It felt like he’d whispered in her ear. Heat crawled up her cheeks to her hairline.
His smile turned dark and he winked at her.
The bell over the door rang, and as the crowd turned to see who’d walked in, she caught a glimpse of Finn arriving. Now the madness was complete.
“Bill Wernick is talking about selling that property that adjoins yours,” Paul continued, seeming oblivious to what took place inside their booth. “It would almost double your grounds. You’d need somebody up there full time to help you then. You really need to call me, little girl.”
“Bill wants to sell his high pasture?” her father asked, setting down his spoon. His eyes glazed with longing. “It’s a beautiful piece of land, Cassie. There’s that high valley up there with the pond and the waterfall.”
“I’ll talk to Bill about it,” she said before her father could start waxing poetic about the land. He knew the mountain like no one else, and had taken her all over it when she was a child. High up and commanding a view of the valley, that land would be a great place for more cabins and tents below, but she’d have to look at her insurance and find out what his price was. Her rec hall would have to wait another year at least.
“So you think you might be able to hire Dan full time?” Melinda asked.
“Let’s not get our hopes up yet.”
“About what?” Finn asked, stopping at the edge of the table. He glowered at Jason in what amounted to a challenge, but Jason was too busy scraping the last of the corn pudding out of its ramekin to notice there’d been one issued.
Then Jason twitched one foot and looked at her through his eyelashes. The motion so startled Cass, her finger slipped off her fork and plunged into her refried beans. He’d noticed the challenge and blew it off. Someone must have given him the script pages with the background story, and he knew he had nothing to worry about from Finn’s direction.
“Cass might buy Bill Wernick’s high pasture,” Paul told him.
“You should talk to me about these things before you make a decision, Cass. I am your accountant,” Finn whined. He must have noticed his challenge had been dismissed, too.
Cass tried not to flinch at the possessive way Finn spoke to her and opened her mouth to snap that she’d just heard about it.
“Paul, this is excellent,” Jason cut her off, announcing over everyone else. “I haven’t eaten this well since the last time I was in Europe. Thank you.”
“Oh, well, it was nothing.” Paul turned a shade of red that competed with Ida’s hair for wattage.
Cass stuck her thumb in her mouth to clean it off, hoping no one would expect her to speak. However, if she needed to intervene she would have food in her mouth and wouldn’t be able to. Decisions, decisions. Jason watched her draw her thumb out of her mouth the way he might watch the first day of creation. His hand tightened around his fork, and he licked his lips. Oh dear.
“What’s the matter, swee’pea?” Dad asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “My thumb slipped.”
“Are you going to buy this land, Cass?” Finn demanded.
“Paul,” her mom asked, “could you find it in your heart to give me the recipe for that chili?”
“Well, if he gives all his recipes away, why would anyone bother to eat here?” Ida retorted.
Cass resorted to wiping the rest of the refried beans off her thumb with her paper napkin so she could observe the rest of the table for signs they had picked up on the interchange between her and Jason a second ago. Paul’s gaze turned from her to Jason, innocently devouring his lunch. Two and two were rapidly becoming five, possibly six. Paul was a great cook and an excellent mathematician when it came to human algebra.
“Cass?” Finn demanded again.
“Oh, Finn, leave it alone.” Paul elbowed him. “You know, Shirl, it isn’t that hard if you have the right cilantro.”
Paul started talking about the food. He must have picked up on her discomfort. Maybe she could speak with him about Jason flirting with her. Ugh, bad. Paul made an excellent information hub but a lousy confidante. Her father and Finn debated her ability to buy and improve the pasture with her current income stream. Finn was against it, felt she couldn’t take the financial risk. Her father, in a typical knee-jerk reaction, thought she could if they were careful. He’d never been very fond of Finn. Maybe that had something to do with her lack of interest. Melinda asked polite and pointed questions, trying to ascertain the added workload the extra land would entail. She would be for anything that might keep her son in town.
“Well, the other customers are getting jealous,” Ida said eventually, and wandered off. Melinda left behind her, seeming confident about Dan having a summer job and potentially a permanent one right here in town. Paul had meals to cook. Beneath the pressure of her father’s barrage, Finn took his Wednesday turkey and Swiss on rye back to his office to eat.
There. Now she could breathe normally. She returned to the conversation. Her parents were talking to Jason. Actually, her father and Jason were discussing cars. Safe enough, so she let it go.
Cass finished her meal. Jason had not recommenced playing footsie since she’d stuck her thumb in the beans, but neither had he relinquished his hold. Paul delivered the recipe to her mother, gave Cass one long significant look and vanished into the kitchen. Based on the way Mom had focused on the recipe, she apparently thought she would have to memorize it and eat the card before she left the building. Hah! Everyone else might believe her mother was studying the recipe. She was really studying Jason.
“So is everyone full?” Ida asked, coffeepot in hand.
“Yes, it was excellent,” Jason said. “My compliments to the chef.”
“Oh, don’t you dare. His head’s already big enough.” Ida cackled.
“I’ll take the bill,” he told her.
Mom and Dad objected, and Ida over rode them. “There’s no bill.”
“Really?” Cass asked.
