Heart's Haven (7 page)

“You could ask him tomorrow. Jack and I are going to his church. We could give you a ride.”

Cassidy shook her head. “No. Thanks. I don’t do church.”

“Okay.” He shuffled from one foot to the other, shadowed eyes watchful. “Well, at least you can sleep in a little later tomorrow morning. Good night.”

“Good night.” She closed the door behind him, drew in a deep breath to modulate her racing heart. Without saying a word, Tyson St. John could make her feel like she was sixteen and about to get her first kiss.

She glanced at the rendering on the wall, felt the squeeze of determination grip her insides.

But he couldn’t get her to talk about her dream. Not until she was ready.

Not until there was no possibility that he or anyone else could ruin it.

B
y eleven on Monday morning Cassidy and Irina had almost finished preparations for the first seniors’ lunch at the Haven.

“The sandwiches are ready. Now we can focus on supper.”

“You will continue to serve evening meals?”

“Six nights a week is my goal.”

“But you have no day off. It is pushing too hard.”

“I take Sundays off. Soup and sandwiches with a doughnut for tonight won’t kill me, Irina. Besides, after Saturday’s success, I want to keep up the momentum.”

“I am game.” Irina grinned.

“Good. Now watch carefully because the doughnuts will brown very quickly. Flip them over once. As soon as they’re finished, scoop them out and let them drain. But don’t spatter yourself and don’t rush. Okay?”

“Yes.” Irina nodded.

A quick learner, Irina was soon frying doughnuts as if she were in a production line. Almost finished, she yelped as hot oil spattered her hand.

“Let the water cool it,” Cassidy advised, turning the tap on. The injury was slight, but she fished out the last two doughnuts herself.

“I wasted a lot of time for you.” Irina patted her hand dry.

“No. Anyway, your being okay is more important. We’ll glaze them in a few minutes, and then all we have left are vegetables to chop for tonight’s soup.” She saw the other woman waver and knew Irina stood upright only through force of will. “Let’s take a break.”

“But the luncheon?”

“Is ready. Come on. Relax for a minute.”

Cassidy set some of the sandwiches on a plate and poured coffee, but it wasn’t until they were seated and Irina held the bread to her lips that Cassidy noticed her shaking hand. Irina caught her stare and quickly thrust her free hand under her thigh, keeping her eyes downcast.

“What’s wrong, Irina? You’re shaking.”

“I will get stronger,” she reassured, as if afraid she’d be fired.

“You’re doing fine. But I don’t think you’re worried about work. It’s something else. Couldn’t you tell me? I’d like to help.”

Irina said nothing for a long time, but a tear crept out from under her lowered lid, then another until she was openly weeping. Feeling helpless, but guessing the woman needed this physical release, Cassidy waited.

“I’m sorry.” Irina dabbed her eyes. “I will get back to work now.”

They went through the same routine every morning for the next two weeks, and every time, Cassidy encouraged, hoped, waited. When nothing happened, she finally sought out Ty for advice.

“You can’t make people get help, Cassidy. It usually takes something big to make most people act.” He accepted the coffee she’d brought, his blue eyes soft with sympathy. “It must be doubly hard for Irina.”

“Why? Most days when she arrives, it’s clear she’s in pain. But I don’t think she’s had a drink since she started.” Cassidy couldn’t comprehend an otherwise strong woman’s refusal to free herself and her children from such a situation.

Secretly Cassidy constantly compared Irina with her mother, recalled the many nights in bed listening to the arguments between her parents and often, the sounds of violence. Yet the next morning, her mom had always acted as if everything was fine.

“It’s as if Irina’s waiting for things to get better.”

“No doubt she is.” He dragged a hand through his freshly trimmed hair, leaned back in his chair, his gaze pensive. One finger tapped the desktop. “I’m sure she came to this country full of hopes. Her husband probably did, too. But things haven’t worked out the way either of them wanted.”

“So he terrorizes his family?” Cassidy knew too much about this part. “Maybe somebody should take a couple of rounds out of him.”

“Like you?” Ty teased. One glance at her face and his chair dropped to all fours. His cup hit his desk, spraying coffee droplets over his arm. His face tightened. “Don’t even think about it, Cassidy.”

“I don’t have a death wish. But Irina’s wound so tight, I’m afraid she’ll crack. She needs to talk to somebody.” An idea flickered to life. “Could you?”

Ty’s face blanched and the self-assured man vanished. His fingers stopped tapping, pressed tight against the desk surface. His eyes darkened to navy.

