Cassie's Hope (Riders Up)

by Kraft, Adriana

  Later, as he was putting away tack, he was none too pleased to see Silver Hawk entering the stable.

  “The horse ran a good race today,” his sister volunteered, plopping herself down on a bale of hay.

  “She ran the kind of race I thought she could. It was a good win.”

  “Cassie looked happy.”

  “Most winners do.”

  Silver Hawk nodded, looked away and then back to give her brother a withering glare as only she could.

  Watching her emotions ebb and flow, Clint thought, and not for the first time, that his sister had received a stronger gene pool from his grandmother than he had, and that it wasn’t fair. Both of them could be mysterious, undaunting, and incredibly damning.

  “So,” Silver Hawk began, tossing her braids over her shoulders as if she were preparing for war, “when are you going deal with the mess you’ve made?”

  “What mess?” he growled.

  “You know what I mean. Cassie. The kids. Yourself. Our family. Pick anyone,” she said, “they all seem to be intertwined, like a wet lariat.”

  “Time will take care of things,” Clint said, none too gently. “It doesn’t require meddling from anyone else.”

  “Okay. I give up. You win,” the young woman said sadly. “I’m not blaming you completely. I’m sure Cassie has to own her share of the burden here. But the kids shouldn’t.” Silver Hawk’s voice rose uncharacteristically. “They’re hurt because they gave of themselves freely with no strings attached.”

  Clint continued to glare, but knew it was useless to interrupt.

  “Somehow you have to help them get through this,” his sister pleaded, “however you and Cassie resolve things.”

  “They’re resolved!”

  “Like hell they are,” Silver Hawk hissed, jumping up from the hay bale. “And Lester and Sammy only feel rejected and hurt. You didn’t let them say goodbye, and you haven’t even tried to explain anything to them so they might have a chance of understanding and getting beyond the pain. This thing between you and Fire Woman is bigger than either one of you. When are you going to wake up and see that and do something about it?”

  “Fire Woman.” Clint lurched away from the stall wall. “That’s a crock.” He started to walk away ending the conversation.

  But his sister was not yet done.

  “I’m going to saddle my horse and pack some food. I’ll be gone two, maybe as many as four days. Deal with your kids while I’m gone.” With that injunction, she spun on her heel and stalked off.

  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. Yo
u 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.”