Cassie's Hope (Riders Up) (19 page)

Cassie cringed. “That’s
terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, guess we
both know something about rejection.”

“But did your
father grow to resent his adopted family?”

“No, not in the
least. I think it might have been a relief for him to get away from his own. He
became quite successful with the ranch and with the stock market. His knowledge
about oil and gas put him in an excellent position to take advantage of the oil
crisis and down markets of the early seventies. He was well positioned when
things bounced back. Very well positioned. That’s when he started dabbling in
race horses, first quarter horses and then thoroughbreds.

“It was a natural
progression, I guess. We’d always had horses. I rode in front of one of my
parents long before I could walk. There were always reservation horse races and
rodeos to take part in. My sister and I have taken the horseracing business
much further than Dad ever envisioned, but he got us started.”

“And he died young.”

“Yeah. The doctor
said it was a sudden heart attack.” Clint’s voice faltered. “Nothing could’ve
been done.”

“And you miss him.”

“So what do you
think Lester and Sammy have cajoled out of your father this morning? They’re experts
at getting people to do things they never intended.”

“They sure are.” Cassie
peeked over at him. His cheek muscles remained taut. The conversation about his
father was concluded. What had he left out?

“So how much money
should I bet when Hope runs next?” Ashton Brookings asked. “Are we still
playing cops and robbers?”

Clint gave Cassie a
questioning look before responding in a low tone. “I wouldn’t suggest betting
the house.”

He’d immediately
liked Cassie’s long time friend. The woman’s dark chocolate skin nearly glowed
and her refreshing humor seemed to be without bounds. He knew her questions
were in jest, but a cafe near the racetrack where most of the regular Friday
lunch crowd had some connection with the track or the backside was hardly the
place to discuss or joke about playing detective or wondering about who was
conspiring to throw races or drug horses.

Beside him, Cassie
flinched and shook her head sadly. Clint brushed her shoulder with his.

“We still don’t
know about the other,” Cassie whispered in hushed tones, tipping her head
toward nearby folks.

“Oh,” said Ashton,
glancing around at the other tables, “sorry, I didn’t think about being
overhead. I’m generally more careful.” She picked at her salad briefly before
asking, “So tell me, Clint, about Utah. I’ve never been there. Is it as
conservative as we hear?”

“I doubt the state
will break any liberalism records,” Clint began. “No casinos. No betting. There
are folks who believe it’s their responsibility to look out for the morality of
others. Yet there’s much more diversity than many expect to find. While there
are very few blacks, there is a strong Chicano community. And of course my
people were present in the area long before any white man made it across the
mountains. Do you like mountains?”

“Sure,” Ashton
said. “I’ve been to the Smokies, and to the Green Mountains of Vermont. I haven’t
traveled west yet.”

“Then you haven’t
seen mountains yet.” Clint chuckled. “Many of our peaks are snowcapped until
the middle of summer. The fall can be spectacular, when the color line creeps
down the cliffs and the draws. If you like canyons, we have plenty. If you like
desert, we have a lot of that, too. You know what I miss most, though, is being
able to see for as far as the eye can see.”

“It’s expansive,”
Cassie chimed in. “I felt like my eyeballs were going to stretch and burst. It didn’t
seem like anything stood in the way to stop them from straining.”

Clint chased
ketchup across his plate with a French fry. “So you’re a social worker like
Cass?”

“Yeah, I work with
kids getting into trouble with the law. Your world sounds like another planet
to me,” Ashton said. “I’d like to get some of our project kids to see something
like that. They think their world ends four blocks in any direction.”

“The place may look
quite different, but we share the same problems,” he confided. “I work with
some of the local kids, trying to keep them out of the grasp of the legal
system.”

“That’s right. Cassie
told me you’ve done some work with kids.” Ashton shook her head. “You two do
have a lot in common. But it still stretches my mind how you blend horses and
social service.”

“Maybe we’ll have
to work harder on that,” Clint said, resting his hand on Cassie’s knee.

Cassie blushed, but
took no action to remove his hand.

“Maybe I should be
bringing some kids out to your farm, Cass. Is there magic in those horses?”

