by Tracey Smith
She made her way downstairs and marveled at how un-intimidating the front room was when lit up by the daylight. She really needed to stop acting like a frightened child when the sun went down. It was just not like her at all. She found Mrs. Owens in the kitchen rolling out some dough on the kitchen counter.
“Oh good, you’re here. Could you grab me some more flour, dear?” Mrs. Owens asked, nodding toward the bag of flour sitting on the opposite counter.
Cassidy quickly retrieved the bag and brought it to Mrs. Owens.
“Just sprinkle a little on the dough if you don’t mind.”
Cassidy did and then continued to watch as Mrs. Owens rolled and worked the dough into a thin sheet. She seemed very at home in the kitchen, just like Cassidy had always imagined a grandmother should be. The St. Claire’s had been older when they’d adopted her, each of their parents had passed away before Cassidy was old enough to remember them. She had never known what it was like to have grandparents. Mrs. Owens was the embodiment of everything she would have wanted in a grandmother.
“Do you have any children?” Cassidy asked as she leaned against the counter and watched Mrs. Owens work.
“No, Mr. Owens and I were never blessed with children.” Mrs. Owens said sadly. “Perhaps that is why I took to Ben so strongly when he came to live here. He was still practically a child.” Mrs. Owens reflected nostalgically.
Cassidy perked up at this new tidbit of information. Ben had been a child when he’d come here? Had he been an orphan too?
“Ben was only a child?” Cassidy asked casually, hoping Mrs. Owens would elaborate.
“A teenager really, but a lost soul. Coming here was good for him.” Mrs. Owens nodded her confirmation of the statement. “He was headed down a dark path.” She shook her head sadly.
“What do you mean?” Cassidy leaned forward with interest.
“Oh well, you know teenagers.” Mrs. Owens dismissed waving her hand in the air. “But he’s grown into a fine young man.” She smiled pleasantly and Cassidy got the impression that she wasn’t going to get any more information on that subject, at least not for now.
“What was my great-uncle like?” Cassidy asked, changing tack.
“He was a very… particular man.” Mrs. Owens expression grew harder.
“Mr. Woodard described him the same way. What does that mean?” Cassidy probed.
“He had his ways.” Mrs. Owens answered vaguely. “Would you mind grabbing some squash and zucchini from the ice box?” Mrs. Owens asked changing topics.
“Of course.” Cassidy answered heading for the fridge. She opened the door and was surprised by the sheer volume of vegetables that filled it.
“Bottom shelf.” Mrs. Owens instructed.
Cassidy looked through the bottom shelf and located a bushels worth of squash and zucchini stacked in the back corner. “How many?” she asked with her head still buried in the fridge.
“Two of each should be plenty.”
Cassidy retrieved the vegetables and then watched as Mrs. Owens showed her how to slice and quarter them properly. She chopped vegetables and watched as Mrs. Owens worked over the stove making some sort of chunky tomato sauce.
“What are we making?” Cassidy asked to break the long silence that had ensued.
“Vegetable spaghetti.” Mrs. Owens explained as she began feeding the thin sheet of dough through a contraption that sliced it into thin strips. Cassidy realized she was making the pasta. She’d never seen anyone make pasta before. She felt in awe of Mrs. Owens and the miracles she could work in the kitchen.
Cassidy hadn’t even realized how much time had passed until the back door opened and a dirty, sweaty Ben came sauntering inside. Despite being covered head to toe in dirt and having his brown hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, he looked surprisingly appealing. She was sure she hadn’t looked nearly as attractive after having spent her few hours working in the gardens.
“Dinner in ten.” Mrs. Owens said without turning from the stove. Ben nodded as he headed out of the kitchen, but he paused eyeing Cassidy with what looked like appreciation, then he exited without a word.
Cassidy exhaled in relief after he’d left the room. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d immediately gone on guard when he’d entered the room. She told herself it was because she was preparing for another fight, but even she doubted the validity of that excuse. In truth his mere presence did things to her that no man had ever achieved. It was confusing and unnerving.
