Upon entering the small chamber, Cassia found it to be cozy, furnished with a small wrought iron bed covered with a pink and white checked quilt, a night table, a small bureau, and a dressing table with a mirror atop. After gathering a comb and rubber bands from a wooden box kept on the bureau, Ruth Ann pulled out a chair from the dressing table and sat.
“This here dressin’ table was my ma’s, and before her it was my grandmama’s. But since it was too hard to get up those narrow stairs to Ma’s room, it became mine,” Ruth Ann boasted.
Cassia admired the mahogany wood vanity, framed by gold, ornate trim, and glass-ball drawer handles. “It is a lovely piece of furniture.”
Ruth Ann sat quietly, engrossed as she watched Cassia plait her hair. At each step of the way, she explained just where, when, and how much hair to add so Ruth Ann could accomplish styling the braid herself.
“I want to do what ya do,” Ruth Ann finally said.
“Well, if you pay attention to the way I form the weave, you will,” she said.
“No, I mean, the way ya help folks, ’specially women,” Ruth Ann said, her eyes meeting Cassia’s through the mirror. “I watched the way ya washed Alma Lee, tended to her needs, so gentle and kind. I want to do that for others too.”
“Well, it would mean you have to stay attending your classes at school, study hard, and get good grades so you can go on to further your education in the medical field.”
Ruth Ann turned to face her. “Soon school will be over for the summer, and I was wonderin’ if I could be yer assistant.”
The younger girl’s request totally took her by surprise. For a moment Cassia hesitated to agree, but she thought back to when she wasn’t much older than Ruth Ann and how Doctor Sean let her go with him on house calls when a child broke an arm or a baby was sick. His tutoring and guidance aided her when she finally made it to college. If Ruth Ann was serious about answering the call to work in the medical field, it was only fair and right for her to lend a constructive hand, as she had been given.
“Ruth Ann, I’d love for you to be my assistant.”
Ruth Ann’s face brightened. “Are ya speakin’ the truth, Nurse Holmes?”
“I am at that, and I know just the place where you can begin, after school is out, that is,” she added quickly.
“Please, tell me where I could start,” Ruth Ann pleaded.
“At the clinic,” she said. “I work there at least twice a week, and having another pair of hands to help with dressing wounds, taking temperatures, or recording patient information would be greatly appreciated.”
The younger girl stood, wrapping her arms around Cassia’s neck. “Oh, thank ya, thank ya, Nurse Holmes. And never fear, ’cause I plan on makin’ ya right proud of me.”
Gently she returned Ruth Ann’s embrace. “I have no fears whatsoever that you’ll do just fine.”
On the way home, Cassia did a bit of mental planning. She figured she could make it to the Boyd homestead each day by six in the morning to feed and bathe Alma Lee, so Trudy could spend the morning making sure John Tyler and Ruth Ann get off to school properly. She would still have plenty of time to make it back home before Brodie picked her up at eight-thirty for either house calls or clinic duties.
And the days she was on her own, she’d make sure nothing was scheduled, outside of having to go on emergency calls, before nine-thirty. No doubt, with such a pending schedule, she’d be exhausted and too tired to spend time with friends or family, but it was the only way to help the Boyds and Alma Lee get back to normal.
Preoccupied with her thoughts, she didn’t notice the wagon following her bicycle, until she heard a male voice call out, “Care for a ride, lady?”
Coming to a stop, she turned to find Tucker, his freckled face grinning from ear to ear, seated in a wagon about three feet behind her.
“Sorry if I startled you,” he said with a chuckle. “I was returning from an errand and decided to take a short cut home, when I saw you peddling away.” He brought the wagon to a halt beside her. “No sense riding all the way home on that,” he said, indicating the bicycle, “when I’m going right past your house.” He climbed down from the wagon and reached for the bicycle. “I’ll just put this in the back of the wagon while you hop up on the seat.”