“I don’t know about
that. But you’re welcome to bring as many as you want. Certainly there are
professionals who argue strongly for the therapeutic value of kids being around
animals.”

“It’s something to
think about.” Ashton checked her watch. “I’m going to have to run. Gotta get
back downtown soon. Am I going to get to meet your kids on this trip, Clint? I’ve
heard a lot about them. They sound like a couple precious imps.”

Clint laughed,
glancing quickly at Cassie. “They are that. Sure. They’re going to be here for
over a week. We don’t fly back to Utah until a week from next Tuesday.”

“Why don’t you plan
on coming out to the farm for a picnic supper this Sunday?” Cassie said. “I’ll
see if Traci and Susan can come too. Lester and Sammy will have a great time. Just
don’t let them wheedle you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

Showing a lot of
white teeth, Ashton asked, “Is that what you’re afraid of Cass?”

Cassie looked at Clint
in horror. Her breathing faltered. Speechless, she stared back at Ashton.

“It’s okay, girl,”
Ashton said softly, placing her hand on top of Cassie’s. A half dozen bracelets
jangled. “It’s okay to be afraid sometimes. It makes you human.” Directing her
gaze at Clint, she added, “Cassie O’Hanlon was always known as the
tough-skinned one in grad school. You could put her in the ghetto, in the detox
center, in the home for unwed mothers, and she’d tough it out emotionally.

“She needs someone
to share her innermost self with…without being hurt.” Smiling genuinely, Ashton
said, “I hope you’re the man who can do that. But if you hurt her, I’ll have to
find my way out to that desolate territory they call Utah and shoot me up a
ranch.”

Gracefully, the
woman stood to leave. “See you two on Sunday. Nice meeting you, Clint.” Ashton
waved and headed for the exit.

 Clint leaned back
in the booth and howled.”Damn,” he said, “I think you’re surrounded by an army
of admirers who don’t flinch at warning strangers that you’re special and
deserve special treatment. Fortunately, I happen to agree with them.”

Looking like she
wanted to protest, Cassie chose not to. “A little pampering, from time to time,
is okay,” she admitted. She stuck out her chin. “Just don’t forget that I’m
quite capable of taking care of myself, with or without a man.”

“Now how could I
ever forget that?”

“Just see that you
don’t.”

“Do the kids really
scare you, Cassidy?” Clint asked seriously.

Cassie inhaled
sharply before answering. “They are the most lovable creatures. And they scare
me nearly to death.”

“I want to go see
the submarine!” Lester shouted.

“No. No! The doll
collection. Please, can’t we go see the dolls?” Samantha begged, tugging on
Cassie’s hand.

“Dolls. Yuck!”
Lester groaned.

Glancing quickly at
Clint for some kind of direction, Cassie found nothing but a broad smile. How
had she become the tour guide and decision-maker?

It had seemed like
a simple thing to do…the right thing to do. The Museum of Science and Industry
had a little bit of everything. She now admitted it had a lot of everything and
there was no way they could see it all.

Silver Hawk had
begged off this tour to spend some time with the horses and to take a break
from these kids possessed by boundless energy. Now Cassie could better
appreciate why a break was needed. She needed one, and they’d only been at it
for two hours.

“We can do both. The
submarine exit is on the way to the doll collection, so let’s do the submarine
first and then the dolls,” she suggested. “Okay?”

She picked Sammy up
as an extra incentive for waiting, and the little girl immediately wound her
fingers through Cassie’s hair.

“Okay, but don’t
forget,” Sammy warned.

Cassie looked to
Clint for some relief.

Grinning, he
remarked, “You do that so well. I’ll bet you took a course on mediation.” Leaning
over, he pecked her cheek while disentangling his daughter from thick strands
of auburn hair.

“Actually,” he
offered lamely, “why don’t we get something to eat first.”

“All right!” both
children responded in unison.

“That way we can
sit down for awhile,” Clint whispered in Cassie’s ear.

Cassie chuckled. “You
do that so well. You must have taken a course on bribery.”

“It works. That’s
what counts.”

After they made
their way to the food kiosk, Cassie watched happily as the kids tore into their
hot dogs. She’d never had a tastier hamburger. How had she become so famished?

