Cassie's Hope (Riders Up) (30 page)

Clint felt faint. He’d
never exchanged such ugly words with his sister. They’d had moments of
disagreement, but nothing like this. Was she right? Had he been running away so
hard and fast that he ignored the needs of his own kids?

Before the children’s
bedtime, Clint sat in the middle of the couch in his family room with Lester on
his left and Sammy on his right. Silver Hawk’s plea rang in his head like an
incessant car alarm. Sharp pain resided behind his right eye. His palms were
sweaty, reminding him of his childhood when he’d had to tell his father he had
to stay after at school or had failed to make the honor roll.

He tried to stay
focused. The words on the book open on his lap blurred. Wasn’t he supposed to
be reading to his children? They had been peering at the colorful pictures as
he read
Alexander And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
And
then he had stopped reading. Words and sounds escaped him. Somewhere deep in
the recesses of his mind he was aware that this was not going well at all.

Lester examined his
father with concern. “What’s wrong, Dad? You sort of look like Alexander.”

Pulling on her
father’s shirt sleeve, Sammy asked, “Are you going to read more?” She checked
the picture again. “That’s not the end, Daddy.”

“No, that’s not the
end,” Clint acknowledged, relieved at finding his voice. Laying the book on the
coffee table, he placed an arm around each of his children. “You know, you two
are more precious than anything to me.”

“Even gold!”
exclaimed Sammy wide-eyed.

“Yes, even gold.” He
chuckled. “And I owe each of you an apology.”

Both children sat
perfectly still, eyeing their father closely. Even they knew apology meant
saying
I’m sorry,
and that was a very difficult thing to do.

“It’s about Cassie,”
he volunteered.

Lester let out a
breath and nodded knowingly.

Sammy whispered, “Oh.”
She tucked her feet under her so she could sit on them.

“Look,” Clint said,
breathing hard, “I was very upset that day I sent you home from Chicago. Cassie
and I had a big fight.”

Sammy leaned away
from him and pursed her lips. “Like when Tommy pulls my braids,” she
interrupted, “and I smack him over the head with my book bag?”

“Well, sort of.” Clint
swallowed and tried to continue. “Looking back on it, I should have had your
aunt take you by the farm so you could’ve said goodbye to Ms. O’Hanlon.”

Agreeing, Lester
offered, “That would have helped some.”

“I didn’t want to
say goodbye,” Sammy cried, her lower lip trembling. “I didn’t want to go.”

As he lifted his
daughter onto his lap, Clint’s voice cracked. “Look, little one, I don’t know
how to explain this to you any better. I thought I loved Cassie, but it turns
out she didn’t love me. So I can’t put a band-aid on the hurt and make it go
away. It just hurts…for you, for me, for all of us.

“For Cassie, too?”

Clint frowned his
exasperation. “I don’t know about that.”

“Can we go back and
find out?” Sammy asked, her small voice rising with hope.

“No, we won’t be
doing that.”

Lester crossed his
arms and pouted. “I think we should be allowed to visit Cassie. It’s only fair.
Divorced kids do that.”

Groaning loudly,
his father complained, “How did I ever raise you two to be so independent?”

Giving him a toothy
smile, Lester said, “Because you love us so much.”

Clint nodded,
trying to see through watery eyes.

“Daddy, I think you
made a huge ‘stake,” Sammy whined, moving to kneel on the couch to eye at her
father directly. Her eyes snapped with a mixture of emotions that Clint did not
want to decipher. “Cassie loves all of us. I know she does.”

His shoulders
slumped. He’d made little progress in making peace with his children. But all
was not lost. He still was the parent.

“It’s time for
pee-jays,” he announced gruffly.

“Already?” Lester
hooted.

“It’s past bedtime.”

As his kids
scampered off to get ready for bed, Clint wondered if they would ever
understand what happened in Chicago. Would he ever understand himself?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The morning was
bright and crisp as Cassie made her way by the junk strewn lot toward the group
home. September was half gone; but what a turning point month it had already
been. Her spirits were up. She walked slowly, unsure how her decision would be
received inside the house.

She found Raul in
his usual place: ensconced in his office, half hidden behind stacks of paper,
scribbling feverishly on a yellow pad.

Dotting a sentence
firmly, Raul looked up to see Cassie standing in the doorway. “Welcome
stranger. You look worried.”

Cassie couldn’t
decide whether to sit or remain standing.

“So, you’ve decided
not to come back,” Raul said, leaning back in his chair, clasping his hands
behind his head.

“How did you know?”
Cassie sat across from him, feeling like a stray cat.

“At times your face
is a newspaper, Cass. Don’t worry about it. We’ll miss you, but we’ll be fine. None
of us are indispensable.”

Taking a couple
breaths, Cassie struggled to explain. Raul was her friend, and she wanted him
to understand. “I’m not sure I can adequately explain it. But it’s something I
have to do. The horses are in my blood in ways I never realized before.”

“That’s not
surprising. You were raised with them. You were probably at a race track before
you could crawl.”

“No doubt about
that. I hate leaving you in the lurch, though.”

