Throbbing like a sore tooth, Cassaundra Reynolds pulled off highway ___ onto Meander Road

by Susan Shay

  Secrets aren’t always a good thing, Keegan wanted to tell Miriam, but quickly reminded himself that she was an adult, standing in her own bookstore, with her own apartment house. She was a grown, responsible woman.

  And he was an antsy, nervous big brother.

  Cassie tugged on his arm. “I guess we’d better go, Keegan.” Stepping in front of him, she quickly pulled Miriam into a tight hug, their cheeks touching.

  Following suit, he gave his sister a quick peck on the forehead. “If you need anything, call on my cell. Okay?”

  With a happy, confident smile, Miriam nodded, then closed and relocked the door.

  “Well, I guess we’d better go.” Cassie tipped her head toward his car.

  More unsure than ever whether they should leave, he hesitated. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

  Cassie stilled and pulled inside herself. After a moment of dark wandering, she crept her thoughts toward Miriam. When a sigh of contentment from Miriam’s imprint slipped into her own heart, she nodded. “She’ll be fine. She’s with someone she trusts.”

  His firm chin jutted stubbornly forward. “Yeah, but my sister’s intuition isn’t always the best. Just look at that loser she married.”

  Wishing she could touch him, reassure him, Cassie decided to let her words comfort him instead. “Oh, no, Keegan. Her instincts are very well developed, and even better, she’s learning to believe in them. To depend on them.”

  His growl, coming from deep in his chest, almost made her laugh. Such a loving sibling was something she’d longed for all her life. To have just one person who cared so much, who prized you so deeply, would make life sweet.

  But her only sister had been relieved to see her move out of the house. Her own parents had been afraid of her—not what she could do, but of what her crazy visions might do to their reputations if anyone learned of them.

  As proof, she thought of the time she’d spent in hospitals and the few family visits she’d had. As the testing continued, and her condition became harder to understand, the visits dwindled until she saw them hardly at all. Then when she’d frightened the nurses with her visions, and the doctor requested permission to send her even farther from home for more in depth testing, her parents okayed the request without question.

  Only her mother had come to see her before she left, and then she’d fretted someone would find out what was happening to her elder daughter. So Cassie traveled to that far away city alone. She lived through the homesickness alone. And she’d suffered the psychic testing alone.

  And she’d learned, to her family at least, a good name and social standing were more to be desired than a daughter who was different.

  “So, how about that dinner you promised me?” he asked as they walked back to the car.

  Laughter at his words bubbled through her, and relief over Miriam made her playful. “I promised you? Uh, I beg your pardon, but I think it was the other way around. You invited me, remember?”

  His confused frown was almost comical enough to make her laugh out loud. “I don’t think so.”

  “Sure, you did. ‘And if you’re feeling better, I’ll fix you dinner,’ were your exact words. Don’t you remember?” Widening her eyes in feigned innocence, she pressed her nails into her palm behind her to keep from laughing.

  After a moment, a twinkle appeared in his eyes. “Well then, a promise is a promise. What’ll it be, lobster or crab legs?”

  Unable to hide it any longer, she chuckled. “Okay, maybe you didn’t say that, exactly, but I’ve been hoping for some of those delicious Keegan-burgers Miriam has raved about since I first got to know her.”

  “Charcoal hamburgers this time of year? Don’t you know it’s only three days to Thanksgiving?” He gave her a mock frown. “What’s wrong with you, woman?”

  “I believe in good food any time of year.” She smiled, hoping to coax the frown off his face. “And if you’ll do the honors, I’ll help.”

  The frown disappeared. “Sounds good to me. We’ll have to stop by the store on the way home, of course.”

  She got into the car, then buckled her seatbelt. “I understand you only use freshly ground chuck, not plain old frozen hamburger meat.”

  As he got in and buckled his seatbelt, self-reproach flashed briefly on his face before he replaced it with a wide grin. “Well, it doesn’t have to be freshly ground, as long as it’s chuck. But I used to tell Miriam that so she’d make me go to the store. She was too shy to ask the butcher to grind the meat for her.”

  Curious, Cassie pressed the issue. “But why did you want to go to the store? Cute butcher?”

