by Laura Moore
“Sweet deal.” Hank grinned.
Caleb shrugged, explaining, “Mark likes to go on trips. Extreme adventuring, that sort of thing. Last time, he took off hiking in Nepal.”
“That must be fascinating. He must have terrific stories to tell about it.”
Caleb grunted noncommittally at the enthusiastic look on Cassie’s face. He knew bloody well that if Mark Winterer were to see that excited look on Cassie’s face, he’d have her back at his apartment, showing her his photo album in five minutes flat.
“Yeah, well, Mark’s not real social, Cassie,” Caleb fibbed smoothly. “He’s kind of awkward around women. Probably why he enjoys going to the ends of the earth. So he won’t have to talk to anyone.”
Hank fished a crumpled handkerchief from the front pocket of his baggy khakis, blowing noisily to cover his laughter. Man, Caleb had it bad if he was this reluctant for Cassie to meet Mark. Especially seeing that Caleb was sitting pretty, if Hank was any judge. Over the past couple of weeks, something had definitely changed between Cassie and Caleb. They actually seemed to like each other. As far as Hank could remember, since the divorce, Caleb hadn’t even bothered to feel anything deeper than arousal for a woman. And that never lasted long enough for Caleb to find out if the woman was likeable. Nope, all she had to be was, well, beddable. On the other hand, perhaps that was part of the reason for Caleb’s possessiveness. As sure as God made little green apples, Caleb and Cassie had yet to get naked together. Poor kids.
It was almost embarrassing when Hank caught one of them looking at the other. The longing, the hunger. He felt as if he were peeking through their bedroom curtains.
One night, he’d talked it over with Melissa, when they were preparing for bed. Melissa had assured him that this was perfect. Sure, Caleb was probably taking cold showers in the middle of the night and Cassie probably felt like a walking, bundle of live wires, exposed, sizzling in the air for all the world to see.
But it was far better this way. If Caleb had succeeded in hustling Cassie into his bed too soon, he would have probably distanced himself from her, out of sheer force of habit. A reflex now as natural to him as breathing. That’s why this relationship might actually stand a chance. Cassie was becoming a part of Caleb’s life.
Melissa, too, had seen the way Caleb teased Cassie, making her alternately blush or laugh depending on his whispered words. And from her frequent chats on the telephone with Thompson, Melissa knew just how often Caleb had supper at Cassie’s, and just how much time he spent helping out with Sophie and Jamie.
Not that she was surprised. Caleb had always been a wonderful boy.
In Melissa’s opinion, history was full of good people doing really stupid things in the pursuit of love. It wasn’t Caleb’s fault that his younger self had mistaken love for the response of his wild, raging hormones when he encountered that cold-hearted sexpot, Pamela.
People deserved a second chance.
She just hoped Caleb would be smart enough to grab his with both hands.
For his part, Hank hoped his wife’s instincts were on the money. With a small sigh, he shook off the niggling worry that these two might be speeding toward heartbreak and sorrow.
He forced his attention back to the conversation. “So that’s settled. I’ll follow the van, you and Cassie come in the Jeep. Actually, this works out great. Caleb can show you the quickest route. Hate for you to get lost on one of those country roads.”
“Oh, ye of little faith.”
Hank grinned and stretched back in his chair. “Heck, Cassie, if you want to get lost on the way back, be my guest. I just want to make sure you show up in time for your class.” Swiftly changing the subject, he inquired, “So tomorrow Orion’s just getting a light workout?”
“Yes. Then we’ll let him out, give him time to roll about in the mud around midday. Raff and I’ll probably spend most of the afternoon cleaning him up.”
Hank nodded. “Caleb, can you check all the first aid? I’ll get Raff to pack the tack box afterwards. That about covers it, I think.” He directed an inquiring glance at his partner. “I’m heading over to the breeding shed. Gaspar’s going to tease Midnight. She should be coming into heat any day now. Want to come?” Caleb nodded and Hank turned to Cassie. “How about you, Cassie?”