 Sitting down felt
so good. The energy of a six and eight year old amazed her. And it seemed very
odd not to be at the track on a Saturday morning. But she and Clint had decided
that they needed time to be alone with the kids.

Actually, Lester
and Sammy had made that decision, now that she remembered right, and the
grownups concurred. Neither she nor Clint had horses running that weekend, so
they’d turned their care over to a couple grooms. And here they were surrounded
by noise and smiles, with a pout or two thrown in now and then.

She loved it. Yet
she was keenly aware of being the visitor. She was the part-time stand-in for a
parent. What would it be like to have that role full-time? Her body temp
dropped two degrees.

“Are you okay,
Cassie?” Sammy asked frowning. “You look like your soda went down the wrong
tube. That happens to me when I drink too fast.”

Cassie blushed at
being caught by a six year old, but she wasn’t about to share her thoughts. “No,
I’m fine. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I was drinking too fast.”

CHAPTER TEN

“How about your
social work stuff?” Clint inquired, straddling a straight-backed chair in
Cassie’s loft apartment, his long legs stretched out before him. “Could someone
be steamed enough at you because you wrote them up or maybe recommended jail
time or argued to keep an abusive guy away from his wife?”

Cassie’s brows
arched in mild frustration. Ever since their mid-afternoon return from the
museum, Clint seemed preoccupied with figuring out who was drugging Hope.

She welcomed the
quiet. Silver Hawk and her father were watching the children. Cassie felt like
her brain was fried and wasn’t sure she really wanted to use their alone time
playing detective.

And Clint was now
sleuthing in an area she hadn’t given much thought to, even though he’d
mentioned it earlier. It was simply too farfetched to expect to find such a
link. Nobody at the home was out to get her. At least, she hoped that was true.

“I certainly can’t
think of anyone with a grudge.”

“But it’s possible.”

“I suppose anything
is possible.” She frowned and stood. Beginning to pace, she offered, “I can’t
remember everyone I’ve crossed swords with in the last year or so.”

“If you don’t mind,
maybe we should drop by the group home. Staff may have heard something but not
made a connection or thought anything of it. Besides, I’d kind of like to see
where you hang your hat when you’re not training horses.”

Cassie paused her
pacing to stand before Clint. “Okay, I guess there’s nothing wrong with running
by there, but I don’t think we’re going to find out anything helpful. I still
don’t know how anyone would put Cassie O’Hanlon the social worker together with
Cassie O’Hanlon the horse trainer.”

With the flash of
an arm Clint grabbed her about the waist and plopped her down on his lap. Pulling
on a long tendril of auburn hair, he said with a laugh, “This hair might be the
first clue, my lady. You do stand out, you know.”

After studying her
for a long minute, he continued, “No, you don’t have that picture of yourself,
do you? Sometimes you boggle my mind. You seem to think you’re as drab as Madam
Librarian in the
Music Man
, while any red blooded male knows you are
much more striking, like Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman.”

“You!” Cassie
exclaimed, pummeling her admirer softly.

 He pulled her head
down and lightly touched his lips to hers.

“‘Tis a one track
mind you have, Mr. Travers,” she muttered, separating his lips with her tongue.
The kiss continued, long and mutual. Cassie loved the feel of his muscled
thighs, of his arousal rising against her bottom, of his lips, which tasted
equally safe and dangerous.

Breaking the kiss,
Clint groaned impatiently, “Enough sleuthing for one day. Do we have time?”

She laughed,
framing his chin between finger and thumb. “This is the first time we’ve been
alone since you brought the kids to Chicago. There’s time. We’ll make time. Silver
Hawk will keep the kids at the house. And Dad is probably having a blast
telling of some adventure that’s improved by the remembering and the retelling.”

Clint brushed the
back of his fingers across her warming cheek. “It has been so long. How shall
we begin?”

He took the lead by
running his tongue along her cheekbone and then nuzzling her nape.

“A nice start,” she
moaned, clasping her hands behind his back. “Ah, yes, it’s been far too long.”