As he handed her the medical bag, she found herself growing annoyed with his assumption she would automatically do whatever he said. If it weren’t for the fact the day, so far, had been a bit tiring and a glance at the sky showed the possibility of a shower, she would have protested. Biting her tongue, she nodded, placed the bag on the floor at the front of the wagon, and climbed into the seat. In no time he was beside her, navigating the way to her house.
“Were you coming from the Boyds’ house?”
“Yes, on a follow-up call,” she said, smoothening her skirt over her knees.
“I heard Alma Lee miscarried,” he went on.
“Yes,” she lied, quickly realizing that was the word going around about Alma Lee’s situation, and all the better for it. It wasn’t anyone’s business what really happened. Outside of Brodie and her parents, who wouldn’t gossip if their lives counted on it, Alma Lee’s false pregnancy would stay a secret between her family and her medical team. And if it weren’t for the fact Brodie had to know about Alma Lee’s mental state, she would have liked to keep that a secret as well.
Tucker shook his head. “Such a shame. That family has endured such sorrow.”
“Yes, they have.” She glanced ahead at the road.
He slowed the wagon and reached over to place his hand upon her arm. “Is there something wrong, Cassia?”
She met his gaze and forced a smile. “All is fine,” she lied. Then sighing heavily, she added. “Just worn out, I’d say. It’s been a busy week.”
“And here you are, working on a Saturday,” he concluded sympathetically.
“Yes…well, responsibilities must be met in my line of work. I knew that when I began.”
“What if you didn’t have to do this line of work?” He started the wagon moving faster again.
She frowned. “I do what I do because I like it.”
“What if there was something else? Another way for you to work in the medical field?”
Her frown deepened. “You mean regular shifts, as one would work in a hospital?”
“Yes, exactly. A set number of hours, whereby you could set your free time…life with a family, as a priority.”
“The only hospital around here is in Willow Creek which is too far away for daily travel.” She arched a brow. “And I certainly don’t want to live there.”
He pulled the wagon off the road and turned to face her. “Would you like to live in San Antonio, Texas?”
Again she frowned. “Why on earth would I…?”
“Because that’s where I’m headed in a few days,” he interrupted. “And I’d like you to come with me.”
She gasped. “What are you saying, Tucker?”
He neared her, taking her face into his large hands. His flesh felt rough against hers, calloused from his work. Yet they held her gently. “I made a big mistake leaving you behind. Now, with this second chance, I want to make things right again between us.”
“Tucker, I just can’t…”
This time the interruption of her words was smothered by his kiss. His warm, full lips sought her mouth with hunger. The lips she tasted in her dreams—wished for—yearned for the last five years, now caressed her lips with unbridled passion. This moment had woven over and over in her mind dozens of times. She waited for her heart to race, to dance, to leap with joy, but it didn’t. She thought her arms would embrace him, pull him close, but they didn’t. In fact, while Tucker kissed her, all she could think of was Brodie and how his mouth on hers stirred every fiber of her being.
Pulling back, she covered her mouth with her hand.
Tucker, stunned, searched her face. “What is it, Cassia?”
“We agreed to be friends, but…” she began.
He interjected with a raised brow. “But neither of us disagreed it couldn’t be more.”
“I know now, after…after…” She swallowed hard. “I know now,” she began again. “We can only be friends. I’m sorry,” she added. “I don’t anymore… I can’t… I’m not able to feel more toward you.”
His face fell with disappointment, his large green eyes filled with confusion—then hurt. “Why…what has changed your mind?”
“Brodie,” she whispered.
Chapter Twenty-One
Brodie watched his father, sitting ramrod straight in his seat, trying desperately to control the emotions running chaotically through him. His mother, biting her bottom lip, held back tears of frustration and embarrassment threatening her resolve. He sat at the kitchen table with them, a mixture of disappointment and disgust rising to choke him, as he tried to calmly process the situation. Sadly enough, he wasn’t shocked or even surprised with what he was hearing from the man sitting across from him.
