Cassie's Hope (Riders Up) (27 page)

“You,” Cassie
accused, her facial features tightening in horror. “You made sure those horses
wouldn’t win. You, his best friend.”

“Who better to do
it, from the mob’s point of view? It was easy,” Louie acknowledged, casting a
lopsided grin. “Your dad seldom had a big winner here in the Chicago area
anyway. They didn’t take his job away from him; they just made sure he’d never
reach his dream.”

“How cruel.”

“Maybe.”

“Now what?” Cassie
asked, looking at Clint.

“We’ve got some
options, I suppose,” Clint began, moving to turn off the humming VCR. “We could
turn him over to the police. We could take what we have to the track stewards. Louie
would certainly be banned from tracks for life. The question mark in all of
this is the mob. Will they simply replace Louie? And will they pass the curse
from father to daughter? I think for the moment we ought to sit tight. Louie’s
situation is precarious enough I doubt he’s going to want to attract mob
attention at the moment.”

The door to the
small room opened and closed behind a slight older woman with graying auburn
hair. “You’ve taken the fall long enough, Louie.” She walked toward the man
sitting stiffly in his chair. “That was quite a concoction about the mob. Almost
began to believe it myself.”

She directed her
attention to Cassie and Clint. “You two are good. You may think it strange that
that pleases me. But I’ve sought revenge against your father all these years. I
can’t say it’s been thrilling—but I’ve never harbored ill feelings against you,
Cassidy.”

Cassie’s eyes
bulged. Her heart stopped.
Don’t faint. Hold on.

The woman laughed
thinly. “You look like you’re seeing a ghost. Maybe you are. Can’t blame you. It’s
not like I’ve been around much. Oh, I’ve watched you from a distance zillions
of times, but you never saw me. Or when you did, you never made the connection.
Yes, I am your mother.”

“Jesus,” Clint
muttered.

“Why?” Cassie
managed to say in a squeaky voice.

“Why? I imagine
that’s a lot of questions. Until yesterday, I guess I’d never forgiven your
father for taking you from me.”

“He didn’t take me.
You left!”

Cassie’s mother
nodded. “True. But I had no choice. I learned too late that I couldn’t bounce
around following him from track to track. And the farm became my prison, with
your aunt as my jailor. It was unbearable.

“I couldn’t afford
to take you with me—you’ll never know the countless times I regretted not doing
so. But your aunt, for all her ill feelings toward me, was a good mother to you—probably
better than I’d ever have been.”

“But you’re my
mother. How could you?”

“I’m not going to
spend a lot time defending my actions, and there’s a lot I’m never going to
tell you I wish I’d done some things different. I should have come forward much
earlier and maybe carved out some space for me in your life. But I didn’t. I
can’t rewrite history.”

“So,” she said
directing her attention to Clint, “What do you plan to do about me and Louie?”

“That’s up to
Cassie,” Clint said. “But I’m curious why now. Why did you come forward now? Louie
was covering for you. Clearly you’ve earned his loyalty over the years.”

“Louie didn’t
deserve carrying this burden alone. I take full responsibility for his actions,
as well as my own. Maybe I’m just tired of being bitter. After awhile it
becomes a cancer. Then—then I saw your father in the stands. In the wheelchair.
He’s a broken man. I don’t want any more part of it. “

“It sounded like
more than that.”

“You listen well,
young man. I watched you and Cassidy and your two young ones at the museum and
in the park. You were all so excited and babbling you never noticed an old
woman walking by or standing by a tree looking for birds.

“It broke my heart
again. To realize what I’d missed by running away so many years ago. I gathered
from Louie that my daughter questions her own ability to be a mother.”

 She turned her
gaze to Cassie. “I’m not expecting your forgiveness, Cassidy. I won’t even ask
for it. I’m not expecting to saunter back into your life. But I do want to make
one thing very clear. Yes, you are my daughter. My blood flows through you. But
you are not like me. I’ve seen you with your kids outside the group home. I’ve
seen you with Mr. Travers’ kids. No, you’re not like me.