His tongue eased
its way to her ear lobe. She scrunched her toes as Clint tenderly washed her
ear, inside and out. At the same time, she became aware of fingers working on
her blouse buttons. She helped unbutton the last two as his fingers traced a
line over the top of her bra cup. Her skin heated rapidly. In response, she
squirmed on his lap, purposefully rubbing her crotch along the expanding length
of his shaft. Even through several layers of clothing, she felt his cock
pulsing to meet her movements.

Clint groaned. “Hold
still,” he ordered. “You don’t want this to end before we’ve started, do you?”

Cassie laughed. Of
course not. Yet she enjoyed this power over him. But any semblance of control
was illusionary, for her bubbling heat reacted acutely to his teasing and his
adoration.

The bra gave way beneath
his practiced hands. He palmed each breast. Then he ducked to greet one with
his mouth. Cassie nearly corkscrewed off his lap. He held her tight, running
his tongue around the orb, ever so close but never quite touching its
thickening tip. She scrunched forward, trying to thrust more of her breast into
his mouth while grinding her pussy harder against his crotch, but Clint wouldn’t
yield.

In a war of wills,
she finally caved in, allowing him his love torture. Just when she could stand
no more, his tongue caressed a nipple. He pressed the aching flesh inward as if
it were a button. It might as well have been. She soared through a misty
universe seeking completion, embracing it under his adept guidance.

He waited for her
body to stop shaking. His muscles relaxed as hers stilled. He had no way of
knowing that her soul was vibrating at its very core. “My god, my god,” she
groaned, “why do I waste so much energy trying to resist you?”

Not knowing she’d
spoken aloud, Cassie was startled by his response. “Because you think too much.
At least when we make love, you allow yourself to feel.”

She hauled herself
off his lap even though she felt like she carried the weight of an anvil. “Don’t
let me think, then. Come on, lover. This bed has never had a man in it.”

- o -

 “Wait,” Clint
said, grabbing Cassie’s hand. “I want to finish undressing you.”

“That’s fine,” she
replied, standing before the bed and reaching for his belt, “and it looks like
you could use some help, too. Somebody appears to be trapped.”

Clint let her pull
his zipper down and shove his Levis over his hips. He kicked the pants aside
and her hands were inside his boxers, pulling them off and grabbing his cock at
the same time. She’d driven him nearly crazy before sliding back and forth on
his lap. Now she’d really entered the danger zone.

He grabbed her hand
to still her stroking. He kissed her nose. “You’re still ahead of me. Why don’t
you work on the shirt with both hands while I figure out what’s holding this
skirt together?

Chuckling, Cassie
said, “You might want to look for a side zipper and hook. That’s right. I’ll
see what I can do with this shirt. Men’s shirts always seem to button
backwards.”

Tugging her skirt
and panties down at the same time, Clint dispatched with them quickly. His chest
tightened as he cupped her bare pussy in the palm of one hand. He’d never grow
tired of that initial sensation of exuberance when he felt her inner heat
warming his palm. “You’re already sopping wet.”

“What did you
expect?” she murmured against his bare chest. “I’ve been looking forward to
this for days. If you want to determine my temperature, you might want to slip
a finger or two in.”

He didn’t need a
second invitation. Placing one hand on her butt to help steady her, he slid one
finger and then two into her wetness.

“Yes,” she mumbled.

“God, you’re on
fire down there.”

“More,” she moaned,
squirming against him.

With three fingers
in her, Cassie rose on her toes and began rocking against them.

He felt her entire
body tighten.

“Don’t make me do
this alone,” she grunted, grinding against his fingers. “Finger-fuck me. Deep.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Clint
flexed his fingers deep, drew back and sank them deeper.

“Yes.” Cassie
wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. “Do me. Hurry. I need to come. Make
me come, Clint. Make me come.”

Curling his
fingers, Clint found her internal button. Within seconds, she crashed against him.
He only waited for her breathing to settle slightly before withdrawing his
fingers.

Her eyelids
fluttered open as if to protest.

He lifted her
easily. While she clung to his shoulders, he maneuvered her hips until his stiff
cock found her opening.

“Yes,” she moaned.

With a single
thrust, Clint entered her to the hilt. “Jesus,” he groaned. “So hot.”