“Are you kiddin’? This was an excellent opportunity to suss out what else that boy can make.” Ida grinned. “We might be having us a Spanish special one of these nights. The tourists’ll love it.”
Dad stood and grabbed her mom’s hand. “Well, I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Nice meeting you, Jason.” He pulled Cass into a bear hug and used the opportunity to whisper into her ear, “Nice boy.”
Mom held out her hand to shake Jason’s and when he kissed it instead, giggled like a girl. Still giggling, she hugged Cass. As Mom stepped back, a blush brightened her cheeks. Dad helped Mom into her coat. Cass turned back to pick up hers and found Jason already holding it open for her. Over the collar and past Jason’s arm, she saw Paul simpering from the kitchen door before she turned to step into it. As she adjusted it around her shoulders, Jason scooped her hair out of the collar. The backs of his fingers brushed her neck. She had to bite back a moan of pleasure. The outward ripples of delight threatened to roll her eyes back in her head an instant before they nearly unhinged her knees. She kept her expression neutral through force of will, but her mother’s gaze sharpened on her face anyway. It was hopeless.
Chapter 5
“When I’m done, I’ll come help you.” The cold wind sliced through her. She hugged herself, trying to get a little more coverage out of the inadequate coat. The cold at least encouraged her parents to hurry home.
“I still don’t know what to buy,” Jason protested. “Why don’t I go with you, and when you’re done, we can do my shopping together?”
Stars and birds should be circling her head from the cartoon anvil that just fell on it, but she refrained from looking. She needed a few minutes away from the too tempting Mr. Callisto to get her head back on straight.
But her father approved of him. Dad, who disapproved of the accountant, thought the rock star was dandy.
Her father must be getting senile.
“No, I just have a couple of quick stops anyway.” She unlocked her truck and g
rabbed the box of mail on the seat. “Look for stuff you can eat without cooking, or heat and eat. I’ll come find you as soon as I’m done.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Jason shifted from foot to foot beside the truck like he was being abandoned.
Cass shut her door and set off for the post office with her box, not looking back to check if he was watching her.
The town commercial district consisted of two blocks along the imaginatively named Main Street, with lesser businesses off Maple, Pine and Willow avenues. Apart from the cars parked on the street, it looked like a movie set for the Depression. The town hall sat at the center of town with a statue of a Civil War hero on his horse in front of it. Every year the high school graduating class pulled a prank involving the statue. Last year they’d dressed the poor man in a flowered dress and straw hat. Cass’s class had mummified him and his horse in torn sheets.
Beside the town hall was the post office. Cass pushed through the door and breathed deeply. The post office always smelled of wood, paper and coffee. Sanity itself, something in short supply after that lunch.
“Well, hello, Cassandra,” Ben, the postmaster greeted her. “I didn’t expect to see you in town already. And dressed up so pretty today. I heard you got yourself a winter guest.”
“Hi, Ben.” Cass set her box on the counter. She should have known the whole town would know about Jason even if they didn’t know who he was. How had she not considered that when she’d offered to drive him down for groceries and lunch? “I do have a guest, but he didn’t pack any food so I volunteered to bring him in to the grocery store.”
“Good girl,” Ben told her, his white walrus mustache quivering. “Got some things to go, do you?”
“Yeah.” She took the letter she’d written to Gretta off the top of the box. “I need this one to go overnight.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “Truck’s already been.”
“I just want it to go out as soon as possible.”
“I think that’s doable. I’ll take this and get you your mail.”
Ben shuffled into the back room. He’d been the postmaster here all her life. The post office was only open a few hours a day and those were apt to change if he wasn’t feeling well. Years ago, everyone in town started picking up their mail because they worried about Ben trying to deliver it. He didn’t even try any more. The only way anyone got their mail was to pick it up themselves. Another thing she’d hated about Potterville before she’d left that hadn’t seemed so bad when she returned. So the mail didn’t show up at her door on a daily basis. Nothing coming that way needed to be dealt with all that fast anyhow.
“Here you are, my girl. You should be needing stamps next time, too, if I count these right.” He winked. “You should dress up more often, Cassie. You look very pretty today.”
She forced a smile. She’d worn a nice coat, and he’d be on the phone the moment she pushed out the door. Within half an hour everyone in town would know she’d come down to town all gussied up with her guest and had a special lunch at Ida’s with the guest and her parents. They wouldn’t go so far as to dress her in a ball gown, but the off-the-rack peacoat would have morphed into a designer coat she must have bought in New York City. By the time this seven-day wonder had petered out, she’d be wearing a Chanel coat and carrying a Coach bag.
And her father approved of the rock star over the accountant.
She hefted the refilled box from the counter and hurried out the door. The sooner she finished her errands, the better.
“Hey! Hey, Cassie! What’s your rush?”
She stopped. How had she managed to forget she’d have to pass Finn’s office to get to Sue’s? She didn’t want to deal with Finn right now, or ever really. Not that she didn’t like him, she just didn’t like him as much as he did her, and it never failed to make her guilty. As she turned to deal with this albatross, she tried to compose herself. “Hi, Finn.”