Clayton Matthews, gray-haired, short and stocky, sat beside his young daughter. Nervously he twirled the handlebar mustache covering his upper lip. Except for Jessica Matthews’ soft weeping, the stillness enveloping the room was deafening. The young woman’s large amber eyes were red-rimmed, as was the dainty nose she continually dabbed with a handkerchief. Chocolate wisps of hair fell from her chignon, framing a pleasant face. And beneath her plain, modestly cut green dress, her stomach swelled with child…Tucker’s child. The Matthews had traveled all the way from San Francisco, California, to find Tucker and hold him accountable for his actions.
“Could I be pourin’ ye another cup of tea, Jessica,” his mother offered. Jessica declined with a shake of her head. “Perhaps then, ye would like to lie down a wee bit.”
“I’m fine, thank you, Mrs. O’Clarity,” the young woman’s soft voice claimed.
“I only sent me son on a few errands,” his father explained—again. “He should be back soon.”
Mr. Matthews nodded, squaring his shoulders with determination. “We’ll wait.”
He couldn’t blame the elderly man for his tenacity. If Jessica were his daughter, he’d go after the man who defiled her as well. With that thought in mind, he stood, going to the window. From this perspective he could see when Tucker rode onto the property. No doubt he’d head right for the barn, where he’d unhitch the horse from the wagon and settle him for the night.
Turning to face their guests, he forced a smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve some work to do in the barn.”
Mr. Matthews politely inclined his head. “Please don’t let us keep you from anything you need to do.”
Making his way to the back door, he reached for his cap hanging on a peg and headed toward the outbuilding. Once inside, he sat upon a bale of hay to think. Jessica Matthews was a child herself…not more than seventeen or eighteen, like Alma Lee Sloane. “Children having children,” he whispered. But that was the way of it. As soon as a girl hit puberty, she was conditioned to marry and birth babies. Except for the fact Jessica Matthews didn’t have the sanctity of a marriage license. His brother’s inconsideration and indiscretion had sullied her reputation.
He stood, removing his cap and running a hand through his hair. Placing the cap on the hay bale, he paced. “What in God’s name is wrong with you, Tucker?”
Both had been brought up in the same household, by the same parents. How was Tucker so irresponsible and selfish when he was the complete opposite? The sound of an approaching wagon froze him in his tracks, and he debated his next move. Should he warn his brother of what waited him in the kitchen, or let him walk unprepared into the lion’s den?
As soon as the wagon pulled into the barn, Tucker flew off the seat. “Damn you to hell, Brodie.” Tucker reached Brodie in two long strides and punched him in the jaw.
Caught off guard, Brodie stumbled back, crashing into several buckets lined against one side of the stall. He stopped himself only seconds before he hit the dirt floor. “What in God’s name’s gotten into you?” He rubbed the side of his face.
“All this talk about not hurting Cassia, caring about her, looking out for her, was all because you wanted her for yourself,” Tucker argued, shaking stinging knuckles from throwing such a blow. “When I tried to kiss her just now, she…”
Brodie’s face heated; he saw red. “You tried to kiss her?” In one fluid motion, he was upon his brother, taking him by the collar and jamming him up against the wall. “You listen to me, you selfish ingrate, you have no right whatsoever to touch Cassia Holmes.”
Tucker gripped Brodie’s wrists to push him aside. “I have just as much right as you do.”
“Wrong, little brother.” He tightened his hold. “I didn’t get Jessica Matthews pregnant. I would say that fact alone disqualifies you from making a commitment to Cassia, or any other woman for that matter.”
Tucker’s expression turned from angry to anxious. “How do you know about Jessica?”
“She and her father have paid our parents a little visit.” He released Tucker’s collar and stepped away. “Their conversing over tea right now. Well, truthfully, all Jessica’s managing to do is cry.”
Tucker’s voice shook “They’re here—now—all the way from California?”
He nodded, rubbing again his sore jaw. “They’ve been waiting for you all afternoon.”
“Holy crap,” Tucker spat. “Damn, damn, damn.” He turned to pace the barn. “I don’t even want to imagine what Ma and Pa are thinking.”
“Short of wanting to strip you naked, chain you to a wall, and beat the tar out of you, you mean?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Damn, damn, damn,” Tucker ranted again, picking up the pace. “What am I going to do, Brodie?”