Cassidy felt his fear as if it were a tangible object in the room.

“Me?”

“That is what you do—talk to people. Counsel them. Isn’t it?”

“I did. Once.” Tiny lines fanned out around his pinched lips. “But—”

“Just a conversation.”

“I don’t think I could—”

“Please, Ty? Irina’s hurting and she needs someone to talk to. Isn’t that why the Haven is here? To help?”

Cassidy watched him wage some internal battle. Finally he inclined his head, once.

“All right. But I won’t push and I won’t tell you what we discuss.”

“Of course not.” She was offended that he thought he had to say it. “When?”

“I’ll ask her to fill out some papers tomorrow morning.”

“Great.”

From his grim countenance, Ty didn’t think so. Maybe it had something to do with the argument she’d overheard last night between him and Jack.

“Is everything all right, Ty?”

He’d been shuffling through some papers but his hands stilled at her words, his head lifted. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” She pretended to peer out the window. “I didn’t see Jack around yesterday.”

“He and Red had ‘things to do.’” Exasperation was clear in his tone.

“She’s not a bad girl, you know.” She ignored his laugh. “I think she’ll come around when she starts seeing changes happen in the community.”

“From your lips to God’s ear.”

He was brooding. Cassidy couldn’t stand there doing nothing.

“Get up.”

“Huh?” He glared at her. “I can’t go anywhere. I’ve got tons to do.”

“Don’t we all? Get up.” She tapped her foot on the floor, waiting for him to rise. “Lose the tie, Ty.”

“Hah.” His fingers went to the perfect knot, fingered it while he studied her in that scholarly but perplexed way that said he was trying to figure her out.

“Undo it. Come on, counselor. Dinner’s almost ready but I’ve got coleslaw to make so get rid of that tie.”

“What is this about?” He loosened the tie, drew it off and laid it on his desk.

“Winter doldrums, I think. Let’s go.” He didn’t move quickly enough so Cassidy looped her arm through his and drew him along with her toward the gym. She opened the door, flicked on the lights and pushed him inside.

“You cannot have this room for a kitchen,” he said, but a faint light now glowed in the indigo irises.

“You’ve been taking funny lessons from Davis.” She grabbed a basketball, dribbled it to the back of the gym and took a shot. “That’s one for me.”

“One what?”

“Point. Loser owes the winner a favor. Best out of ten.” She set up, then netted the ball perfectly. “Two for me. Get ready to pay up, director.”

In an instant the ball was lifted from her fingers. He tossed a rim shot, rested his hands on his hips in a cocky stance and waited for the ball to sink.

“You should have told me the rules first, chef. Don’t you know cheaters never win?”

Never one to give up without a fight, Cassidy dug in her heels and hung on for the toughest game of one-on-one she’d ever played. And lost.

“So let me get this straight. I won. Therefore you owe me a favor. Wasn’t that how you described this game?” Ty’s smirk ruined the attempted solemn look.

“Arrogance is not one of your better features. Have I mentioned that?”

Truthfully Cassidy couldn’t find a thing wrong with his features. His flushed face shone with pleasure, his mouth quirked up in that mocking grin he often used and his body stance was assured, confident—nothing like he’d looked earlier.

Her arm still tingled where he’d pushed it away while reaching for the ball. She got caught up staring into his eyes. Her breathing suspended.

For once no inner voice warned her about trust.

“What’s going on?” Jack stood in the doorway.

The moment shattered.

“Cassidy was teaching me about basketball.”

“She’s teaching you?” Jack slid the ball from his uncle’s hands, dribbled it while he frowned at Cassidy. “Did you mention you went to college on a basketball scholarship?”

“I may have forgotten to mention that.” Ty held his palms up. “She didn’t really give me time to explain.”

“Conned by a pro.” Cassidy shook her head, winked at Jack. “Disgusting.”

“Worse than that.” Jack’s gaze seemed fixed on Ty’s beaming face. “He usually cheats.”

“I don’t need to cheat.” Ty’s chest puffed out. “I’m too good.”

“Yeah?” Cassidy lifted the ball from Jack’s hands and zinged it at Ty. “Prove it, hotshot. Jack and I against you.”

“That’s not—Hey!” he yelled as Jack stole the ball, raced across the floor and made a basket.

The next half hour passed in laughter and good-natured jeering, but at the end of it, Ty remained the point leader.

“You do know CPR, right? Because I’ll probably have a heart attack anytime now.” He bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He turned his head, shot her a grin. “But it was worth it just to know you owe me. You, too, Jack.”

