by Sable Hunter
“Maybe.” He was going to ask her to dance again, she knew he was. And then this amazing interlude would be over. Don’t ask me to dance. Please don’t ask me to dance. She would look at him, then glance at her chair, wondering if he’d noticed the wheelchair sitting there like the elephant in the room.
For the next few minutes they laughed and talked about their day, exchanging bits of information about their lives, even sharing a funny story or two. Cassie found that Bowie Travis Malone was a really nice guy—smart, with a marvelous sense of humor and a quick wit. What amazed her was that he was spending time with her. To top it off, the man was beautiful. Yet here he sat, as if she was his choice of all the women in the room. For a moment, she wondered if one of her girlfriends had set this up. Wouldn’t that be awful?
Cassie tried to turn the conversation away from herself. “Tell me more about tracking? Where do you go? It sounds fascinating.”
And then it happened. “I look forward to telling you all about myself. But I’d rather hold you in my arms. May I have this dance?”
Her heart plummeted.
Here it was.
The moment she’d been dreading. The moment Bowie would stop seeing her as a woman. “No, thank you.” She gave him a wistful smile. Turning him down was necessary but it hurt.
“Just a spin around the room. I promise I won’t step on your feet.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come on, Cassie. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
Cassie’s heart broke. She hung her head. “I can’t.”
What was wrong? He watched all the laughter leave her eyes to be replaced with shadows. “You can’t dance?” He looked at her tenderly. “No worries. I’ll teach you.”
Glancing up, she saw he still stood before her—his arm was still extended, hand was palm up. “I can’t. I’m so sorry.”
His face fell. He actually looked disappointed. Slowly, he pulled back, putting distance between them. “Well, if you don’t want to. I understand.”
Cassie was so frustrated. Life was unfair. Sometimes she wanted to just scream. “No, you don’t.” She jerked the wheelchair and turned it around. “I can’t dance. I can’t even walk.” Not without help and not without looking like a total spaz. But he didn’t need to know any of that. Because she wouldn’t see Bowie Travis Malone after tonight.
Bowie actually jerked, like she’d struck him. Talk about a visceral reaction. He was probably disgusted.
Two or three seconds passed before he fully comprehended what she was saying. And when he did, he felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. This couldn’t be true. Cassie was so gorgeous, so perfect. There had to be a mistake. “I don’t understand.”
To make her point, she took hold of the back of the chair and shifted her body so her useless legs came into view. She knew he could tell—the way they were positioned, the way she had to move them with her hands.
Jesus. He felt like a heel. Everything within him made him want to turn and run, not to get away from her, but to escape the tragic unfairness that a perfect woman, one who could have been the woman of his dreams was sentenced to a lifetime in a wheelchair. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I apologize. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
Great, he felt sorry for her. She felt tears come to her eyes as he sank back into his chair. Well, what did she expect? “Look, it’s all right.” Not thinking clearly, she covered her hand with his. It was big and warm and when he turned his over and twined their fingers together, she just melted inside. “It was nice to be asked.”
Shame almost took Bowie’s breath away. Looking into her eyes, Bowie could tell what she expected him to do. This wasn’t new. Cassie had been rejected by assholes who took off as soon as they saw her chair.
“Hey, Bowie, I’m here. Micah and Tyson are driving up.” He jumped when Tanner spoke. “Do you want to introduce me?”
“Yea,” Bowie said, mentally shaking his head so he’d make sense to Cassie and his friend. He was still thrown for a loop. “Cassie, this is my friend Tanner Barron. Tanner, this is Cassie Cartwright. We just met tonight.”
Tanner smiled and greeted Cassie. He kept looking back and forth between them, seemingly aware there was tension.
“Could you give us a minute? I’ll be right with you.” Giving Tanner a pointed stare, Bowie conveyed the seriousness of his request.
“Sure thing, we’ll wait at the bar. Take your time.” Tanner left.
Despite his misgivings, there was no way Bowie was going to leave things as they were. “Look, Cassie, there’s a lot of things we can do besides dance. I’ll be back. Don’t you move.”
When he looked into her face, Bowie seemed sincere.
Cassie thought he was the nicest man she’d ever met.
