by Susan Shay
His gaze warmed as his lips parted. “Come with me, Cassie. I’d take care of you, shield you.”
Her heart sank lower. “I can’t, Keegan. Try to imagine what it would be like for me out there, with all my protection gone. I’d be vulnerable to the world. At least here, I’m safe. Sheltered. I’ll miss you, though.”
With an intense look, he leaned closer, gripping her armrests. “I’ll be back.”
His words almost broke her heart. Yes, he’d be back, but it would never be the same. His visits would always be fleeting, while his mind was on his other life. And that life would be miles, and worlds, away.
She closed her eyes for a moment to force back the tears gathering there. How could he go? How could he leave her? Didn’t he know that she loved him with everything that was in her? That she would never be the same without him?
She took a shaky breath. “Don’t make promises, Keegan. Let’s just see where life takes us.”
His gaze became flinty, his jaw rock-hard. As she reached for his hand, he stood, moving out of her reach. “Fine. We’ll let life take it.”
All the way to the car, she wanted to speak. To ask him, or tell him, something. But what? There’ll always be a place in my heart for you? Right. But if he had a corresponding place in his heart for her, he wouldn’t be leaving.
She hid the sigh building inside her. So what if it made her feel better physically? Her heart wouldn’t stop aching. She doubted it ever would.
After he helped her into the car, he crouched beside her and spoke so only she could hear. “I do love you, Cassie Reynolds, and I’ll always love you. A hundred years from now, I’ll still be loving you—” and I’ll never love anyone else.
Startled, she realized he hadn’t spoken the last words aloud. She’d heard him in her head. Her heart. Her soul.
And never again, for the rest of her life, would she ever love anyone else.
****
Cassie sat in the office at the bookstore, while the competitive reading group—Linda, Terri, Tami, Julia, Jenny, and Suzanne—continued to run the place as efficiently as they had for the last week. She really wasn’t needed there, but she couldn’t stand being at the apartment house for one minute more. Everyone there was preparing for Steve and Miriam’s wedding, and she was just damned tired of all the heartfelt sighs. And the smiles. And the laughter.
The last straw had been when Steve started erecting a rented archway in the courtyard that would later be entwined with flowers. She couldn’t help herself—she was just plain jealous. With all her heart, she wished she could be preparing for her wedding. Getting ready to spend her life with Keegan. With everything Miriam had been through, she deserved to be happy. Deserved to have the man she’d loved forever as her husband, loving her back.
But why didn’t Cassie deserve it, too? That thought made her feel petty and guilty, so she was better off at the store. Pretending to do something constructive. With a sigh, she shifted her thoughts to Mack.
Plans had been made to place his birdhouses in that same courtyard—when the police released them—as a monument to the women who’d lost their lives. And to the man who’d long ago lost his to the evil that began with his mother.
The police had found a journal in the basement, written at first in a woman’s hand, Mack’s mother’s, and then in Mack’s.
At the beginning, she had written about a minister who’d told her that God had sent him into their lives because she was an unwed mother. As a sinner, she wasn’t fit to raise a child on her own. He was doing God’s will. Then the minister had molested her for several months before starting on her son. Cassie suffered the mother’s anguish and guilt through the shocking words that had spilled out on the page. She’d even perceived the changes this evil man had set into motion.
She’d written about lying in her bed, listening to her son’s torment, and not knowing what to do. If she’d told anyone, they wouldn’t have believed her. After all, she was a sinner. An outcast. And he was a well-respected minister.
Then God had “spoken” to her, and she’d started slowly poisoning the man. Soon he became so sick, he only came to the house every few days, then several weeks would slip by without a visit.
And when the man died, she took Mack with her to the funeral.
After that, the journal started containing orders in it for the Anointed of God, “from” God himself. According to the date, Mack couldn’t have been more than three years old when, as the Anointed of God, he’d been ordered to kill his kitten, a pet that he’d grown to love more than God and his mother. Next there’d been a neighbor’s dog that had disturbed his mother while at her prayers.
There was a record of his punishments as well. Burning his arm at the stove for touching it was just the beginning. He’d been beaten with a rod—a heavy stick from a tree—which had marred his back for life. She’d even recorded the length of time it took to heal each time she beat him and about the pattern the scars made.
Just before she died, she wrote a last entry. She was being called home by God, because Mack had failed to obey His divine orders to stay away from a woman he’d been dating. Then, apparently, his mother had committed suicide.
There was a space of time when nothing was written in the journal, then God sent a new order, in Mack’s writing. It wasn’t long after that he listed the first “daughter of Eve” who had been kidnapped, and cleansed of her sins.
Cassie took a deep breath, glad her stitches were out. Poor Mack. The good part of him had been so nice, it was hard to believe he’d been the man he was. She’d read about split personalities, and all along he’d been there, living in the same apartment building with her.
And now he was buried out on Cemetery Hill.
Pulling her thoughts back to the present, she looked at the pile of cover flats that lay on the desk, then shoved them across the smooth surface as her mind boomeranged back to the wedding.