“We’ve had six
months to prepare. When you were here with the Utahan, I expected this
decision. Is he part of it?”

“Hardly.” Cassie
rubbed her temples gently, fighting a headache. “He’s out of the picture
entirely.”

“I’m sorry. I
rather liked the man. So that really makes this a pure horse decision, right?”

“Yep.” Cassie gave
Raul a half smile. “I’m not leaving you for another man. I just need to be with
the horses, at least for now.”

“There’ll be other
men, if you’ll allow them in your life. And haven’t I always said you’ll do
social work wherever you are? We may leave one job for another, but we don’t
leave the doing of social work.”

“You’re a real gem,
Raul.” Cassie stood and beamed with much relief. “It’s been great working with
you. I guess I’d better find Daisy and let her know what’s happening.”

“Don’t worry too
much about the girl. She’ll bounce back okay. She’s come a long way in the last
couple of weeks.”

Cassie hesitated. “I’d
like to stay in contact with her, if you think that would be all right.”

“All right! I think
that’s fantastic. She can use every friend she can get.” Raul rushed around the
desk to hug his former employee.

She clung to him,
hoping she’d made the right decision. She knew it was, but she’d still miss
this man.

Raul stepped back
and said quietly, “You know, you’d make a hell of a foster-mom, Cassie.”

“Are you a mind
reader, or what?” Cassie took a deep breath. “It’s possible. I don’t want to
say anything like that to Daisy. She’s had too many hopes that haven’t turned
out. But I’m seriously considering it.”

“You know you have
my support, whatever you decide.”

Cassie found Daisy
sitting on the steps leading from the first floor to the second.

“I heard you were
here,” the girl said tentatively. “You’re not coming back, are you?”

Hurriedly, Cassie
took the gangly girl into her arms. Sobbing, matching the sobs of Daisy, Cassie
muttered, “How come everyone knows what I’m doing today before I can tell them?”

“It just shows,”
Daisy whispered. “I’m going to miss you terribly.” Her body shuddered.

“Maybe not,” said
Cassie, sitting on the floor by the teenager. “My not working here may actually
mean we can spend more time together, if you want.”

“Really!”

Cassie quickly held
up a hand, not wanting Daisy to over interpret what she intended. “I thought
you might like to come out to the farm now and then. And maybe to shedrow.”

She was heartened
to see the girl’s eyes round in surprise. “If you get along well with the
horses, we could maybe find you something to do out there, like being a
part-time assistant groom. I’d pay you for your work, of course.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t
have to pay me,” Daisy squealed, bouncing up and down. “I’d work for free. Does
that mean I could stay overnight sometimes?”

“Absolutely.”

Daisy glanced away
shyly and then turned back with a tiny smile and tears streaming down her
cheeks. “I think I may be happier with you not working here.”

September had been
a month packed with excitement, Cassie wrote in her journal at the beginning of
October. She was a full time horse trainer. She loved the look of those words
on her journal page.

More than that, she
and her dad were going to expand their broodmare operation. Leaving social work
had been a gigantic step, but she felt good about it. She expected Daisy to be
with her at least a couple weekends a month. Soon, she’d have to decide about
taking Daisy on as foster child. The state wouldn’t continue supporting her
stay at the group home much longer.

Cassie smiled at
her entry. Who was she kidding? That decision was already made. She should
start the paper work and get on with it.

To mark this major
new life change, Cassie had changed her appearance dramatically. She’d decided
that all that long hair just got in the way, whether in the barn, in the round
pen, or at the track. After much deliberation, she’d had her hair shaped in a
bob, leaving her neck bare.

Glancing at the
mirror as she wrote, she remained quite pleased with that decision, too. Shorter
hair seemed to make her appear taller, perhaps even more sophisticated. At
minimum, the hair style gave her a fresh look for a new direction. And it was
definitely a brand new day.

As she reached up
to play with it momentarily, her hand stalled. She wondered how it would feel
for a man to do that. Her exposed neck was extremely sensitive to touch. Cassie
shivered, allowing herself to pleasantly ponder fingers other than hers grazing
that smooth skin.

During September,
she’d also received a note printed in bold letters from Sammy congratulating
her on Hope’s victory. The little girl’s words had wrenched Cassie’s heart in a
dozen different ways. She’d written back thanking her young friend for the
letter, asking her about school, but making no promises.

Laying her pen
aside, Cassie reread her journal for the month. It surely had been a decisive
time. She did feel good about those decisions and about how her life was taking
shape. But something was missing. She knew that without question.

She grimaced at the
mirror, wondering what Clint would think of her recent life choices. He’d
probably not look at her twice with short hair.

So be it. She didn’t
wear her hair a certain way for any man. Had she cut it to celebrate her new
career, or had she done it to spite him?

No matter, it was
done. A woman had every right to determine how she wanted to look. Pressing her
lips in a mock kiss at the mirror, she mumbled, “And I do like the new me.”

Still, she wondered
if he would.

Cassie returned
from the track the next morning around eleven to find her father sitting at the
kitchen table with several books and papers strewn across its surface.