“Thank you, Bowie. For the drink and for sitting and talking to me.”
He stood. “I’m serious. Just as soon as I get through with these guys, I’ll be back.”
She watched him walk away. He even turned back once, looked at her and she smiled.
But Cassie had no intention of waiting to see if Bowie would come back. She didn’t dare hope. After he’d seen her chair, she knew that was all he saw—not her as a woman. Cassie needed to remember that. No wishing on falling stars for her. Keeping her feet, or wheels, firmly planted on the ground was the smartest thing she could do.
So, as soon as he walked away and she could see he’d become involved in his conversation, Cassie slowly lifted herself into her chair and went the long way around. Luckily she had run into Felicity and informed her she was leaving so her friends wouldn’t worry. It wasn’t like her to be rude. Except to Bowie. What if? No! He wouldn’t have come. Rejecting him before he could reject her was the smartest thing she could’ve done.
CHAPTER TWO
Tanner had been right. He had a lot in common with Micah and Tyson. They had agreed to get together again soon. Even though he’d done his best to give them his full attention, his heart wasn’t in it. He couldn’t wait until the moment came when he could break away from them without being totally ill-mannered. All he got from Tanner was a smirk, but he waved Bowie on, telling him he’d call in a couple of days.
But when Bowie walked back to the table where he’d left Cassie, she was gone. Her friends greeted him with a bit of amused curiosity. Bowie didn’t care. He was on a mission. “Did Cassie Cartwright leave?”
A short dark-haired girl spoke up. “Yea, she left about a half hour ago.”
“Was she going home?”
With a shrug of her shoulders, the brunette answered, “Yea, I’m sure. She never stays long at these things.” Then as if she realized she was telling a man that her friend was alone and vulnerable, she edited her opinion. “I think she was meeting her boyfriend. He was taking her home.”
Bowie knew it was highly possible Cassie had a date, but somehow it didn’t ring true. She had run from him.
Well, that was okay. He knew where to find her. Bowie was still confused, he couldn’t deny that. What did he want to happen with Cassie? Right now he didn’t know for sure. He didn’t want to hurt her, that much was certain. Did he want to see her again? Would it be wise to see her again? What his Uncle Michael always said kept running through his brain. ‘The universe has a way of giving you a sign. All you have to do is keep your eyes open.’
Walking out the door, he turned to head toward his truck. Only a few steps from the door, something caught his eye on the ground. Bowie stopped and knelt down. “Well, how about that.” He picked up Cassie’s charm bracelet off the ground. “Thank you.” He acknowledged the sweet hand of fate. “I can handle things from here.”
Bowie slipped the bracelet in his pocket and climbed into his truck. He was debating whether to deliver the lost item of jewelry to its owner tonight or wait till the next day when the phone rang. “Malone.”
“Bowie, it’s Jacob. We need you. It’s Aron, he’s missing.”
Bowie’s heart lurched in his chest. “Where? When? How?” After he’d been told, he started
his truck and put it into gear. “I’ll catch a flight and meet you there.”
* * *
Cassie held the glass jar to her nose and took a whiff. “Got it.” She smiled. Capturing the delicate smell of honeysuckle had been tricky. After several attempts when she’d either gone too strong or too weak, she’d finally nailed it. The secret had been the addition of a tiny bit of night blooming jasmine. She ran a finger over the creamy mix, knowing it would soon harden into a long-burning candle which would provide someone with hours of enjoyment. Cassie sighed. She took pleasure in her work, thankful she had found something she enjoyed doing, which made enough money for her to be independent.
Being handicapped complicated things. Lots of things.
Rolling her wheelchair backward, she made her way to the dining table to pack a few more boxes for shipping. The UPS truck would come tomorrow and she had packages to send to a half dozen boutiques in and around the Austin area. Circle C Candles was finding its market and she couldn’t be happier.
Well, she could.
If she could have someone like Bowie Travis Malone in her life, she’d have nothing to complain about for eternity. But that wasn’t possible. And the sooner she stopped thinking about him, the better off she’d be.