“Uh, no thanks. I’m going to take care of Hot Lips before Sophie and Jamie show up.” Cassie begged off hurriedly. Teasing was a standard breeding procedure. In order to determine whether a mare was ready for breeding, in estrus, the mare was led into a narrow enclosure and held there as the stallion was presented to her. The handlers would bring both horses close enough to smell the other. If the mare was in heat, or about to enter her cycle, she would, as Cassie often thought of it, assume the position, by lifting her tail up and to the side.
Standing next to Caleb and watching as one of the stallions was used to tease a mare was simply more than Cassie thought her nerves could bear. It was way too erotically charged. She knew right down to the marrow of her bones that she’d feel much too much empathy for the poor aroused mare. And she could just imagine how hard Hank and Caleb would laugh if suddenly Cassie’s knees buckled and she collapsed, overcome. A situation she most definitely wanted to avoid.
Cassie made her way to her own mare’s stall, congratulating herself on escaping certain embarrassment. Never mind that the message in Caleb’s eyes as she’d left Hank’s office couldn’t have been clearer if he’d written it in indelible ink on the wall: Cassie the Coward!
18
S he’d poured herself an extra glass of wine at dinner the night before, but it hadn’t helped. She’d still tossed and turned for most of the night and had sprung out of bed at four-thirty, awake and ready to go. Her internal clock didn’t seem to care that her first event with Orion wasn’t for another seven hours.
Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, the cold of the wooden floorboards made her toes curl. Outside her window the sky was black, but it would be pointless returning to bed. She was up, she was ready. And she couldn’t wait for the moment when she and Orion would enter the show ring. Rubbing her face with her hands, she wiped away the last vestiges of sleep. Her fingers spread, raking through her tangled hair pushing it back so it fell in a tumble down the length of her back. She padded into the bathroom.
After indulging herself in a long, hot shower, she emerged to clouds of steam wafting about her. The air cleared as she reentered her bedroom. From the dresser beside her bed, she pulled out an old pair of grey sweat-pants, a T-shirt, and a cardigan and went downstairs to fix coffee and breakfast.
* * *
Caleb found her on the porch some forty-five minutes later a large, brightly painted ceramic cereal bowl sitting empty beside her bare feet and a cup of coffee cradled in her lap.
“’Morning. Any coffee left?”
“I think so. This is my second cup, but there should still be enough. Put some more on, in any case. Thompson should be down soon.”
Caleb bent down to grab the empty bowl and caught a hint of the floral scent that was Cassie’s. Straightening slowly he angled his head close to the delicate shell of her ear. Strands of still damp curls tickled his nose.
He inhaled slowly. “Mmm, I love the way you smell, Slim . . . Come to think of it,” he added, as his lips nibbled the curve of her lobe, “I love the way you taste, too. All in all, you’re not too bad to look at, either.”
She suppressed the shudder of pleasure at the sensation laying siege to the delicate skin of her ear, allowing him to continue a second more, as frissons of delight ran up and down her spine. Then, worried that her brain would start to sizzle, too, Cassie drew her neck back against the rocker breaking the contact.
“Gee, thanks, Romeo.” She rubbed her arms briskly in an attempt to control her shivers. Far better to pretend that her trembling came from the cool morning air rather than the helpless and immediate reaction her body had to his presence. She hoped Caleb wouldn’t glance down and see that her nipples had turn
ed pebble hard against the wool of her sweater.
He did. His smile widened. “My pleasure, Slim.” Still smiling, he straightened, male satisfaction written plainly across his features as he pulled the screen door open and headed into the house.
Only seconds passed before the bright chirruping of the birds was interrupted by Finnegan’s excited yelps, indicat ing Caleb had entered the kitchen. As the noise didn’t last long, Cassie assumed Caleb had dug out one of the many rawhide bones from the huge container Mr. O’Mally had brought over to the house to keep the dog happily occupied. Of course, given the speed at which Finnegan devoured them, the distraction only lasted about fifteen minutes.
Life certainly would be different when Finnegan went back home with Mr. O’Mally. The twins would be despondent without him. Finnegan had become like one of the family. And Cassie knew that Mr. O’Mally would really miss his visits here.