With a twinkle in
his eyes, Tug greeted his daughter, “Hi Cass, thought you’d never get here. Sit
down. Got somethin’ to show you.”

After pouring a cup
of steaming coffee, Cassie warily pulled out a chair and sat down. She’d seen
that shrewd furtive look on his face many times before. “Now what are you up
to? Haven’t you done about enough scheming and planning for a year?”

“Hardly,” the old
man said, leaning back in his chair. “There’s still almost a quarter of a year
left. And we’re just now comin’ into that dreamin’ season for horse folks.”

Nodding, Cassie
knew what he was referring to. No matter how disappointing the prior season may
have been, many trainers and owners spent the winter months plotting and
dreaming for the coming year.

“I want you to go
to the Barretts Fall Sale in California to buy us some quality horses.” Her
father smiled, his wire rimmed reading glasses sliding down his nose.

“California!”
Cassie gasped. “Why there? I thought you didn’t want to go out and buy
contenders. I’ve got horses to race here. That could take weeks.” Her
reservations and objections tumbled out of her mouth.

“Whoa there, young
lady,” her dad responded with a bemused look. Forming a tent with his fingers,
he continued, “Why California? Because they have breedin’ lines that we don’t
see much of here in the mid-west. I’ve been studyin’ the Barretts catalogue now
for three weeks.
After
you decided to work with horses full-time, by the
way.”

“I’m not talkin’
about buyin’ two year olds in trainin’ who are ready to go to the track. I want
us to buy a couple broodmares and a couple yearlings. I’d like you to go over
the hip numbers I’ve tagged as possibles.” Tug offered her the sales catalogue.

Blowing bangs off
her forehead, Cassie said, “And you think this is more important than staying
to race the string we have currently consigned to us.”

“Cass, you need to
be involved with contenders like Hope. I don’t see any horse in our current
crop who’s gonna come near that level over the next couple years. We—you—need
to plan for the future. This makes good horse sense, to bring some new blood
into our breeding line.”

Cassie nodded. Her
dad had always wanted to be a breeder first and trainer second. Now, he had
that chance.

“Okay,” Tug said, “I
want to get into the Pulpit line; his offspring show a lot of stamina and are
bred for distance. There are four broodmares in the sale that are daughters or
granddaughters of his. If you agree, I want you to go after the two you think
are best conformed. You have as good an eye for a horse as I do, girl. Don’t
hold back on dollars. We’re not gonna go all that way and get skunked.”

“No, I don’t
suppose so.”

“Then there are
eight yearlings carrying that same bloodline. You pick the best male of the
group and the second best yearling, male or female.”

“I’ve done a lot of
talkin’. What do you think?” Her dad leaned back and eyed her.

Arching her
eyebrows, Cassie grimaced. “It looks like you’ve got it pretty well decided.”

“That’s not at all
true,” Tug disagreed, “and you know it.” The old man chuckled. “You just don’t
like to think I can get by without you that long. We need your on-site
expertise at the sale to make the best possible selections. And I want you to
go over this catalogue with as much care as I have. Read up on the Pulpit line.
Do your own research.”

“I’m not second
guessing what you want to do. Truth be known, I’m pleased with the confidence
you’re placing in me. We’re no doubt talking about a fair amount of money here.”
Cassie tried to duck away from his intense, hopeful stare. “It’s just that I’m
not sure I want to be away from you and the horses—from here—for that long. This
will take the better part of a month.”

“Nonsense. Hell,
girl. You don’t have to drive all that way. We’ll fly you out. We can afford to
ship the horses back.”

With her cheeks
warming swiftly, Cassie went on the offensive to keep her father from cornering
her. “How come you’ve all of a sudden become enamored with California horses? Have
you been talking to Travers?”

Tug O’Hanlon
coughed loudly. “Well, of course, while he was here we talked a lot about
breedin’ lines and about horses I hadn’t heard much about, me being here in the
middle of the country. He did tell me about the Barretts Fall Sale. That’s it.”

Tug filled their
coffee cups. “You know, kid, I don’t know if he’ll be at the sale, but if you
stay active in the thoroughbred world at the level you want to, then you’ll run
into him at some point. You might as well prepare for it.”

Squaring her shoulders,
rising to the bait, Cassie snorted, “If it happens, I can handle it. Clint
Travers is not going to make me be a captive of Chicago. Horses are my business,
and I go wherever that business takes me.”

“That’s my girl,”
Tug chuckled. “‘An O’Hanlon ain’t afraid of nothin.”

- o -

Sitting in his
truck in front of his grandmother’s house, Clint rested his throbbing head on
the steering wheel. Where had he made the wrong turn? Wherever he turned, no
matter how busy he stayed, no matter how much he drank, he could not escape the
woman his family called Fire Woman. Was it about honor? Was it about pride? Was
it about something deeper than all of that? He no longer knew what to do. He
was stuck. He was lost.

The days had
dragged by. His sister gave him little slack. The kids were doing well in
school, but at home they failed to have that spark that was so uniquely theirs.
They seldom asked him to join in their play.