The Last Bloom

by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio

  He followed her in silence but stopped at the heavy oak portal. “I’ll be in Eagle’s Landing for a while. Long enough to see my father resting comfortably at home.”

  “I’m sure that will please him greatly.” She opened the door.

  He placed a hand on her arm. “I’d like to call on you, Cassia.”

  She pulled her arm from his grip. “My days are so busy, I really don’t know when…”

  “If nothing else, are we not still friends?”

  She sighed. She didn’t hate Tucker, just disliked how he ran out on his promise. Then again, they were just children, too young to have made such promises. “Yes, we are still friends.”

  He smiled. “Then you will agree to see me?”

  “Yes, I agree,” she said, resigned. “Now, go home.”

  He chuckled and gave her a peck on the cheek before she shut the door behind him.

  With mixed emotions, she remained for a few moments standing in the foyer and gazing at the door, as she rubbed the spot where he’d kissed her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Brodie’s heart fell to his toes when he turned to see his brother standing in the door of his father’s hospital room. And the uneasy feeling increased as the day wore on. People were drawn to Tucker’s personality, and because of this, he was used to being the center of attention. He was funny, quick witted, and interesting. No doubt the reason Cassia always enjoyed his company. Even at the hospital, while visiting their father, the room came alive when he stepped inside. He had a few nurses laughing, as well as his father. In no time all ears were listening to Tucker’s adventure of how he finally made it into town.

  The fact Brodie arrived immediately when his mother summoned him, and Tucker was weeks late, seemed not to matter. And thinking back it was always the case. Tucker could get out of every selfish, self-centered thing he did. He wasn’t held up to responsibility, wasn’t expected to tow the mark. As the youngest he was doted on, given several chances to redeem himself, which he rarely did.

  Driving separate wagons back to Eagle’s Landing gave Brodie time alone to evaluate the situation—that being Cassia’s first inclination was to favor Tucker. He was the older one, and the person Tucker and Cassia always looked up to. He got them out of trouble and scolded them when they misbehaved. Because of his elder stance and wisdom, he was excluded from their friendship in many ways. Their little schemes, their childhood jokes, secrets, and other things they enjoyed together built a relationship between them, a strong bond. Now, did he even stand a chance with Cassia? Could he successfully come between all she and his brother previously built throughout the years?

  He made his way to the kitchen for a drink of water. From the small window above the sink, he spotted Tucker walking up the backdoor’s path. With both hands thrust deep into his jacket pockets, Tucker sauntered closer to the house, shoulders squared and looking very pleased. Brodie’s heart sank. Tucker had gone to the Holmes’s residence to return the horse and wagon he borrowed. Obviously, he would have had a chance to speak with Cassia. In what way did their encounter contribute to Tucker’s good mood?

  “Christ, you’re grinning like the cat that got the cream, little brother,” he whispered. Brodie’s flesh heated, jealousy spreading like wildfire through his entire being. Taking a deep breath, he filled a glass with water and drank, allowing the liquid to quench his thirst and cool the smoldering heat within. Just as Tucker opened the back door, Brodie briefly closed his eyes and took another deep breath. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with his brother. Both were here to help with his father. Being at odds with one another wasn’t the way to accomplish that.

  Finishing his drink, he cleared his throat and placed the used glass in the sink, then forced a civil tone. “Are you hungry?”

  “Ravenous.” Tucker moved to the ice box. “What’s good to eat?”

  “Mother’s left a few dishes,” he responded. “I’ve put quite a dent into the beef stew which is in the large brown pot. But I’d say there’s enough for a couple more bowls.”

  “Swell, then, I’ll warm it up for the two of us.” Tucker brought the pot to the stove.

  Brodie set the table and sliced a loaf of homemade bread a neighbor lady brought over the night before.

  The two worked in silence until seated, and Tucker spoke between mouthfuls of stew. “I see Cassia eventually forgiving me.”

  He frowned. “Her father’s a reverend; she was taught to forgive.”

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Tucker muttered.