“We were playing for something?” Barely winded, Jack continued to shoot baskets with deadly accuracy.

“Favors,” Cassidy huffed, clutching her side. “You and I both owe him one. I need to get back to the kitchen. Life’s easier there.”

“Are we having food at the karaoke on Friday night?”

“Pizzas.” She dragged herself toward the door, almost wishing she’d saved her energy for work. But it had been so much fun.

“Wait up.” Ty walked beside her, held open the door. “Coming, Jack?”

“Nah. Can I let some of the guys come and shoot baskets?”

Ty paused, nodded.

“Let me know when they get here. Mac can supervise.”

“They’re not going to rob the place.” Jack’s ruddy face grew belligerent. “Like there’s anything to rob in this dump.”

A tic flickered in Ty’s jaw but he kept his voice level.

“There is a liability issue and I won’t endanger your mother’s work. So please tell me when they arrive. Okay?”

“Fine.” Jack slammed the ball against the hoop so hard the echo rattled around the empty gym.

“Sorry to put you in the middle of that,” Ty apologized, letting the door swing closed behind him.

“Don’t worry about me.” Cassidy had a thousand questions, all of them to do with the boy who’d been happily playing one minute and metamorphosed into a grouch the next.

“Lately I can’t seem to say or do anything right with Jack. I’m very concerned about him. He’s getting more and more sullen and I don’t know why.”

“Have you asked him?” She winced at the glower he shot her way. “I know, you’re the psychologist and you know all the procedures, but I imagine it’s different when it’s someone close to you. So?”

He said nothing as they walked the hallway, but at the stairwell Ty paused.

“Jack doesn’t talk to me.”

“Why—”

“Other than the few cursory words he needs to get through the day, he very seldom says anything—unless it’s to tell me how badly I’m doing something.”

“I’m sorry.” Her heart pinched at the lines appearing on his face. “I know you’re trying, Ty. And I don’t think it’s you, particularly. He’s almost a teenager.”

He wagged his head slowly from side to side.

“It’s me. Jack resents that I’m here and his mother isn’t. Natural, certainly. But I’m responsible for him and I’m trying my best.”

“It can’t be easy, I know that. Do you mind if I try something Friday night?” She might live to regret her spur-of-the-moment decision but Cassidy couldn’t stand by and see this family fracture.

“Such as?”

“Well, it’s taken so long to get the karaoke night planned—not your fault,” she added before he could protest. “I wonder if Jack, and some of the other kids, too, if they show up, could help me assemble the pizzas. I’ll have the ingredients ready. There are lots of plastic gloves. They could have fun putting together different combinations.”

“They might ruin everything.” His brows drew together like thunderclouds massing. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for children to be in the kitchen.”

“In the kitchen’s a lot better than on the street,” she shot back then wished she hadn’t. “They’re not going to get hurt sprinkling cheese on dough, Ty. I’ll do the oven part.”

“I thought you had helpers to prepare the food ahead of time.”

“I do. And we will.” Getting him to agree to her ideas was like pushing cement uphill. “The Haven is for everyone, right?”

He nodded slowly as if he wasn’t quite sure he believed it.

“We have the seniors’ lunches, we have the evening meal. We have the day care. What we don’t have is something for the older kids to do. I doubt many of them will actually sing, but we could get them involved through the food. Maybe in time it would become a Friday-night thing for them to host—like a coffee house. You did say Jack was interested in the musical stuff at Davis’s church,” she reminded him.

“He just bought a bass guitar—without my knowledge.” Ty’s chagrin needed no translation. “I guess there could be worse things, but—”

“Maybe he’ll start a trend and the kids will come here to rap.”

He lifted one imperious eyebrow at her vernacular but Cassidy knew he was considering it because he tapped his fingers as he considered her position, finally nodding.

“Ask them. But don’t be hurt when they turn you down flat.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.”

She was quoting Scripture now? Cassidy scooted down the stairs toward the kitchen, but paused halfway.

“You promise you’ll talk to Irina tomorrow morning?”

“I said I would. Remember, you owe me a favor.”

“No problem. Just let me know.”

“I will, Cassidy. And you will pay up.”

Funny how she trusted that Ty would exact revenge and it didn’t bother her a bit. In fact, she was actually looking forward to it.

“Cassidy said you must talk to me.” Irina stood in the doorway Tuesday morning, fingers knotted, eyes wide with fear. “I do—did something bad?”

“According to Cassidy you’ve been doing very well. Please, sit down.”