  “Naw. It was because she was also too shy to buy beer, so if I didn’t go, I didn’t get any. And what’s a good burger without beer?” Lifting his shoulder with the question, he started the car and shifted into reverse. “Speaking of Thanksgiving, does Miriam still celebrate like Aunt Hattie used to?”

  Watching the light and shadows as they danced across the planes of his face, she almost lost her train of thought. The guy wasn’t TV handsome, but there was something about his spirit that made him more than merely attractive. “I-I don’t know. I wasn’t here when Aunt Hattie was alive. But everyone in the house is invited to the dinner. Miriam and I fix the turkey and side dishes together in the meeting room kitchen, which is really easy since Steve insisted on double ovens and a professional stove. Miss Ruthy and Miss Marcie make the desserts, Mack mixes the punch and fixes coffee and tea, and Vernon makes the yeast rolls.”

  Keegan shot her a glance. “You’re kidding. A retired sheriff who makes yeast rolls? I can’t believe it. I figured he was too macho to even know how to spell kitchen.”

  She thought about the cozy time they’d had the year before. “Last time, as a special surprise, Vern made butter and supplied us with wild honey to go on the rolls. Mack almost cried, it tasted so good. ‘Just like when I was a kid,’ he said.”

  “Hmm. I can’t compete with that kind of culinary expertise, so instead of trying, I might take a quick trip to New Orleans for a little vacation over the long weekend.” Without looking at her, he paused for a moment. “I’ll take you with me...if you’d like to...”

  As his voice faded, her heart pounded against her ribs. What was he saying? Or not saying? I’ll take you if you’d like to keep me company? Sleep with me? Make love with me? Or was he simply asking if she’d like to make the loneliness of the holiday easier?

  And why had he chosen New Orleans? How had he known that it was a city she’d read about, planned about, dreamed about, but had never visited? How wonderful it would be to go there with someone who loved her and whom she loved. But go there with someone who just wanted a warm body so he wouldn’t have to be alone?

  “If you took off for New Orleans now, Miriam would kill you. Besides as her brother, you would be a welcome guest at our dinner. We wouldn’t expect you to bring a thing.” She gave him her best Cheshire Cat smile. “Except your shining personality so you could entertain us.”

  “Oh, gee. Don’t put any pressure on me,” he teased.

  “No pressure. Just don’t let us get bored.”

  After stopping at a red light, he sent a look her way that melted her bones to warm honey. “I can guarantee you wouldn’t get bored with me in New Orleans.”

  I’m more than sure of that. She barely stopped the words before they escaped. What was wrong with her, practically letting thoughts take on a life of their own? Was it because he was the first man who’d ever made her feel desired for herself, and not her body? But that was silly, since she knew what he wanted. And it wasn’t her body. Or herself.

  His aim was to tell the world she was a psychic. And then prove that she was a fake.

  What she’d done earlier had been inexcusable. Telling him about her childhood. About the fall. About the enlightenment.

  If Miriam’s guest entering the bookstore hadn’t startled her, she’d probably have told Keegan all about her dreams and visions, too. She’d never told anyone else
so much about herself—not even Miriam. So why was she spilling her guts to Keegan?

  Self-destruction had never before been part of her plan.

  Chapter Five

  Miriam rolled onto her back and, without opening her eyes, groped for the alarm to shut off the irritating buzz. Maybe she should spend some time shopping for a new one that would wake her with soft music or a gentle voice telling her it was time to get up and have a glorious day. Or maybe she could get rich by inventing one.

  With a groan, she realized she was procrastinating. Forcing first one eye open, then the other, she blinked away the grit. Lord, she’d been out too late last night.

  As the memory flooded her mind, she hugged herself, then rolled onto her face to smother the building squeal in her pillow. She’d had a wonderful time. So what if they’d stayed at the store with most of the lights off all evening? So what if they couldn’t go where people might know them? So what if they had to sneak around as if they were keeping a dirty secret?

  For once in her life, she didn’t care. She wasn’t about to confide in Cassie or Keegan—they would only try to talk her out of it. And she wasn’t going to let them. She was going to throw caution to the wind, shove the niggling little worries out of her mind, and, at long last, have a good time.