She wondered what excuse he would come up with to continue seeing Thompson—as if he needed one. Cassie was more than delighted that Thompson had found someone to spark her interest.
The screen door banged again behind her and Caleb hunkered down to sit on the step near her rocking chair a mug of black coffee in one hand and a slice of Thompson’s banana bread in the other. Cassie watched the top of his head as he alternately munched and sipped. The dark, tousled waves in his hair were temptingly glossy. She imagined their silky thickness sliding between her fingers. A pleasurable warmth spread through the pit of her stomach as she continued her silent perusal. Everything about Caleb’s body seemed made to order. If she’d been asked to describe her fantasy man, Caleb would fit the bill perfectly—from the strong column of his neck; his long and dexterous hands; his broad muscular shoulders; his deep, melting brown eyes; to his utterly wicked smile. And that was just part of the dazzling inventory.
“So . . . you ready for it, Slim?”
“Uh, sure. Guess so.” Startled out of her reverie, Cassie stammered, a blush creeping upwards from the base of her neck, unsure at first what Caleb was referring to. Could Caleb have read her thoughts, he would have been deeply gratified to know just how ready Cassie was. There were moments these past few days, when Cassie had been sorely tempted to throw herself at Caleb, to beg him to finish what he had been promising all these weeks. Sheer force of will, mixed in with a dose of innate shyness, had held her back.
Oblivious to the true nature of Cassie’s thoughts, Caleb nodded, popping the last bite of banana bread into his mouth. Pivoting so his long legs stretched across the wood step, his gaze lifted, meeting hers.
“We should hit the road in about a half an hour. Might be some weekend traffic on the interstate. You going to the show like that?” His eyes dropped to take in her bare feet and sweatpants.
Cassie wiggled her toes. “Seems a shame to stick them in a pair of boots on such a nice day. Perhaps I’ll create a new riding trend and jump on Orion bareback and barefooted.”
Caleb grinned. “No doubt the judges would love that. Of course, Hank might have a heart attack. He’s such a stickler for these kinds of things. You know he even had Raff braid Orion.”
She gave a small but dramatic sigh. “Well, if Orion’s in formal attire, I suppose I shouldn’t upset Hank. Boots it’ll have to be.”
Both Cassie and Caleb turned at the squeak of the screen door opening behind them. Thompson emerged, already dressed for the day in a knee-length denim skirt, white canvas sneakers, and a buttercup yellow knit sweater. Caleb rose to his feet. He probably didn’t even realize how rare it was these days to see such unconscious chivalry Cassie thought, a smile hovering on her lips. Better not to point it out though, otherwise he might try to stop being so uncommonly gallant.
“I can just tell it’s going to be a beautiful day! When did you wake up, Cassie? I didn’t even hear you go down. Good morning, Caleb. What’s the matter don’t you two believe in sleeping?”
“I always wake up early on the mornings of shows, Thompson. You should have seen me when I was little. You’d have thought it was Christmas every weekend I had a show with Topper. Hardly slept a wink. Mom and Dad gave up trying to convince me of the benefits of a good night’s sleep on show days. I just can’t do it.”
“And what’s your excuse?” Thompson directed an inquiring glance at Caleb, who had sunk back down to his spot on the porch step.
He flashed an easy grin, opting against telling them just how much he liked being in bed, although not necessarily for sleep.
“Just wanted to get a run in before we set off. No fair Cassie being the only one to get any exercise around here.”
“Don’t go blaming me. You could have chosen to drive to the show later.”
“Hey I’m not complaining. I like getting up.” And it’s beginning to seem like I’m always “up” when I’m around you, Slim, Caleb added silently.
“I’d better go check my gear bag one last time. Thompson, you sure you’ll be all right on your own? Also please don’t feel the three of you have to drive all the way to the show if you get busy with other things. Some of the other shows will be closer to home.” She glanced at Caleb, who nodded his head in confirmation. “You, Sophie, and Jamie can come to one of those.”
“We’ll see how determined the twins are to see you,” Thompson replied equably. “It’s not that long a drive if they fall asleep on the way back.”
“That’s a pretty big if,” Cassie replied laughing as she rose from the rocker. “I’ll be ready in a bit.”