“You’re going to face the situation like a man and make an honest woman out of that girl.”
Tucker stopped dead in his tracks. “That’s your solution…to marry a woman I don’t love?”
He arched a brow, suddenly picturing himself giving Tucker a well needed thrashing and fully enjoying it. “And what’s your plan? To run away?”
Tucker nervously combed his fingers through his hair. “Well, it beats marrying someone I don’t love.”
“Listen to me, Tucker,” he grounded out through clenched teeth. “That poor girl sitting in the kitchen right now is due in about two months to have a baby…your baby. How could you walk away from that—abandon them?”
“You don’t understand, Brodie,” Tucker whined. “I didn’t mean for all this to happen.”
Brodie’s fist’s clenched. “What the hell did you think was going to happen if you bedded her?”
“I don’t know… I reckon I didn’t think…” he stammered. “I just thought it would be like the other times.”
His nails dug into the palms of his hands. “You are a stinking louse. How could you be so rude, so disrespectful to other people’s feelings?”
Tucker squared his shoulders. “I didn’t do anything against anyone’s will.”
“Did you ever stop to think consent was due to the fact your conquests actually fell in love with you?”
“I promised them nothing,” Tucker quipped.
Brodie arched a brow. “And you believe that stops a woman’s heart from wanting…hoping for more?” He shook his head in disgust. “You’re an ass, Tucker—a full-blown, thoughtless ass.” He grabbed his brother by the arm. “And that sort of behavior ceases right now…with this girl and your baby.”
Tucker protested and tried to pull his arm free. “Brodie, let go of me. I don’t want…”
“This is no longer about what you want.” He tightened his grip. “It stopped being about your needs and wants when you compromised Jessica’s life—soiled her virtue and reputation. Now, for the first time in your life, you’re going to do what’s right. You’re going to marry that girl, raise your child, and stop humiliating our parents, because none of these people deserve what you’ve inflicted upon them.”
“All right, all right.” Tucker freed himself from Brodie’s grasp and raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. “But I walk into the house on my own like a man ready to stand up to his duty. Not dragged in by my older brother, like a bad child.”
“Well, Tucker, isn’t that what you are?” he snapped. “I mean, not more than ten minutes ago you were ready to flee to the hills.”
Tucker cleared his throat nervously. “Well, I’m not now, am I?”
He chuckled sardonically. “And that’s only because I won’t allow it.”
Straightening his collar, Tucker pouted. “You’re really going to make me do this?”
“You did this to yourself.” He reached for his cap and placed it upon his head. “Now, get your ass moving, little brother.” He pointed to the doorway. “Yonder your bride awaits you, and it’s not wise to keep a very pregnant woman and her irate father waiting.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cassia had heard of shotgun weddings but only thought of them happening someplace far off, like in the mountains between feuding clans. She could picture the father of a disrespected young girl, holding a shotgun on her lover while vows were exchanged, forcing him to make an honest woman of her. Never did she think she’d be witness to such a situation in her parlor. But within the hour, she’d be standing up, along with Brodie, as a witness to Tucker O’Clarity and Jessica Matthews’ nuptials, and her father would be the officiating clergy.
As she donned a light blue dress, her thoughts turned to earlier when Tucker asked her to leave with him, travel to Texas, before he kissed her. Now, his request and the kiss infuriated her. How could he, in good conscience, make such an intimate move toward her or ask her to go with him when he’d gotten another woman pregnant? How could he believe she’d agree to be just one more woman for him to use? And used she’d certainly be, for the request wasn’t a proposal of marriage.
Sitting at the dressing table to fix her hair, she searched her reflection in the large, round mirror. Truth be told, had Tucker offered her the same invitation eight years ago, she’d have complied. At fifteen that’s how enamored, how naïve and enchanted she was by him. She would have joined him anywhere, despite her age or her parents’ protest…at any cost…even given up her goals, just to be by his side. And no doubt, she’d now be the one in Jessica Matthews’ shoes. That thought caused chills to spiral down her spine.
The Last Bloom Page 17
