Cassie's Hope (Riders Up)

by Kraft, Adriana

  “It’s okay. We should have talked about it years ago. But you didn’t ask. And I wasn’t about to bring it up on my own. But Cassie…” He looked at her a long time, as if he wanted to touch her soul. “You certainly have your mother’s blood in your veins as well as my own. You have her beauty, no doubt about that. But you have so much more than she did. You give of yourself freely. You can be patient, even in spite of that fiery temper of yours.”

  Cassie nodded, watching through teary eyes, waiting while he put together what he wanted her to hear.

  “You will make a super mother. Hell, you’ve been a mother to all those delinquent kids at the group home. Lester and Sammy could never find a better mother. If you love the man, don’t let your mother stand in the way of your dreams. She had her own and chased them in her own way. Now it’s your turn.”

  The morning chores at the track were finished. Driving back to the farm, Cassie clutched the steering wheel of the pickup tightly glancing over at her passenger. Clint seemed engrossed with the passing billboards. She figured by this time she should be able to read him fairly well, yet she felt like she hardly knew him. He volunteered little about himself and responded to her questions with adequate but certainly not revealing answers.

  “So what was it like growing up on the reservation?”

  Clint turned and looked at her blankly. “Huh?”

  “What was growing up like for you? You know that I bounced from track to track and that my mother walked out on us when I was young. You know that my aunt filled in the best she could. But I hardly know a thing about your childhood. I like your mom and grandmother a lot.”

  “Not much to tell.” Clint shrugged. “I didn’t grow up on the reservation, although much of my social life revolved around it. I had my share of bad and good. My sister and I were well loved.” Clint smiled. “My Mom is such a great cook it’s amazing I’m not roly-poly. Grandmother made sure we learned the old ways, as she put it. I did the vision quest thing and learned about my place in the grand scheme of things.”

  “So what about your father? How did your mom and dad meet?”

  Clint’s features clouded. He turned away again to watch the Chicago suburbs whiz by. “My father was a geologist with one of the gas and oil companies sent in to determine whether it would be profitable for the tribe to drill. He fell in love with the high desert plateau.”

  Cassie nodded. She could understand that.

  “The story goes that he met my mother at a community dance. And theirs was a fantasy courtship. Love at first sight, both said.” He grimaced, shifting his weight in the seat. “That might have been true for them, but not for their families.”

  “They didn’t like the idea of them marrying.”

  Clint laughed bitterly. “That’s putting it mildly. His parents threatened to disown him if he married beneath his station. Her family warned her of all kinds of bad happenings if she married outside her race.”

  “But they ignored family threats and advice?”

  “Yeah, to everyone’s dismay. They ran off to Reno and married.”

  After prolonged silence, Cassie asked, “So what happened then?”

  “My mother’s family came to accept my father with reluctance, but at least they accepted him.”

  “And your father’s?” Cassie kept her eyes on the road, but listened closely.

  “Well, let’s put it this way. I’ve never met any grandparents or any other relative on that side of the family. Don’t even know if any of them are still alive.”

  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 hav
e 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.