  “Oh, then you’re referring to the way you shattered the hopes she had for the two of you?”

  Tucker nodded. “We agreed they were childhood hopes, nothing that should hold anyone accountable forever.”

  He sighed heavily. “How gracious of Cassia to let you off the hook.”

  Tucker sat back in his seat. “Aw, come on, Brodie. Don’t tell me you would have honored such a commitment uttered at such a young age?”

  He locked eyes with his brother. “I would have—yes. And you know why, Tucker? Because I am a man of my word. Something you are not,” he added beneath his breath.

  Tucker chuckled lightly. “Then you are a chump. No one pays any mind to a kid’s musings.”

  He arched a brow. “Cassia did.”

  Tucker leaned forward. “And now, she, too, has realized how stupid the whole thing is…was.”

  “Are you so sure about that?”

  Tucker smirked. “Well, she agreed to see me as a friend.” He shrugged. “Who knows what can develop again from there.”

  He swallowed hard the anger rising to choke him. “And what then, Tucker? What happens then, after you and Cassia have rekindled the flame?”

  “Well, hopefully, we’ll be together again,” Tucker spat.

  “Together where?” He didn’t wait for his brother to answer. “Are you planning to stay in Eagle’s Landing, make a life with Cassia here?”

  “Well, no… I don’t know.” Tucker shrugged again. “What’s the big difference where we live, anyway, as long as we’re together?”

  “The difference is that Cassia has very much made a place for herself in this town, doing what she went to school to learn. What she has always wanted to do with her life.”

  “She can minister to the sick and deliver babies anywhere, Brodie,” Tucker snapped.

  “What about her family and friends she holds near and dear?”

  Tucker frowned. “She didn’t have a problem leaving them to study in England.”

  “But Cassia’s father is in his eighties. She might be reluctant to leave him again.”

  “Other women have followed their men, like Mom did Dad. For cryin’ out loud, Brodie, Mom left her country, all her family and friends, to come to America with Dad.”

  “Times were different then, Tucker,” he said. “Mom didn’t have a career outside of the home. Cassia does.”

  “No one’s asking her to give up her career,” Tucker said. “Just to do her nursing someplace other than Eagle’s Landing.” Glaring across the table, Tucker pushed away his bowl of stew and set his spoon aside. “What’s it matter to you anyway?”

  He looked down at his bowl of half-eaten stew. By now he’d completely lost his appetite. How could he tell his brother he saw Cassia in a different light—as a woman he was attracted to, instead of the little girl he once looked out for? How could he explain the feelings of desire and the emotions that overtook him while he was in her presence? He hadn’t even told Cassia how he felt.

  Slowly he raised his eyes. “It matters to me because I don’t want to see Cassia hurt again by you or anyone else.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Brodie, Cassia’s a big girl now.”

  Oh, little brother, I’ve definitely noticed.

  “And she doesn’t need you to look after her anymore,” Tucker concluded.

  Brodie stood and picked up his bowl, spoon, and water glass. “I will always have Cassia’s best interest in
mind, no matter how old any of us get. I won’t stand for her to be abused by another’s control or saddened by anyone’s selfishness. And you’d do best to keep that in mind.” He took his dishware to the sink, rinsed them in silence, and left the room.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next few days following Brodie’s talk with his brother were awkward. By day he went with Cassia on house calls and worked side by side with her at the free clinic. They even took a few office visits together, as she was good with children and put the women patients at ease just by being in the room. By night Tucker took her to dinner, for a walk one night by the creek where they all once played, or had dinner at the Holmes’s residence. Brodie was always invited, but declined, which made working with Cassia the next day even harder. The distance growing between them worried him, wore on his heart, and kept him awake at night in his bed. He realized he had to do something soon to bring her back and closer to him. But with Tucker in the picture, he feared the confession of his feelings for her would look like sibling rivalry.