“Okay. I’m going to take Finnegan out so Bessie doesn’t have to deal with him, too.”
“Thank you, Caleb. That’s very thoughtful of you, but I’m sure it’s not necessary.” Thompson’s face colored faintly. “Francis mentioned he’d drop by sometime this morning, it being the weekend and all.”
Caleb nodded, his eyes twinkling. “Now Bessie, why doesn’t that surprise me. Cassie, you think Bessie might be putting something special in Mr. O’Mally’s food? The man acts like he’s bewitched.”
Cassie laughed as she pulled open the door. “Shame on you, Caleb. Thompson doesn’t need any magic potions. With her looks and her cooking, I’m surprised there aren’t more men knocking on our door.”
“You’ve got a point there.”
“Oh, stop it, you two. You’re being ridiculous.” But the rosy blush upon her cheeks was a fair indication of just how tickled Thompson was.
Laughing silently, Caleb followed Thompson back into the kitchen. Finnegan rose from his dog bed to greet them, his stubbed tail thumping back and forth like a crazed metronome. Caleb opened the back door, and the dog brushed past him to reach the backyard.
Hard to believe he was almost road kill a few weeks ago, Caleb thought to himself. If it weren’t for the shaved areas that had yet to grow back completely and the fact that he was still moving somewhat gingerly, it would be difficult to guess that the boxer had suffered anything so traumatic as being hit by a car. Caleb followed the dog outside, reflecting happily that in a few more weeks Finnegan would be as good as new.
He waited patiently as Finnegan performed his dog chores: sniffing every bush on the property thoroughly carefully, as if it held the secret to the meaning of life, then covering a particular twig or leaf with his own mark, delineating his territory and adding to the complex bouquet for the next animal to decipher. A job Finnegan performed with heart and soul.
Caleb gave a sharp whistle, followed by, “Here, Finnegan,” and the dog obediently followed him into the house.
Thompson was busy setting the table for breakfast. Small plates, cereal bowls, and glasses for milk and juice. It was just past six, so the twins would be coming down any time now. Caleb walked over to the coffeemaker for a refill. Cup in hand, he pulled a chair out from the kitchen table. A mischievous smile hovered about his lips as he lifted the rim to his lips.
He drank deeply then spoke. “Uh, Bessie, I’ve been meaning to talk with you for some time now but we’ve all been rushing around so. How are things going?”<
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“Oh, just fine, thank you, Caleb.” Thompson gave a puzzled smile.
“You’re feeling comfortable here, not too lonely?”
“Why, of course not. There’s Cassie and Jamie and Sophie . . .”
“And of course, Mr. O’Mally ” Caleb interrupted with a roguish grin. “He’s been keeping you company an awful lot lately.”
Thompson stopped in midstride from table to counter and spun around toward Caleb, her hands on her hips, arms akimbo, her face indignant.
“Caleb Wells, just what are you implying? Let’s remember whose patient is boarding at this house. It’s hardly my fault the man wants to come and visit his sick dog.”
Man, he’d ruffled her feathers pretty fast. Bessie must really like him. Grinning widely he rocked the chair back on its hind legs, then lowered it to rest on all four once again. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Whoa, there. I simply wanted to find out your feelings toward Mr. O’Mally. He’s been a good client and I’d hate for him to have his heart broken.”
“Go on with you. Francis is in no danger of falling in love with me. He’s a charming man.”
“Yeah, he is a nice man. Like I said, one of my best clients. You know Thompson, there’s something about him, he kind of reminds me of someone, know what I mean?”
“Henry Fonda. Especially when he smiles,” Thompson replied with such alacrity that Caleb almost burst out laughing. Henry Fonda? Yup, when a woman started comparing a man to a movie star it was fair to say she was a goner.
“Right. I don’t know how I missed it. Well, he certainly seems to be smiling a whole lot more these days, Bessie. And I think it has more to do with your pretty face than with your pineapple upside-down cake.”
Thompson blushed furiously. Before she could formulate a reply however, Caleb was on his feet, moving to the door. “Gotta run now Bessie. But remember don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
