Cassie's Hope (Riders Up) (12 page)

Cassie’s cheeks
burned. She wasn’t supposed to learn of these treasures. Was he ever going to
mention them?

Her heart clinched.
She would be driving back to Chicago in only days. It didn’t matter. It had
never mattered. If it had, Clint would have told her about his children. She
found it hard to shake the urge to sob.

“Are you okay, Ms.
O’Hanlon?” Mrs. Travers asked.

Cassie shook her
head. “I’m fine. Just a bad memory there for a moment.”

“Ah,” the older
woman said, moving back to the stove.

Turning to her son,
she said, “Since you’re going to stay for the evening meal, why don’t you run
over and check on your grandmother? If she’s up for it, bring her back for
supper.”

“Didn’t know we
were staying.” He cocked his head to the side. “Suppose Grandmother never is
going to get a phone.” He scrunched his mouth one way and then the other. “Okay.
Is it all right with you, Cass? We’ll leave late, but we’ll be back in Evanston
well before morning.”

Cassie hadn’t
missed his ambivalence, but she smiled. “No problem here. As long as I’m back
to start working Hope in the morning.”

“Thanks,” he said
cheerfully. “Grandmother wouldn’t forgive me if everyone met you but her. It’s
a matter of honor.”

“I know. I really
do.” Cassie’s lips pursed. Had any of this been planned? Clint certainly looked
innocent enough. He’d seemed flustered for a moment when he spied his children
standing in the kitchen.

And now his
grandmother. Yes, she knew about grandmothers. They could easily be bent out of
shape if not included in what was happening. And Cassie guessed that at least
for the day,
she
was what was happening. She had to admit it felt good
to be included in matters of family.

“Children,” Mrs.
Travers said, after their father’s truck disappeared bouncing down the rutty
road. “Why don’t you go out and play for awhile and give Ms. O’Hanlon a chance
to breathe? You can talk with her some more later.”

Cassie was now at
the mercy of Clint’s mother. She tried to steel herself for the inevitable
grilling. “Can I help you, Mrs. Travers?”

“Sure, if you’d
like. How about chopping some vegetables?”

Cutting up carrots,
radishes, onions and lettuce for a salad provided a pleasant distraction. Still,
Cassie’s brain and stomach churned. What had she had gotten herself into? And
where were things going? A week-long summer fling was in danger of taking a
twist or two. Two children. Oh, my god!

After what seemed a
very prolonged silence, Clint’s mother said, “You must be something quite
special.”

“What?” Cassie
responded casually. “What do you mean?”

“Since Samantha’s
mother died giving birth, Clint has never brought a woman to this house to meet
me or his children. I know through the grapevine that there have been some, but
not in this house. So you see,” Mrs. Travers said, “you have to be something
very special.”

“Oh,” Cassie
sputtered. “But he didn’t really bring me to meet you or his children. Clint
had to stop here for something before we left for Evanston,” she explained. “He
didn’t even know the kids were here. You heard him.”

The older woman
stopped stirring the soup and stared at Cassie as if she believed her a fool. Finally,
Mrs. Travers said, “You’ve been around my son. Do you really think he just
happened to stop by? And I don’t think he looked too displeased to find his
children here.”

“Oh,” Cassie
whispered. “Ouch,” she yelped, as blood oozed from a sliced finger. Immediately,
she placed it in her mouth and sucked on it.

Mrs. Travers
laughed. “I’ll be right back with a bandaid. I guess you didn’t realize how
special you’ve become to my son. If I’m right, you’ll be in for many more
surprises.”

“Oh, hell,” Cassie
groaned, stepping outside to get some fresh air, her chest expanding with
exhilaration, with pride, with an emotion she could not and would not name. What
had happened to a simple, uncomplicated fling? And
this
would be a good
time to have her own set of wheels.

Supper turned out
to be a tasty fare. Cassie couldn’t remember ever having a better vegetable
soup. The homemade bread was delicious. And the salad she’d made was a hit. Conversation
was light, prompted mainly by the children. They wanted to know about the city
and the Chicago Cubs. She’d been surprised that even people out here knew about
the Cubs.

Grandmother
Littlefield turned out to be a different matter.
Taciturn
was a polite
way to describe her. Seldom did she put more than three words together, and not
often were there three. But she saw everything. Cassie hoped the woman couldn’t
see into her confused heart.