  The silence that hung between him and Tucker grew thicker, as his silent resentment and jealousy continued to get the best of him. He was grateful when the day for his father to return home arrived. To have others in the house to converse with, keep his attention elsewhere, was a welcomed thought. He hoped Tucker would, once he saw his father home again and doing well, leave Eagle’s Landing.

  He and Tucker shared a wagon to Willow Creek, bringing it to a halt in front of the hospital. In silence they walked together to their father’s room, where they found their mother in charge. She was rummaging around the place, packing his father’s belongings, making certain not to forget a thing. A familiar expression was upon her face—the one she wore when she was fully into organizing and completing a task properly. He remembered it from the days she planned holiday meals, ladies’ luncheons, or church socials. Nothing got past her. She was thorough, efficient, and fiercely protective of her duties. His father’s recovery would be her first and foremost project, and she’d be very protective of him as well while she accomplished her mission.

  Brodie had a pang of envy for what his parents felt for each other. His father cared for and protected his mother, and vice versa. They looked out for one another, finished each other’s sentences, and understood the silent requests. And they really enjoyed each other’s company. Not only were they in love, but they liked each other, were best friends. This was what he yearned for in his life with Cassia. In many ways she reminded him a lot of his mother—their strength, intelligence, loyalty, and love for their families mirrored one another. And if he didn’t speak up soon, let Cassia know how he felt toward her, he just might lose the chance to ever make her his or to ever experience the happiness his parents shared.

  “Tucker’s got yer papa’s bags, and ye can be pushin’ him in this chair on wheels to the wagon, while I visit the nurses’ desk. I’ll be wantin’ to make sure I’ve got all the paperwork and medicine right we’ll be needin’,” she said, bringing Brodie from his thoughts.

  “I can do that, Mama,” he offered.

  She paused with a frown. “I suppose ye’d know better than me if all was in order with the medicine, but don’t be long.” She pointed a finger at him. “I want to get Papa home and to bed then fix him somethin’ to eat and get some meat back on his bones.”

  “Now, Lass, I’ve been in bed long enough. I won’t have ye coddlin’ me like a wee babe,” his father objected.

  “Ye’ll be doin’ whatever it takes, Sean O’Clarity, to get yerself well again, and I’ll be hearin’ nay another word on the matter,” his mother countered, with hands on hips and a stern face.

  With a heavy sigh, his father nodded.

  Brodie stifled a smile and made his way to the nurses’ desk. They all knew by now challenging Sadie O’Clarity would get them nowhere.

  Once home, he had an opportunity to speak privately to his father while Tucker put the horse and wagon to bed and his mother made them all lunch. While putting away his father’s toiletries, he caught a glimpse of him donning his nightshirt. His brief nudity proved his mother’s worries. Sean O’Clarity was gaunt and frail. As a son, the thought caught in his throat and nagged at his heart. As a doctor he knew his mother wasn’t the only one who would be helping to put the meat back upon his father’s bones. He’d be right there as well to make sure his father got both his mother’s homemade love and his professional care.

  Making his way to the bed, he assisted his father in sitting on the edge. “Would you like me to line the bed with a few towels before you get in?”

  “Ye mean in case I piss meself?” his father snapped. “I’m not so feeble-minded I can’t be taken meself in to do me business properly.” He arched a brow. “Hope it’ll be a long while before I’ll be needin’ me wife or sons to help me onto a pot in bed or changin’ me bedclothes like a babe in nappies.”

  He sighed. “I didn’t mean to imply you are feeble minded, but you of all people know how it is when a person is weak and been through what you have. Sometimes in such instances a person can lose control of bodily functions and…”

  His father frowned. “I’m still in control o’ every bodily function the good Lord gave me, Lad,” his father interrupted gruffly. “And I know ye were just tryin’ to be helpful. So, I’m thankin’ ye for yer concern and advice and then askin’ ye not to be harpin’ on me about such things again.” His father stood before climbing into the bed.

  “Point taken.” Brodie covered his father’s bare, thin legs with the quilt. “I’ll keep my silence about me, then.”

  His father nodded. “Sometimes silence is best, and other times not so good.”