“You’re stronger,
much more confident. You’re much more comfortable being with children. When
they hug you, you hug them back—you don’t worry about crushing them or being
crushed by them. You’re more playful than I could ever be—guess you get that
from Tug. I do like to think you got some things from me. Your beauty, even
your temper. I urge you not to make the mistakes I made. Risk being in love. Risk
being a mother.

“I’ve said enough. You’ve
been very quiet, Cassidy. What do you want to do with Louie and me?”

Cassie shook her
head. How could she think straight? Her mother? Good god, her mother had been
behind so much disappointment, so many tears. Did she really have any idea?

“We won’t
prosecute,” she said, looking at Clint.

He nodded.

“I’ll take you at
your word that it’s over. At this point, I’m not inclined to explain it all to Dad.
This could prompt another stroke. We’ll figure out something to tell him.” Cassie
stared at her mother through teary eyes. “I don’t know what else to say. Or
what you want.”

“That’s fine,” her
mother said. “This has to be a huge shock. I do appreciate not having to talk
with the police.”

She nodded at
Clint. “If there’s nothing else, I guess it’s time for me to make another exit.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I do wish you happiness, Cassidy. I always
have. Come on, Louie. Let’s leave now.”

Louie Picard walked
ahead of Cassie’s mother and opened the door. They both walked out. Louie
closed the door softly behind them.

The shaking started
as soon as she heard the soft click of the door latch. She couldn’t stop
shaking. She couldn’t even slow the trembles. Cassie allowed Clint to gather
her in his arms. She shook and cried for a very long time. He combed her hair
with his fingers.

At last Cassie
began to relax. She stepped out of his arms, walked over to the VCR, and
removed the tape. Doing something, anything, helped.

She turned to face
Clint. “This is going to take awhile to sort out.”

“I can imagine,”
Clint said. “I’ll return the VCR to the office and be on my way.”

Could this day get
any worse? She didn’t have enough energy to deal with her mother’s betrayal,
and now she had Clint staring her down as if she were some alien. “So that’s
it.”

“That’s it.” Clint’s
voice was gruff. “I’ve got responsibilities waiting in Utah.”

Cassie nodded,
turned, and slowly made her way to the doorway through which her mother had
just exited.

A week later, with
her morning chores finished, Cassie sat alone on the porch steps. It was like
her roller coaster ride had bottomed out and stayed there—stuck. Her mother,
again. And Louie Picard had betrayed a childhood trust. Clint Travers had
chewed her up and spat her out like unwanted fat. Even her dad seemed to hold
her more responsible for that ill-fated relationship than he did Clint.

Her father missed
the Utahan. So what? She fumed. He could pick up the phone and call the man, if
he wanted to. She wasn’t about to do that.

The soul wrenching
sound of a mourning dove shattered her awareness. Unwanted tears yielded to the
bird’s call. Was the bird wailing over the loss of a mate?

Cassie hugged
herself. She had to get on top of things. She needed a plan. “Stop analyzing. Start
living,” she muttered, tossing a pebble across the yard.

That evening she
would meet her friends for dinner. It could be a dicey get-together. Susan
would cheer. Now she’d be able to fix her up with an appropriate cosmopolitan
man. Traci knew the story and no doubt would continue being supportive. Ashton
wouldn’t ask many questions. She’d listen. Cassie felt guilty for having
avoided the woman who had admired the man from Utah. No doubt, Ashton would
find a private opportunity to grill her about the breakup.

But before all of
that, before dinner, on her way to the restaurant, she would stop at an
exquisite little bath and oils store on the near North Side and pick up some of
the most expensive items they had. Tonight she would pamper herself with the
best bubble bath ever imagined.

And then. The Land
of Lincoln was rapidly approaching. One more week and it would be over…one way
or the other. Cassie trusted the next week would be better in some ways. She
would be so busy and so focused on the race she wouldn’t have time to think
about betrayal.