The slightly built
elderly woman could no longer stand straight. Her eyes burned like coal. Her
gnarled hands remained strong, her grip firm. Once she smiled broadly at her
great-granddaughter. The old woman was missing several teeth. Cassie wondered
if that was why she seldom spoke. Still, the woman carried herself with the
unassuming pride of the wise.

As Grandmother
Littlefield bade farewell before Clint took her back to her home, the wizened
woman clasped Cassie’s hands to her bosom. Staring intently into Cassie’s eyes,
she spoke solemnly, “Do not be afraid, Woman of Fire. You will do just fine.” With
that proclamation, she slipped into the darkness.

Cassie stood at the
doorway watching Clint help his grandmother into the truck. Shivers dashed up
and down her spine; goose-bumps fought for space on her arms.

Cassie played a
board game with the children until Clint returned. Her spirits were up again. How
could they be otherwise, with the energy of those two urchins? What one didn’t
think of, the other did. Their laughter filled Cassie’s soul and made her heart
lurch. Damn, she had to get out of here, and soon.

“We want Fire Woman
to tuck us in,” Samantha announced, when it was bedtime.

Starting to
protest, Cassie saw the vulnerability so evident on the two beaming faces. They
had seemed so, so strong and fun loving earlier. Now they seemed unsteady,
nearly lost.

“If it’s okay with
your father and grandmother.”

Both nodded assent.

The children slept
in a small room off the kitchen. Cassie pulled the covers up to tuck them under
Samantha’s chin. With a teddy bear in one hand, the little girl threw her arms
around Cassie, nearly pulling her off balance. No peck on the brow was going to
satisfy this child. Cassie hugged as strongly as she was being hugged.

Samantha whispered,
“Thanks for coming to see us. I like you. And I know Daddy does too.”

Cassie’s eyes
brimmed full with tears. She mumbled incoherently, “It was good to meet you. I
like you too.”

“What about my daddy?”

Cassie grinned. There
was no getting off the hook with this one. “Yes, I like your daddy too. Good-night.”

“Your turn, young
man,” Cassie said, taking a deep breath. Boys would not be as sentimental as
girls. Right?

She brushed Lester’s
hair out of his eyes and kissed his forehead. “Good-night, Lester. I enjoyed
meeting you too.”

“Me too,” he said,
his eyes shining with intensity. “Can you promise me something?”

Cassie looked at
the lad cautiously. “Well, if I can. What is it?”

“When you marry my dad,
can we be at the wedding?”

“My goodness,
Lester. Where did you get such an idea? We’ve not even talked of such a thing.”
Cassie clamped a hand over her mouth. She had to stop rattling on. This was an
eight year old child she was dealing with. He didn’t require a dissertation on
why she and his father would not be marrying.

“That’s okay, ma’am.
Just when you do. Don’t forget to invite us. Chicago sounds like a long way
away.”

Cassie hugged the
boy. She tried not to sob, yet unwanted tears ran down her cheeks. “Okay,” she
barely managed to mutter. Slowly, Cassie stood, wiped the tears from her eyes
and retreated from that tiny room overflowing with love.

When she re-entered
the kitchen, she saw Clint watching her oddly. She couldn’t decipher his
emotions; he’d put on a mask again.

“Are you okay,
Cass?” he asked. His concern was genuine.

Smiling weakly, she
replied, “Yeah, I’m all right. You certainly have a couple livewires there.” She
sighed deeply, as if preparing to get on with the rest of her life. “Don’t you
think we’d better be going soon? It’s already late.”

“Yeah, let me
gather my things.”

“Thanks so much for
your hospitality, Mrs. Travers,” Cassie said, turning to face the woman pouring
coffee into a thermos for them.

“I’m glad you could
be here,” said Mrs. Travers, glancing away. “Don’t let the children upset you. They
mean well. And obviously they like you a lot.”

“Did you…” Cassie’s
hand flew to her throat. “Did he hear them?”

“The walls here are
quite thin, I’m afraid.” Shaking her head, the woman said, “Don’t worry about
it. No harm was done. If it’s meant to be, then it will happen and neither you
nor my sometimes dunderhead of a son can do anything about it.”