Her mind argued that he was mean and rude and completely uncivilized. Not at all her type. Her body argued; Have you seen him with his shirt off? She flushed at the memory. She’d never been one to drool over a handsome man before, but somehow that description just didn’t seem…enough. Ben carried himself with a raw sexuality that spoke directly to something deep and dark within Cassidy. Something she’d never really examined before.
“Thank you for your help tonight.” Mrs. Owens interrupted her impure musings bringing her back to the present.
“I really enjoyed it.” Cassidy responded honestly. She noticed that Mrs. Owens had prepared her signature covered tray to carry to her room.
“Thanks for dinner, Lucy.” Ben said entering the room looking clean and fresh, water still glistening in his wet hair.
“Cassidy helped.” Mrs. Owens said winking over at her. “Cassidy, dear, do you mind serving up the plates for you and Ben?”
“Of course.” Cassidy said immediately grabbing some plates from the cabinet and crossing to the pot on the stove. She heaped the vegetable pasta onto the plates and turned back to the table. Mrs. Owens was already gone leaving her alone with Ben again.
She carried the plates to the table and set one in front of Ben. He craned his neck to look up at her.
“Didn’t know you could cook, Miss St. Claire.” He said staring up at her with his scalding green eyes. He was uncomfortably close as Cassidy had leaned over him to put the plate on the table. She mentally schooled herself not to jerk back too quickly.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Mr. Riley.” She said coyly, slowly moving away from him and sitting at the table with her own plate.
“So there are.” He agreed with a smirk.
They ate in heavy silence both of them concentrating on their plates.
“How’s your head?” Ben asked, breaking the silence.
“Fine.” Cassidy said, subconsciously reaching up to touch her forehead. She winced. Ben noticed.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure how that happened. I wouldn’t have sent you in there if I’d thought…” He trailed off.
“It really was my fault.” Cassidy interjected quickly. “I should have been paying more attention.” Was Ben Riley actually apologizing to her?
“I guess you’ll be heading home tomorrow?” He asked blandly.
“Why would you say that?” She asked surprised.
“Tomorrow is Monday, isn’t that when you told Mr. Woodard you would give him your decision?”
How did he know that? Had Mr. Woodard given him a transcript of the meeting?
“And why do you assume my decision is to leave?” Cassidy asked, deciding to deal with the more pressing matter.
“Isn’t it?” He scoffed.
She stiffened.
“If you were the only tenant then perhaps I would leave, Mr. Riley, and leave you to your own devices. But the fact of the matter is that you aren’t the only tenant who would be affected. I’m going to assume you know all the details of my inheritance, as you seem to know everything else about my dealings.” She added irritably. “The fact remains that Mrs. Owens is a resident of this house as well, and I simply couldn’t justify kicking that poor woman out of her home. Whether you like it or not, Mr. Riley, I will be staying here for the next month.” She hadn’t really made the decision up until that point. Well maybe she had, but this was the first time that she’d accepted the decision, and it felt like the right one.
“What’s different t
his time?” He challenged “Don’t you make a living out of kicking families out of their homes?”
“Of course not!” She exclaimed, flushing in anger. Who the hell did he think he was? He didn’t know a thing about her.
“Only their businesses then?” He pressed.
“Mr. Riley, I’m not sure what you’ve heard about me, but I work for a highly successful corporation that builds luxury resorts. I don’t kick anybody out of anywhere.”
“No, you leave the dirty work to someone else I suppose. You just convince families to turn over their hard earned businesses, their legacies, to some corporate conglomerate.”
“I buy property from businesses that are facing bankruptcy! I help them!” She practically shouted.
“Have you ever asked them if they see it that way?” He asked, his voice hauntingly calm.
“Obviously we have differing views on business practices.” Cassidy offered a truce. “It doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been faced with a responsibility and I’m not going to turn my back on it. For some reason my uncle wanted me to live in this house, and if that’s what it’s going to take to maintain Mrs. Owens home for her, then I guess that’s what I’ll do. You can stay or you can go, Mr. Riley. The choice is yours.” Cassidy had lost her appetite, she stood from the table and left her dishes and that infuriating man behind.