Taping up the bottom of the box, Cassie affixed a mailing label and her own special sticker depicting the W shape of the Cassiopeia constellation, five bright stars on a cobalt blue background. A rowdy round of barking from Sassy alerted her that her cat, Patience, was at the front, wanting to come in. “If I could teach you how to open the screen door, I would.” The deep red dachshund dashed from the entrance and back to her several times, anxious to be united with his buddy. She laughed. Making her way to the door, she held it ajar as the fat orange tabby slipped inside. “Catch any mice?” A sultry meow was her answer and she took it for a ‘no.’ “Well, better luck next time. I put you two out some food already so bon appétit.”
At least she wasn’t alone.
“A woman like you should never be alone.”
Bowie’s voice came back to haunt her. Cassie moved to the window, looked out into the darkness and thought of him. Had he come back to find her? It had been weeks since the night she’d met him. And now, well, she’d never know. Probably not. She’d chickened out and ran, losing her precious beach bracelet somewhere along the way. The idea that she’d possibly also lost out on spending more time with him hurt more than the loss of the jewelry. But she just couldn’t handle another disappointment.
Feeling restless, she wished she could jump out of her chair and run down the road. Expending energy was tricky for a person in her condition. If she wasn’t careful and determined, she would lose all muscle tone and gain weight. Her exercises were something she did religiously. Getting into position, Cassie eased herself out of the chair and onto the floor by the portable sling she kept near at hand. “Dang, dang, dang,” she breathed through the pain. Instantly she was joined by an overzealous dog and cat who proceeded to give her kisses until the tears were forgotten and she was breathless with laughter. Not exactly the kind of kisses she longed for but they would have to do.
And she’d experience Bowie Travis’s kisses later…in her dreams.
Fantasizing made the time pass quicker and helped with the pain. For the past few weeks, she’d honed her daydream. When she closed her eyes, she was back at the bar and just like he’d promised, Bowie returned to her. And refusing to take no for an answer, he swept her up in his arms, and somehow, by some miracle, they were dancing. He held her close in his arms and Cassie felt as if she’d come home. They stared into one another’s eyes and slowly he lowered his face to hers and kissed her.
Cassie held her breath as she did one more rep of leg lifts. The pain was agonizing, but she couldn’t quit. Every little bit of movement she could push from her legs was a victory. As normal, she cried from the effort. When she’d finished, she lay there and just breathed. She wasn’t through. Next she would pull herself up and hold on to the backs of two dining table chairs and walk in place for as long as she could stand it.
Over and over again, she relived the moment when she turned him down. Had she done the right thing? Could someone like her find happiness with a man as virile and active as Bowie? If by some miracle he could be interested, a selfish part of her would want to latch on to him and take whatever he would give. But that wouldn’t be fair to him. She could never keep up with him, not in life and not in bed. So, there was no use starting something she couldn’t finish. Cassie had a full life. What with her business, her home and her volunteer work, the hours were filled. It was only when she was alone in the dark of night, lying by herself in the bed, that she ached with the idea that this would always be her lot in life.
Sighing, Cassie used her upper body strength to maneuver her way back into the chair. “There! Got it. Yay!” She celebrated. A couple more minutes of rest and a few sips of water and she’d be ready to take a walk.
* * *
“George, give me that wrench.” Bowie held out his hand to his partner. Even though the wind whipping through the door of their shop was chilly, sweat was pouring off his brow. Damn, it was good to be home.
“Here you go.” The older man squatted down next to him. “When you get a chance, I need to go over some papers with you. Michael has been a godsend but we’ve got some jobs up for bid and I need to know what you think.”
At the mention of his Uncle, Bowie smiled. “No problem. I’m just glad to be home for a while. Did you two ole’ reprobates stay out of trouble?”
George laughed. “No. We worked hard every day and partied hard every night. What did you expect?”
Bowie glanced up at his friend. He always wore coveralls over a white T-shirt, usually with a red bandanna tied around his neck. Whiskers covered his face but there was always a twinkle in his eye. “Nothing less. Did Uncle get lucky?”
“Not as lucky as I did. I hooked up with the hottest little redhead in Texas. Michael’s chasing hot and heavy after a stacked blonde by the name of Lucy. In fact, we’re heading over to Arkey’s tonight. Wanna join us?”