- o -

They were driving
west on Highway 40 before Clint spoke, not quite sure what to anticipate from
Cassie. He’d half expected her to be railing at him by now. “Sorry about that
back there. Guess I should have warned you. Never know what’s gonna happen when
I stop there.”

“Never mind. I had
a delightful time,” Cassie mumbled mid-yawn, dozing off to sleep.

He tugged on her
gently. She slid across the bench seat and slept easily, with her head resting
against his shoulder and his arm securely wrapped about her.

With one hand on
the steering wheel, Clint drove on into the night deep in thought. There would
be some serious explaining to do, but at least not right now.

Why had he stopped
there? The papers he’d picked up regarding his mother’s property taxes were
important, but certainly not urgent.

And what about
Sammy and Lester? Did they want a mother so badly they would jump on the first
woman he brought home? But she wasn’t just any woman. She was his spitfire—well,
at least for the moment. What was it his grandmother had called her?
Woman
of Fire
. Wasn’t that the truth. He never wanted to tame that fire, but neither
did he want to be burned by it. Singed maybe, but not burned.

- o -

Cassie smelled his
scent and savored it. She rested easily pressed against his body. There was
much to talk about, but she didn’t need to do that just yet. She wanted the
whole afternoon and evening to just wash over her in its fullness.

Why couldn’t life
stay like this? She’d felt the love within the Travers family. And she’d felt
the love they were willing to share with her.

She shuddered. That
wasn’t where she was headed. A horse trainer who couldn’t even race his best
horses where they might make some money. A strange man who she still knew so
little about. A father. Two children.

Cassie slipped off
into dreamland. Several sets of coal-black eyes moved in and out of a haze,
comforting, beckoning, chastising, challenging, supporting. Their message was
oblique; their message was clear.

CHAPTER SIX

The alarm clock
clamored as if from a faraway echo chamber. Cassie moaned dreamily; one bare
leg jerked out from under the covers. The noise didn’t abate. With one eyelid
slit open, she reached for the clock. It crashed to the floor with a bang,
ringing as loudly as ever. Tossing the blankets aside, she dropped to her knees,
blindly searching for the offending object. At last, she pushed the oppressive
button. Silence. She sighed, grateful for small accomplishments.

Standing,
disheveled, she raked her fingers through tangled hair trying to remember where
she was and what she was doing in the small dank motel room. Ah, he’d dropped
her off several hours earlier so she could get some sleep before heading to the
track.

Memories overran
her like so many unwanted bounced checks—memories of a slightly overprotective
hunk of a man, of two impish children eager to adopt her as their own, of his
mother reserved yet welcoming, and of his grandmother peering into her heart.

Cassie shuddered. This
she didn’t need. A fling was one thing; a family was quite another. A fling
wasn’t even an affair. Family meant rings, promises, and responsibilities. And
in this case, being a mother. “I’ve got more than enough responsibilities
already,” she snarled. “Thank you very much.”

Who had poured
concrete into her arms and legs? Everything she did preparing Hope for her
morning workout occurred in slow motion. Her social outing to Utah had taken
more out of her than she’d realized. Glancing around with more than a little
curiosity, she could see no evidence of his blue pickup. He was expected at the
stables, but then he’d driven all the way back to Evanston while she slept.

Where the hell was
he? He had to come, because she had to tell him they were finished. And he had
some tall explaining to do. When did he get the fantastic idea of taking her to
his mother’s house? And why hadn’t he ever said anything about his kids? Clearly,
he loved them. Didn’t he think she was good enough for them?

Cassie forced bile
back down her throat. No matter. She was leaving. The best thing about
Evanston, Wyoming and all it represented would be watching it disappear in her
rearview mirror. She kicked at an imaginary object; her horse kicked out a hind
leg, barely missing Cassie’s ankle.

“Better pay
attention to business, or you’ll find yourself in the hospital yet.”

Cassie’s heart
sank. She whirled. “Why the hell are you always sneaking up on me, Clint
Travers? Can’t you ever make noise like the rest of us?”

“Cause I love your
reaction at being surprised, I guess.” He paused to watch a rider trot a horse
toward the track. He smiled that lopsided grin, immediately sending Cassie’s
stomach tumbling, jeopardizing her vow to distance herself from the man. “Suppose
we need to talk some about yesterday,” he drawled, his tone turning suddenly
serious.