  Setting her jaw, she climbed out of bed and headed for her bathroom. Maybe, if she was lucky this morning, she could beat Keegan so he would have a lukewarm shower, instead of her.

  Rather than use up all the hot water as she planned, she showered quickly, then, snug in her terry robe and slippers with her favorite white towel with pink flowers wrapped around her head, she stepped out of her room. As she scuffed toward the kitchen, the rich fragrance of brewing coffee filled the air. Surprised, she hurried in to find Keegan at the stove. “What are you doing?”

  Dressed in denims and an old T-shirt, he shot her a quick smile before turning back to the frying bacon. “Breaking stallions, Sis. What’s it look like?”

  Giving him a loving punch in the shoulder, she laughed softly. “But I usually fix breakfast. Why are you taking my job?”

  “As late as you were last night, I thought you’d probably still be sleeping, and I didn’t want to starve. Besides I figured you could use the nourishment.” He laid down the fork, then leaned against the cabinet and gave her a straight look. “So, who was it?”

  Unwilling to share a single precious moment of the magical evening, she allowed a thrill to linger down her spine. “Oh, someone you don’t know.” At least not very well.

  “Does he have a name?” Keegan asked pointedly, his easy smile dissolving.

  “Of course he does.” Hoping to divert the conversation, she nudged her brother aside, then stooped to look into the oven. “Wow, biscuits, too. You’re the best, Bubba. Homemade?”

  A sour look on his face, he nodded. “Aunt Hattie’s recipe—I bought the buttermilk last night. But don’t change the subject. Who was with you?”

  Closing the oven door, she turned to face him. Unable to keep it inside any longer, she sighed. “I’m not going to tell you who it was. It’s my business, I’m a grown woman, and we’ve decided to keep it a secret for a while.”

  He surprised her with a sharp nod, then started taking up the perfectly fried bacon in silence. While he made gravy, she moved around the kitchen, setting the table and pouring mugs of coffee. When everything was ready, she sat down to the best breakfast she’d had in months—since Steve moved out.

  Swallowing the pain, she looked at Keegan’s face to see how mad he was. Surprised at his lack of anger, she took a bite. “Ummm, Keegan. I think this is better than Aunt Hattie made.”

  At his half-smile, she relaxed. Maybe he wouldn’t press her further about who she’d been with. “Well, Aunt Hattie taught me everything I know. I think it’s just been so long, you don’t remember how good it was.”

  It had been years since they’d spent so much time together, and in that time he’d added a few smile lines to his face and a heavier beard. Now, every morning, he needed to shave. “So, what’d you do last night?”

  He chewed for a moment. “Well, Cassie and I went to the store and bought ground chuck, buttermilk, and beer, then we came home and I charcoaled. She made coleslaw.”

  “You charcoaled? Are you kidding me? It’s almost Thanksgiving.” Gently, she laid her hand on his arm. “I’m glad you like her. I was hoping you’d be friends.”

  “I told her it was winter, but she said she likes good food any time of year.” Leaning back in the chair, he chuckled. “Cassie also tells me you still keep Thanksgiving the way Aunt Hattie did. You still fix dinner for all the poor lonely souls who live in the apartment house.”

  “Yeah, and sometimes for a few who don’t live here.” She struggled to hold back the tears burning her throat. “Last year, we had Sharon over, too.”

  “The woman who...was found floating in her pool?” He drew his brows together.

  Her throat so tight she couldn’t speak, Miriam swallowed hard, and even then her voice sounded croaky. “Yeah, her husband had just told her he was spending the holiday skiing with his girlfriend. It was the first she’d heard of the affair, and she was devastated. I couldn’t let her spend the day alone.”

  His answering nod was slight. “You always were soft-hearted, Sis.”

  “Yeah. Little did I know that in a few months, practically the same thing would happen to me.” But Steve hadn’t made a clean break. When she’d begged him to stay, he’d moved into Keegan’s room, then started dating in earnest. Until he’d found that whore he’d wanted to live with—and she’d lost her reason for living. The world had found out about their problems. And his infidelity. And that she was a loser.