At the mention of the club, all Bowie could think about was the last time he’d been there—and Cassie. With everything that had happened with Aron, he had let the time get away from him. But he still had her bracelet and he still intended to return it to her. “No, I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll just hang out here at the zoo.”
“Zoo’s right,” George grumbled. As soon as Bowie said the word, Jasmine came strutting into the shop like she owned it. “I’ll never understand why you let these damn camels and that pot-bellied pig run loose.”
Bowie laughed as Jasmine butted her head against George’s shoulder. “They can’t get out of the yard, George Ray. Besides, I think Jasmine is sweet on you.” He finished tightening the bolt on the dozer blade, stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans.
“Shoot, I’d BBQ her but I bet she’d be stringy and tough.” George playfully pushed on the big one-humped dromedary who ruled the roost at Vega Verde.
“Just wait till that baby is born in a few days. You’ll be as doting on it as me and Laurence.”
George rubbed the camel’s nose. “Laurence spits, I don’t like him,” he grunted. Looking over, George studied Bowie Travis, noting how tired he looked. “You’ve had a hard time, haven’t you?”
Bowie walked over to the workbench and put up his tools. “Not being able to find Aron nearly killed me. You have no idea how that family has suffered, Libby especially.”
“Does your coming home mean they’ve given up?”
“Hell, no.” He rubbed the stiffness in his shoulder from sleeping in the wrong position on the plane from Seattle. “Jacob and the rest of the McCoys won’t give up until they know something for sure. The parameters of the search have changed but not their devotion to finding their brother.”
“Are you going back to help?” George searched through the papers on the disorganized desk in the corner.
&n
bsp; “Right now, they’ve brought in some Private Investigators and they’re looking at his disappearance from a different perspective. But when they need me, I’ll go. Of course, I’ll go.” Bowie rubbed his face and threaded his fingers through his hair. “God, I need a haircut.”
“Nah,” George said as he laughed, “The women like you that way. Makes you look like some kind of lion on the wild savannah.” He laughed when Bowie rolled his eyes. “So, what were you doing up in Seattle?”
Bowie knew his tracking exploits intrigued George so he humored him. “An elderly man and his son wandered off a hiking path and got caught in a blizzard. Luckily we found them before they froze.”
“See any sign of bear?”
“Not this time.” He slapped George on the shoulder. Both he and Uncle Michael loved anything to do with the wilderness and bears. His uncle had retired a few years ago and now lived vicariously through Bowie’s adventures. “I also worked a landslide up that way, took out a whole community. We found some survivors, though, so it was worth it.”
“Well, I’m just glad you’re home. We need you here.” At that proclamation, George gestured toward a seat. “Let’s have coffee and let me tell you about these two jobs, then you can go call that little girl who’s got your boxers in a knot.”
“How’d you know?” Bowie stared at his friend. There was no use denying it, thoughts of Cassie had plagued him almost constantly.
“Hey, I picked you up from the airport and drove your butt home.” George shoved his cap on his head. “You talk in your sleep, Romeo.”
Hell.
After a few hours of listening to George talk about drillers mud and pond liners, Bowie was ready to call it a day. Besides, he had something important to take care of, a phone call he needed to make. After seeing his partner off and giving him a message for his uncle, he locked up the shop and headed for the house. Malone Earthworks was situated only a few hundred yards from his home. The sun was beginning to set and the canvas of colors that spread out over the sky made Bowie thankful for life. He let his eyes rove over his property, from the log house he’d built with his own two hands to the rolling green pastures which framed the front section of the camp. He ran a few hundred head of cattle and several dozen horses which he took care of when he could, but the main responsibility for the livestock he hired out to the Edgar brothers who lived next door. A chorus of barks and meows met him as he made his way up on the porch. “Who’s hungry?” He waded between jubilant little bodies. Everybody wanted a hand-out and everybody wanted some petting. Even Petunia. People questioned his devotion to his menagerie but Bowie didn’t care. People who didn’t like animals couldn’t be trusted. Rushing without neglecting anyone, he filled bowls, checked water and scratched behind a dozen ears. “I got to get in the house now. I’ll check you guys later.”