“I don’t,” she
countered, trying to appear nonplused. “I’m pulling out of here tomorrow after
I’ve packed my gear and gotten some sleep. Yesterday was just one more crazy
blip on this little weird journey of mine.”

“Ah, so the ice
queen re-emerges. You’re right, it doesn’t really matter. The people you met
yesterday don’t matter. It was a mistake to take you there. I hadn’t planned
it. I wish to God it hadn’t happened.” He spun about and walked stiffly toward
his end of shedrow.

Tears burned Cassie’s
eyes.
Damn him
. Ice queen. She was no ice queen. She was merely being
sensible. There was no room in her life for a man, especially a horse trainer
fifteen hundred miles from Chicago with two incredibly cute kids. No way!

Two hours later,
Cassie sat in the canteen sipping tea and trying to calm her nerves. She
glanced out the window and saw Travers packing gear into his horse trailer. Was
he going to leave before she could?

She stood up and
tossed some coins on the table and moved swiftly toward the exit. Damn if he
was going to get away without her clearing up a few things.

- o -

Clint slammed the
storage door shut. The woman had really gotten under his skin this time. Hell,
he’d had affairs before. And some of those women were still among his best
friends. But Cassie O’Hanlon had discounted him from the beginning—because he
was a horse trainer. And then she’d rejected his family. That was the last
straw. She might not like him, but…

He sat on the
running board, took out his penknife and started cleaning the dirt wedged in
the grooves of his boot.

Things would be
better after she went back to Chicago. He wouldn’t have to see her every day
and visually undress the damn woman. He knew her curves too well. He knew her
scent too well. He knew her taste too well.

She’d turned him
inside out, and he’d done nothing to resist. Even when it was clear all she
wanted was a fling, he had just blithely followed along, as if she was a female
Pied Piper. The best thing to do now was ignore her. He didn’t trust himself to
get too close to her even now. He knew he’d never physically harm a woman, but
he might burn her ass with words she’d never heard before.

He felt used…yet
she’d been honest with him from the beginning. He was the fool for thinking
there might be more between them. Maybe her declaration of having no future
with a horse trainer had simply goaded him into trying to prove her wrong.

Clint folded up his
knife and relaxed a bit. He’d bet that was it. She’d just provoked his
competitive spirit. That was all there was to it. He could survive the
resulting damage to his ego. My god, what would have happened if he’d won her
over and she’d wanted more? He wasn’t ready for another wife.

The best thing he
could do was pack up his horses and take them back to Utah. He could skip the
next weekend of racing. Besides, the kids would be thrilled to have him home
for a couple weeks.

“There you are,”
Cassie said. “You’re not going anywhere until I tell you a thing or two.”

“Whoa, woman.” Clint
stood and leaned against the horse trailer. “I feel more comfortable facing
your fire standing.”

She stood with
hands on hips glaring at him, trying to remember why she had to leave.

Clint smiled
bitterly. “Okay, woman, spit it out. If you don’t, you’ll burst, and I don’t
want to be responsible for that.”

That did it. Cassie
pulled off her baseball cap and banged it against the trailer. Ignoring the
resulting dust cloud, she said shortly, “You can be the most vexing man, Clint
Travers.”

“I imagine you’re
right about that.”

“I just wanted you
to know before I leave that what we shared this week meant a lot to me. I will
always treasure that time in my heart.”

“Right.”

“Don’t be an ass
when I’m trying to tell you how I feel.”

“Okay,” Clint said
guardedly.

“I didn’t come here
seeking a man in my life. I just got rid of one. You were different. The
attraction was heated—mutually, I believe. And any relationship with you had
boundaries. I was clear about that right along.”

He stared blankly
at her, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“So. I needed you
to know how special our lovemaking, all our time together was. And it’s
terribly important to me that you know I’m not walking away because I didn’t
like your family. You have a warm, loving family. Your kids are treasures.” Cassie
shook her head, fighting back tears.

“Yes, you’re a
horse trainer and I’ve vowed not to get involved with any man in the horse
world. But, to be truthful, I don’t want to be involved with any man at this
point in my life. There is too much going on with my father, with Hope, with my
career. I don’t have time or space for a man right now. I’m sorry, but that’s the
way it is. You need to find a woman who will be comfortable being the wife of a
horseman and mother to his children. You don’t need me.”