  What other kind of woman would allow her husband to date while living in her house? Was so desperate for her husband’s love that she would let him walk over her heart just to keep him near and would take him back today if he’d just walk through the door?

  No other kind. Only a loser—like her.

  Wonderment filled her as her new love came to mind. It wasn’t the heart-shattering excitement of the first time, but she wasn’t a kid anymore either. The warmth of this relationship was worth a thousand of the other—roller coaster love.

  ****

  Cassie waited as Miriam unlocked her car, then slipped into the passenger seat. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive today?”

  “No. Consider riding with the boss a job perk. Besides, I don’t want to drive in that little Bug of yours. The weather’s getting cold and I’d freeze to death with that leaky top.” She set her purse and a plastic container in the backseat.

  “My top doesn’t leak,” Cassie protested, even though she knew Miriam was teasing. “Even in the hardest rainstorms, it’s dry as a sermon in there.”

  Miriam started the car and shifted into reverse. “Well, your heating system is lousy. It’s never warm by the time we get to work.”

  “Then it’s a good thing it doesn’t get cold around here, isn’t it?” Cassie glanced into the back seat at the container lying on the seat next to Miriam’s purse. “What’d you do, bring your lunch today?”

  Miriam flashed a grin. “Nope. I brought your breakfast.”

  “You did?” Craning her neck, Cassie tried to get a better look, but couldn’t see a thing. “What is it?”

  “Well, my sweet brother, the man who braved the cold last night to charcoal a hamburger for you, also arose early from his bed this morning to fix my breakfast. I had bacon, biscuits, and gravy.” Her smile shifted to smirk mode. “You get the leftover biscuits.”

  “Thank you! Can I take my coffee break before we open?”

  Miriam’s chuckle filled her with happiness. It had been so long since her friend had smiled without lots of coaxing. Maybe she was getting used to the fact Steve found someone else, and was ready to find someone else for herself. With any luck, she already had. “So, did you have a nice time last night?”

  “Now, don’t you st
art.” Stopping at the light, Miriam glared at Cassie. “Or I’ll take back my biscuit offer.”

  Feigning innocence, Cassie blinked at her friend. “I was just...curious. Not starting anything.”

  Vehemently, Miriam continued. “Well, give it up. Keegan is the best interrogative reporter I know, and he couldn’t pry it out of me, so don’t think you can.”

  Cassie couldn’t hide the small smile that pulled at her lips. “You mean investigative, don’t you?”

  “You don’t know Keegan.”

  After letting themselves into the store, they went about their morning routine. Miriam locked the door behind them, dropped her keys in her pocket, then walked briskly to the office. While Cassie booted up the point of sale computer, then turned on the lights—her normal morning tasks—Miriam would open the safe to get the previous day’s receipts so she could balance the books, then set up the cash registers.

  With the lights burning brightly, Cassie turned to walk to the coffee shop so she could start the first pot of the day. Remembering the container Miriam had carried into the store, Cassie stuck her head into the office. “Would you like me to take those biscuits to the back for you?”

  “Hmm, let me see.” A smile teased Miriam’s lips. “I suppose so—just don’t eat all of them. I might want anoth—”

  The phone rang, stopping her mid-word. “Cyprus Creek Bookstore.” After listening for a moment, she waved a hand at Cassie. “Go ahead. I need to take this phone call.”

  Miriam had never been private about phone calls before, even when she and Steve were at their worst. Puzzled at her friend’s manner, Cassie took the biscuits from her desk and walked back to the coffee shop. She started the coffee and put two biscuits in the microwave to warm. Now if she only had some wild honey, she’d be in heaven. Where had Vernon gotten it for Thanksgiving last year?

  As soon as the timer signaled the biscuits were ready to eat, she smeared them with a little butter and jam, then poured herself a cup of fresh coffee. From her first bite, surprise resonated through her. Not only was it vastly different from the canned biscuits she’d always eaten—crispy on the bottom, soft and moist in the middle—but the entire time it was in her mouth, there was an effervescent quality. What in the world did he use to make bread taste as if it was filled with champagne?