When Cassidy woke up the next morning everything hurt. Her head throbbed, her arms, legs and abs ached like they never had before. It was even worse than the weekend her and Becca had tried Booty Boot Camp. Her face felt tight and raw, she was sure she had an awful sunburn. As she lay in bed cataloging all of her aches and pains she decided it might be easier to concentrate on what didn’t hurt. Her eyes didn’t hurt, she thought mildly. Then she opened them and the glare from the sunlight burned. Okay, scratch that, there wasn’t anything that didn’t hurt.
She kept her eyes closed a few minutes longer and then again tried to gradually open them, shielding the light from her eyes. She felt like she had a massive hangover and she hadn’t even had any fun last night to make it worth it. Last night. She thought of the heated argument she’d gotten into with Ben. Thinking only made her head hurt worse, she decided to put off any heavy thinking until after she’d had her coffee. Lots of coffee.
She rolled out of bed groaning, with her eyes still squinted nearly shut against the bright sunshine. She hadn’t remembered leaving the curtains open last night, but they were pulled wide allowing the glaring sunlight to fill her room. She wondered if Mrs. Owens would have come in to open them while she was sleeping. Then it dawned on her, the sun was up. Ben hadn’t woken her this morning.
She turned to the bedside clock and saw that it was almost noon. She’d slept all morning! She hadn’t done that since she was a teenager. It was understandable after the hours of manual labor that she’d endured the day before, but she was confused why Ben had let her sleep. Wouldn’t he have enjoyed torturing her before dawn in the state she was in this morning?
A scary thought crossed her mind, maybe he had. Maybe he’d opened the curtains, but she’d refused to wake so he’d left her. The thought of Ben in her room while she slept made her anxious, but it had also helped to jolt her awake.
She went to the bathroom and showered. The hot water stung her sunburned face, but relaxed her aching muscles. After the shower she looked through her closet for something to wear into town. She chose a navy blue shift dress with a matching belt, she figured it was very appropriate for the New England setting. She matched her room nicely.
She brushed her teeth and grabbed her make-up bag but realized that with her skin so flushed from the sunburn she really didn’t need to add any more color to her face. She opted for just a clear gloss on her lips and a little mascara. She pulled her hair back into a French braid that ran the length of her back, and finally slipped on her strappy blue heels.
She took one last look in the mirror and decided that aside from the goose-egg on her forehead at her hairline, she looked pretty presentable. Definitely much better than she’d felt when she’d woken up. She made her way downstairs and wondered if she’d find anyone in the kitchen at this hour. She wasn’t sure where else Mrs. Owens spent her time, but wanted to make sure to let her know that she was running to town.
The kitchen was empty when she walked in, Cassidy crossed over to the coffee pot, placing her hand against it. Thankfully it was still hot.
“Can I get you something, dear?” Mrs. Owens voice came from behind startling her. She jumped as she spun around to face her. Did she have some sort of sixth sense to know when someone was in her kitchen?
“I was just about to head to town to meet with Mr. Woodard.” Cassidy explained “I was going to fix some coffee before I left.”
“Oh please, let me get that for you.” Mrs. Owens smiled as she opened a cabinet and retrieved a travel mug. She poured the coffee, adding cream and sugar just as Cassidy had done the other day. Mrs. Owens was very observant. Cassidy figured that came naturally after spending forty years running a bed and breakfast. It was a shame that she was already a widow and without children or a family of her own. Cassidy knew she was doing the right thing by staying, despite having to put up with Ben Riley in the process. Mrs. Owens deserved to keep her home.
“Will you be home for dinner?” Mrs. Owens asked with exaggerated casualness. Cassidy knew what she was really asking was whether or not she would be back at all.
“Yes, I’ll be back for dinner.” Cassidy assured her and she could see the relief on her face.