Clint pulled on his
nose and looked toward the southeastern horizon. He glanced back at her and
tipped his hat. “I guess you’re right, lady.”

His cold words
stung like windblown hail. She glimpsed the pain in his dark eyes before he
spun on his heel, opened the door to his truck, climbed in, started the engine
and drove off.

Cassie watched the
truck disappear around the corner of the stable; tears coursed down her cheeks.
What had she really expected? She’d said her piece. He’d listened. And then he
left.

So be it.

The red-orange glow
of the rising sun nearly blinded Cassie. Sunglasses hardly mattered. Fighting
the glare, fighting a headache, fighting tears, she guided her truck and
trailer eastward along the deep rock-cut banks of Rock Springs, Wyoming. The
flaming orb appeared to be sitting atop I-80. She slowed down, letting braver
or crazier drivers go by in the passing lane.

Anxiously, she
cussed at the poor timing of having to travel through that particular part of
the country at sunrise. But she’d wanted to get an early start to take
advantage of the cooler morning hours and to avoid attracting unwanted
attention to her departure. She’d pulled out of the Downs long before dawn.

I Only Wanna Be With
You
was blaring on the truck radio. Wrong song. She punched the
off
button,
but the silence wasn’t much better.

She hadn’t been
surprised to see the blue pickup that Travers called his road office parked
among the few vehicles sitting in the lot that early in the morning. Had he
come back to be certain she’d left his kingdom? As she drove her rig out of the
parking lot, she’d felt his eyes boring in on her. He’d no doubt been buried
deep in the shadows of the stables.

- o -

She’d been right. Clint
had stood stoically in the shadows of shedrow and watched until the tail-lights
of her trailer could no longer be seen. He’d wanted to leave for Utah before
she left for Chicago—so much for determination. He’d changed his mind because
he wanted to say something to her to erase the bitterness of his words the
previous day, but he couldn’t find the words to replace them. The woman made
him feel inept and callous. Like no other woman he’d ever known, she’d turned
him inside out, and he didn’t like it a damn bit.

He stood there a
while after she drove out, trying to appreciate the still burning stars of
Father Sky. There was little room in his soul for thanksgiving. He felt utterly
bereft and painfully alone. His eyes narrowed watching those taillights
disappear in the darkness before the dawn. He wanted to put her behind him, but
he was certain he wasn’t finished with the red-headed minx aiming for I-80 and
her escape route east.

- o -

The Chicago skyline
stood out crisply against a clear blue sky. The strong tail wind that had
helped Cassie make good time coming across the prairie had scoured the Chicago
air of smog. Cassie knew it wouldn’t last long, but it was beautiful.

She glanced in her
review mirror. She hoped she hadn’t made the biggest mistake of her life. She
couldn’t help but fume over him not telling her about his kids. She hadn’t been
prepared. They’d curled around her heart before she had a chance to mount a
proper defense. No way could she be an instant mother. Good thing it was just a
fling.

She was running
scared, but that was okay. At least, she could still run. When would she be
able to sleep again without feeling chilled because he wasn’t holding her?

Turning off the
Interstate, she left those thoughts behind. She had an important race to
prepare for and she couldn’t afford any distractions. Cassie’s Hope needed her
full attention.

Three nights later,
Cassie wrestled in her sleep. There was no relief for a pained heart. She’d had
no choice. She couldn’t have stayed. Maybe he was more man than she wanted, and
there was no room in her life for kids.

Why couldn’t she
convince her heart of that fact?

- o -

Fifteen hundred
miles away, Clint Travers paced the living room where they’d made such
beautiful music together in front of the fireplace. The hearth was now dark. He
hadn’t built a fire since she’d left.

He’d wanted to
call, but she’d probably hang up. And anyhow, the phone couldn’t help him with
his need to run his fingers through her thick auburn mane. He wanted to hear
her voice, but he desperately needed that tactile sensation of her fire
singeing him every time he brushed up against her.

Would she even
speak to him if he went to Chicago? Could he handle her rejection—again? Clint’s
cheek muscles twitched. Was she worth the risk? Were
they
worth the
risk? If he went to her, he’d make it damn clear that he wasn’t pursuing a
fling. He’d be coming after the entire package—body, mind and soul.