  He frowned. “What now are you implying?”

  His father’s gaze locked with his. “Did ye ever tell Cassia how yer feelin’ for her?”

  “No,” he whispered. “Not yet.”

  “Saints preserve us, lad, what the hell are ye waitin’ for?”

  “It hasn’t been the right time,” he said.

  “Wait long enough and some other lad’s goin’ come and say the words first,” his father warned. “And there’s nay another, other than ye, that’s goin’ to make a right life for that sweet lass.”

  He arranged a few pillows behind his father’s head. “How are you so sure of that, Papa?”

  “I know her, and I know ye,” the elder man said with conviction. “And the two o’ ye are what the other needs.” Resting back against the pillows, he went on. “One time, after the first encounter I had with yer mama in front o’ her parent’s barn, I caught her havin’ a lemonade at an outdoor café with a few friends. If me memory serves me right, she was laughin’ and enjoyin’ the company o’ a lad by the name o’ Timothy Darby.”

  Brodie sat at the edge of the bed. “I’ve never heard this story.”

  His father arched a brow. “Aye, well, there never was a need before for me to be tellin’ it.”

  “Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” he complained.

  His father relaxed deeper into the downy soft pillows. “I never liked Timothy—thought him to be a selfish sort—worryin’ only about what baubles and such he could buy to make himself better than others. And he flaunted his family’s wealth, used it to impress folks. Yer mother was taken with him for a wee bit o’ time.” He shrugged. “I suppose flowers and candy, lace ribbons, and other such delicate things can turn a lass’s head.”

  “And you were a struggling young doctor, overworked, underpaid, and exhausted,” he added.

  “Aye, that was the way o’ it for sure,” his father agreed. “But one night I was called again to yer mother’s home. This time yer grandpapa took ill. He’d gotten an infection from a small wound made by a rusty nail. All night I stayed to care for the old man, as his body raged with fever. Yer grandmamma and mother took turns helpin’ me swab him down with cool cloths. Ye learn a lot about someone—their likes, dislikes, values, and faith while sittin’ quietly beside a sick bed in the wee hours o’ th
e night. Yer mama and I did just that. By mornin’ the old man’s fever broke, and he was better. And from that time on, yer mother looked at me in a whole different way.” He smiled. “Knowin’ at first glance she was the lass for me, I didn’t hesitate to move further into her good graces. I even had it out with Timothy, findin’ him to be just as big o’ a fake as he was a coward. ’Tis a recourse that had to be taken, as the other man lost and the better man won the lady.”

  He sighed. “And what recourse do you take if the other man is your brother?”

  His father leaned forward. “Do ye truly believe Tucker’s sincere in his intentions toward the lass…that he wants or is after the same outcome as ye are?”

  “No,” he said. “I believe she’ll only fill his fancy for a time, before he moves on.”

  “Aye, ’tis me own take on the matter as well. So, then, the only recourse to take would be to tell the lass how yer feelin’ about her,” he said. “And ye need to do it soon.”

  Brodie frowned. “Why is it you’re taking my side over Tucker’s?”

  “I’m not takin’ anyone’s side, lad. I just don’t happen to believe Tucker’s up to the call. And ye are,” his father added. “Tucker hasn’t found himself yet. A man needs to know where he’s goin’ in life before he can take another person along with him. And ye’ve been headed in the right direction for some time now, as is Cassia. ’Tis only right, since ye’ve got strong feelin’s for the lass already, that ye save both o’ ye the sorrow o’ bein’ apart and act on yer heart’s desire.”

  Before Brodie could comment, his mother entered the room carrying a lunch tray. “Enough now with the visitin’.” She placed the tray on the bedside table and pulled a nearby chair closer to the bed. “Yer meal’s on the kitchen table, Brodie,” she said, not looking up from her task of separating her food from his father’s.

  “Thanks, Mama,” he said. Then to his father, “Enjoy your lunch, and then get some rest.”

  His father chuckled lightly. “Doctor’s orders?”