Cassidy plugged her cell phone into the console as soon as she was in the car and realized with dismay that she didn’t have any cell service up here on the mountain. She wondered how many messages she would have once her phone came back to life. She didn’t have too long to wonder. About a mile from the house her phone began pinging repeatedly indicating that she’d had quite a few missed calls and voicemails. When the phone finally stopped she hit the voice activation button on the console.
“Voicemail.” She said, then listened as her messages played for her. There were three from Roger, each more frantic than the last. Mr. Belfour hadn’t been happy with being put off last week and Roger was just beside himself. The last message was from Becca asking Cassidy what time she expected to be back today. Cassidy considered the situation carefully for a few minutes and then decided to just jump into the fire.
“Call Becca.” She instructed and the phone dialed, Becca picked up on the second ring.
“It’s about time.” She said as a way of greeting.
“Glad to see you missed me.” Cassidy laughed.
“Not as much as Roger, the poor boy is lost without you.” Becca laughed. “You should see him wandering around the office looking like a lost puppy. It’s kind of sad, actually.”
“Well Roger is just going to have to be lost for a little while longer. I’m staying for a few more weeks.” Cassidy knew there was no point in beating around the bush.
“Excuse me? I must have misheard you. Did you say a few weeks?” Becca sounded incredulous.
“Apparently the will has some bizarre stipulation that I have to live on the premises for thirty days before I can assume the property.” Cassidy explained.
“What kind of crap is that?” Becca asked.
“I don’t know, apparently my uncle was a very ‘particular’ man.” Cassidy said, using the adjective everyone else had used to describe her uncle. She still wasn’t entirely sure what that meant.
“Cassi, what am I supposed to do about Mr. Belfour?” Becca asked exasperated. “He wasn’t too happy with our little stunt Friday, I’m not even sure if he bought it.”
“Becca, this is something I need to do. I have like a million vacation days saved up, so I’m going to use them. You’ve helped me close countless deals, I know you can do this. And you can have the full commission. This one is all you.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, she knew she’d hooked her with the wor
ds “full commission”.
“You really think I can do this?” Becca asked sounding unsure.
“I know you can.”
“Okay fine.” Becca conceded. “So tell me about New Hampshire.” She said switching from business partner back to best friend. Cassidy proceeded to fill her in on everything that had happened since she’d arrived in Cedar Hollow.
“You like him!” Becca exclaimed when Cassidy had finished her story.
“No I don’t!” Cassidy immediately denied it. “This isn’t about Ben, it’s about Mrs. Owens. That place is her home.”
“How old is he?” Becca pressed.
“I don’t know, about thirty I guess, my age.”
“Is he cute?”
“That’s beside the point.”
“That’s exactly the point! You like him.” Becca accused again.
“That’s ridiculous! He’s absolutely awful, haven’t you heard anything I’ve said.”
“I’ve heard everything, even the stuff you’re not saying.” Becca insisted. “You wouldn’t be staying if you didn’t like him.”
“Mrs. Owens…”
“If this was only about her you would just arrange to have her hired as a cook at one of our resorts. You’d get her set up in some fancy penthouse suite to absolve yourself of any guilt about having the house torn down. This is about him.”
“I... no… That’s not it…” Cassidy stammered.
“I can’t believe someone has actually gotten to you. No one ever gets under your skin. He must be pretty special.”
“He’s a judgmental, rude… impossible man!” Cassidy insisted.
“He sounds perfect for you.” Cassidy could hear the laughter in Becca’s voice.
“I’ve got to go.” Cassidy said as she pulled up in front of Mr. Woodard’s office. “My phone doesn’t have service up on the mountain, but I’ll try to check for messages anytime I come to town.”
“Okay.” Becca said cheerfully. “Don’t forget to send me an invite for the wedding.”
Cassidy hung up to the sound of Becca’s laughter. She really had no idea what she was talking about. Sure she found Ben attractive, who wouldn’t? The man was practically sculpted out of stone. But that didn’t mean that she liked him. Her decision to stay was entirely for Mrs. Owens benefit, Ben Riley was a deterrent, not a perk.
