suffice it to say he provided well for our family after his death.”
“Really? Well, that’s quite exciting.” Cassie shifted to face him on the seat, knees touching. “Not that he died, of course.” Her cheeks flushed. “What was his name?”
“He made a few popular films in Hollywood but missed the live stage. After twenty years in California, he returned to New York and spent the rest of his career performing on Broadway. He died a long time ago, so I doubt you’ve ever heard of him.”