“So big. You fill
me so good.”

“Keep your arms
around me tight and your legs loose. That’s right.” Cupping an ass cheek in
each hand, Clint began to slide her back and forth along the full length of his
cock.

“Oh, wow.” Cassie
shuddered and giggled. “I’m your push-me pull-me toy. You feel so good.”

“Me? I’ve missed
this. I’ve missed you.” Clint kissed the top of her head and slowed his
movements. “Perhaps we should take this to the bed. No, don’t move—let me.”

Carefully he
waddled the few feet to the bed. She wasn’t helping any by sinking her teeth
into his shoulder.

“My he-man,” she
said, wiggling her frame against his.

He settled her butt
on the bed without breaking their connection and resumed sliding in and out of
her.

She raised her legs
high in the air. “Welcome home. Give him to me, I want all of him.”

“Christ, woman, you
turn me on like no other.” Clint arched his back as Cassie raked her
fingernails up and down his spine.

“Don’t wait. Don’t
hold back. Ride me like you would a runaway mare.”

Heeding her advice,
Clint began rocking back and forth. He swore her inner temperature rose a
hundred degrees. Smiling as her green eyes rounded wide, loving what they
reflected, he whispered, “It’s good to be home. I don’t want to ever leave.”

His voice choked. Shaking
his head, ridding himself of a sudden wave of melancholy, he moved deeper into
the woman he loved with every ounce of passion he could marshal.

She caressed his
cheek, then fell back against the pillows and closed her eyes. He resolutely
probed her internal volcano. Her inner muscles tightened. He gathered speed. She
matched his pace, bucking up to meet him thrust for thrust. “Soon. Soon. Soon,”
she cried out. “Don’t hold back. Fill me.”

Clint moved beyond
thinking, beyond remembering. He hurtled onward like a wayward tornado. After
all the teasing, after all the foreplay, after all the days of waiting, he
sensed his surge cresting, threatening to explode the circuits of his brain. He
came in waves and then in spurts.

She raised her hips,
accepting, demanding. “Give it all to me. Don’t leave anything.”

Her words were like
spurs urging him on and on. His body had no mind, only this endless drive for
completion. Each time he thought he was finished, his hips drove forward again,
giving her more than he thought he had. He quaked, flexing his hips long after
motion was necessary. Out of breath, out of energy, he collapsed, covering her.
His tears graced her breasts. Her arms and legs folded around him, holding him
in place.

- o -

Fully dressed,
Cassie sat on the bed next to a sleeping Clint, dragging a hawk feather slowly
across his chin and down his chest.

Clint opened his
eyes and snickered. His hand snaked out quickly and captured the feather,
keeping her from moving it any lower. “No need getting me riled up again. By
the looks of you, it must be about time to head up to the house.”

Making a long face,
Cassie replied, “I’d rather stay here and play in our little bordello, but,” she
added lightly, “there are other responsibilities.”

“Guess you’re
right.” Clint paused. “What we just shared…incredible.”

“I know.” Cassie
didn’t like the catch in her voice. She wasn’t ready to elaborate on how
incredible their lovemaking had been for her—or how it had opened her heart. Would
she ever be the same? Were there other worlds yet to be explored? She’d soared
so high and so far, maybe she’d seen them all. And then she’d been relentless,
pushing Clint over the edge, beyond
his
comfort zone. He’d been so deep.
She could still feel him pulsing in her depths. She hugged herself, thankful
she was on the pill. “I’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, not even by you.”

He shook his head. “I’ve
never had a woman take me to that place before. I didn’t know if you were ever
going to let me stop. And that was more than a thorough fucking.”

“For both of us. I’m
glad. I hope you are, too.”

Pulling the sheet
up over his body, Clint sighed. “I don’t know what the tears were about. I’m
not that type. I only remember tears on three other occasions. When my dad
died. When my wife died. And when I was able to save the life of a young colt
that the vet had given up on. No one ever saw me cry...before now.”

Cassie sat on the
edge of the bed and traced a finger across the sheet covering his chest. “That
makes it even more special. I’ve been crying a lot more lately, myself.”