As she rose to
enter the house, she paused, realizing her plan had said nothing about social
work. She was due back at work in only a matter of weeks. She grimaced—her
grand plan extended to all of one week.

Chuckling, she said
aloud, “Better than one day at a time.” How often had she advised folks to take
it one day or one step at a time? Well, tonight would be the first step and
then the next week would be a gigantic leap. She could not see further down the
path. And that had to be okay, at least for the moment.

Thankfully the
restaurant lighting was dim. Some might find the soft light romantic; Cassie
found it protective, like a hazy fog. Maybe the puffiness around her eyes would
be less visible. She’d waited until after the entrees arrived to make her
announcement. She appreciated that Traci had made no attempt to pre-empt her,
but then Traci was a lawyer and seemed to know how to wait and bide her time.

Determined not to break
down, Cassie sat up straight, clasped her hands at her waist, and spoke slowly.
“It’s over. Clint and the kids are back in Utah. It was a summer fling after
all.”

She tried to ignore
the shock on Susan’s face and the immediate concern on Ashton’s.

“Is this the reason
for the message on my machine telling me not to bother to come and see Hope
race last Saturday?” Ashton asked. “These last few days have been so filled
with crises at work, I haven’t even had time to follow up.”

“It wouldn’t have
been much fun. Mr. Travers was hell bent for leather protecting his honor.” She
gulped. “Dad let it out that a trainer friend at the track suggested to me that
Clint might be the culprit drugging Hope. Clint went berserk—he never let me
explain that I didn’t believe the man. He sent the kids back home immediately
without letting me say goodbye and then he almost accused me of drugging my own
horse.”

“Oh,” Susan gasped,
“my goodness.”

“Yeah, well, he can
sit on his damn high desert ranch and dry up like a prune, as far as I care.”

“Did you catch the
fellow causing all the problems for your horse?” Traci asked.

Cassie flinched and
looked away. “Yeah. It was my mother and one of Dad’s oldest friends. She didn’t
want him to reach his dreams because he had thwarted hers. Can you believe it?”

“Your mother!” Ashton
exclaimed. “You’ve got to be dying inside.”

Cassie shrugged. “Apparently,
she’s been around more than I ever knew. Graduations. Outside the group home. She
saw me and Clint and the kids at the museum. That might have played into her
coming forward once we were onto Louie. Pretty weird, huh. But that’s how it
is.”

“Boy,” Susan said, “that
gives new meaning to being wary of a woman who thinks she’s been wronged.”

“So,” Traci asked, “what
are you going to do about them—your mother and your dad’s old friend? They did
commit several crimes, apparently over many years.”

“Nothing. They won’t
try anything again. We didn’t tell Dad that my mother was behind it. That
seemed more than he needed to bear. He accepted a story that Louie told us
about mob involvement.

Cassie picked up a
fork, only to place it back down on the table. “Funny, I always wondered what
happened to my mother, what she looked like, what she might think of me now. She
stood there so cool, almost serene. She said something about bitterness being a
cancer.” Cassie shook her head. “I refuse to let bitterness eat at me—whether
it’s about my mother, or about Clint, or about anything else. It’s not worth
it.”

Traci skimmed
fingers over Cassie’s hand. “Maybe your mother helped you after all.”

Cassie winced. “Maybe
she did.”

“Well, doesn’t that
beat all,” Ashton declared. “No wonder you weren’t able to get Hope to perform
at her ability. So you got your horse back, but you’ve lost the man.”

Cassie reached for
her glass of water, nodded and remained quiet. No words could express her sense
of desolation.

“I’ve got a cousin
I’d like you to meet, Cass,” Susan said, with a huge warm smile. “He’s into art
and theater. Jason is in corporate sales. He has a big office in the Loop.”

Cassie started
shaking her head before her friend even finished speaking. “No, not now. I’m
too busy,” she responded demurely. That was all she needed—another male to
contend with. No way. Now was not the time. Maybe never.