“So that was your famous guest,” he stated, wrapping his long arms around his chubby body. He must have been in such a hurry to hunt her down, he’d forgotten his coat. A blob of mayonnaise also clung to the corner of his mouth. If she had any romantic leanings for him, that sight would have been adorable. As it was, she only wanted him to go finish his lunch.
“It is.”
“Are you sure it’s safe to be up there on the mountain with him?” Finn asked. “I mean, I saw how he was looking at you and it didn’t look like…look like he had good…intentions.”
He wasn’t worried about her safety as much as her virtue, what remained of it. She couldn’t resist pushing him, and widened her eyes. “What intentions would he have?”
“You’re all alone up there with no one to protect you. News said a storm’s coming. What if you get trapped? What if he becomes a sex-crazed maniac and attacks you?” Finn blushed. Then his teeth started to chatter.
“It’s pretty unlikely. Word would get out. There might be a trial or something. Go on back to your office before you freeze to death out here.” He’d been after her since high school, and she’d never once felt the slightest spark of attraction for him. Repeated explanations of this fact didn’t hinder him in the least, though it left her mildly annoyed. If she could settle for Finn, her life would be so much easier.
“I’m just trying to help.” Now he verged on whining.
“I can take care of myself. Remember two years ago, when that bear decided to hang out around my house? I survived just fine. And those five years I lived in New York? Still alive. It’s amazing really.” She folded her arms. He started shivering and didn’t seem inclined to go where it was warm, like Angela Costi’s arms. “Finn, go back to your office. I’ll bring my taxes by next time I come down the mountain and we can talk about them over lunch, okay?”
He smiled through his chattering teeth. “That would be great. We can talk about your property. I can help you, Cass.”
“I know.” Finn could always help her. He set up her computer, did her taxes and her financial planning, worked out legal and fiscal details she hadn’t even considered, and occasionally appeared to help her clean up her camp sites after the winter. He wasn’t so bad looking, even if the desk job and winter had him a little chubbier than ideal. Any woman in her right mind would leap at the chance.
But her father disapproved of the accountant and approved of the rock star, so madness might run in the family.
“You look nice today, anyway,” Finn said, breaking into her thoughts.
“Thanks, now get inside before you freeze to death.” She turned and walked away from him. He wasn’t stupid, just obtuse. She’d lain awake nights wondering if she should be mean to him so he’d get over it. The small amount of friendliness she gave only served to encourage him. She did like him as a friend, and he was an excellent accountant, but maybe in order to help him, she had to hurt him. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it.
She pushed through the door of the travel agency and Sue looked up with the wild look of a woman with too much coffee and too little company.
“Cassie! Did you hear?”
At that volume, Cassie could have heard her from across the street. “That the school is planning on doing some events this summer?”
“Small potatoes. Small, small potatoes.” Sue waved her hands in the air over her desk. “You will never guess who I got a call from. Trish, the marketing director from the ski lodge. They want to distribute our schedule, and gave me their events and activities list to add to ours. They want to join in. This is big. This is huge!” She flailed her arms, knocking over her oversized coffee cup. Coffee splashed up the wall behind her. “Even better. Well, you heard about the school.”
“I did.” Cassie bent forward to watch coffee continue to dribble down the wall. “Don’t you need to clean that up?”
“It’s fine. I was going to call you. I figured out how to put the schedule online. We can advertise to a whole new segment. This is really getting big.” Sue leaned over the coun
ter conspiratorially. “Have you heard about the Donaldson Funeral Home? Wegman’s are going to buy it and make it into a B&B.”
“I heard.”
“I hope Maddy doesn’t poison anyone. But you came in to get the stuff to do the schedule, right?” Sue started shuffling through the piles of papers on her desk. She snatched up a red file folder, rifled through it, picked up a couple of papers off her desk, jammed them in and held it out. “This is everything. Absolutely everything.”
And it would be. Under that chaotic and hyper exterior hid an organizational genius.
“Thanks, Sue. I’ll send you the schedule as soon as I get it worked out.” Cassie backed through the door, slightly exhausted by the encounter.
Outside, she paused to investigate what her mother had started.
The music teacher at the high school had a full schedule of evening concerts in the pavilion on the town hall green. Nothing could be more divine than listening to an out of tune, out of sync high school jazz band playing under the stars while being attacked by mosquitoes the size of helicopters.
Not to be out done, the drama-slash-English teacher offered plays, different ones every month for the whole season, Friday and Saturday nights. Their own little taste of Broadway in the high school gym yet, where the scent of floor wax, sweaty sneakers and chalk dust could complete the experience.
The middle school gym would be used for nightly dances, and Irma and Bob Tompkins were giving dance lessons in the afternoons. Irma and Bob were lovely people, but they could hardly walk anymore, let alone dance. Their daughter, the middle school principal, was probably behind that.
The shop teachers were organizing their own robot wars for Sunday afternoons on the football field, which made her wonder how the football coach felt about having his field torn up, or if perhaps they had misrepresented what robot wars involved. Of course, the football boosters were selling refreshments so maybe he knew.
And the PTA planned a rubber duck race for Labor Day Weekend. She really should start going to the school board meetings. Something was going on with those people.
Heaven Beside You Page 6