Steve had joked that he planned to cover Miriam’s wheelchair with flowers for the wedding, assuring his bride that if there were enough blossoms, no one would notice the wheels. He’d made a big change in himself after less than a week. Cassie only hoped it lasted.
Everyone treated Miriam and her as if they were made of glass, and Miss Marcie like the heroine she was for helping Keegan find them. But no one spoke of Keegan.
They acted as if they were afraid to remind her he wasn’t there anymore. As if she needed reminding. And no one, not even Miriam, knew exactly where he was.
At least she’d finally convinced Janneth and Howard to go home. It hadn’t been hard when Alexandra had called and said she’d broken her engagement and was going back to college—to get a degree in criminal justice. Her spoiled, selfish sister wanted to be a cop, and that was all it took to make Janneth forget Cassie existed.
Sympathy for Alexandra nudged Cassie. After all, she’d had to live under Janneth’s control her entire life. When Alexandra was out of Janneth’s reign for a few days, she’d made a decision that was so out of character with the daughter Janneth had tried to craft, it had to be a bid for independence.
With all her heart, Cassie wished Alexandra the best of luck. If she really wanted to be a good policewoman, and had half of Janneth’s resolve, there was no doubt she’d be a great one.
From the way Janneth had carried on, you’d have thought there had been a death in the family, rather than one of her children avoiding a bad marriage. But with Janneth, it had always been about the wedding, the show, rather than the marriage. It always would be.
Closing her eyes, Cassie tried to forget her shallow mother and her daily duty calls. Each day, after telling her mother she was healing well, she had to listen to Janneth complain about Alexandra and giggle about her “new” relationship with Howard.
Trying to put Janneth out of her mind, Cassie restacked the scattered cover flats. As the door chime sounded, she glanced up, hoping it was someone who needed her “expert” assistance. Instead, it was Vern and Miss Ruthy. Unsure whether to greet them
or try to find a place to hide, she shuffled through the brightly colored flats, pretending she was busy.
Vern escorted Ruthy directly into the office. “How are you feeling, young’un?”
Forcing a smile, she swiveled the chair to face them. “You didn’t have to come down here to check on me. Honestly, I’m fine.”
“Oh, we didn’t.” Miss Ruthy perched on the edge of a chair. “We left because Marcie was getting ready to make another liver and whey smoothie, and we couldn’t bear to watch her force poor Miriam to drink another one.”
“I think I’d rather be back in the dugout than have to drink another one of those.” Cassie didn’t try to stifle the shudder traveling down her spine.
“Can’t say as I blame you.” Vern stumped over to sit on the other free chair, his face grim. “I am sorry all this happened. Being retired law enforcement, you’d think I’d have figured him out.”
“How could you? He was two different people, living in one body. Even I couldn’t read it in him, he was so totally divided.” She tried again to make Vern understand. “It was as if he had a hole dug inside him, where all that evil lived. The real Mack, the one we knew, would have killed himself before hurting anyone. It’s just, as the Anointed took over, Mack was slowly dying. I’m sure he intentionally ran down that booby-trapped tunnel when the escape route was only steps away. He suddenly saw what he’d been doing. And he couldn’t live with it.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Vern stood, then glanced at Ruthy. “What do you say I buy you one of those choco-whatever things that Steve and Miriam keep talking about so Cassie can get back to work?”
“Oh, good. Maybe it’ll wipe out the memory of that awful smoothie Marcie made me taste.” Miss Ruthy pushed to her feet.
“You didn’t let her bully you into drinking one of those?” Vern took Ruthy’s arm as they started for the door. “I can’t believe you let her push you around the way you do.”
“Are you okay?” Tami asked from the doorway, moments later. “You aren’t getting tired, are you?”
Only of having people hover over me. “No, I’m fine.”
Tami tilted her head. “So where did Miriam’s brother go? I thought you two might...” She wagged her eyebrows suggestively.
“I don’t know where he is. When he left here, he went to Denver, but that was a week ago. He could be anywhere now.” Trying to act as if her heart wasn’t broken and aching, Cassie shrugged. “You know, Vern and Ruthy were just talking about having a chocolotta, and it sounded really good. Have any of you learned to make one yet?”
Tami laughed. “We get it done, but they aren’t as good as what you and Miriam make. I’ll be back with one for you in about ten minutes. Maybe you can tell me what we’re doing wrong.”
Finally alone, she tried to go back to work, but her mind wouldn’t cooperate. Her throat tightened, making it hard to breathe. Where was Keegan? Was he still in Denver? Had he made arrangements to move on?
When the bell at the front rang, Cassie wished she’d asked someone to close the office door. Although the people of Stone Hill were well-meaning, she really didn’t want to chat with one more person about what she’d been through. Looking at the flats, she swiveled her chair so her back faced the door.
Then something warmed her. As real as a touch, the feeling was so familiar, she lost her grip on her work, letting it slide off her lap to scatter across the floor. It couldn’t be—
“Cassie.” His voice, warm with love, flowed over her, filling her heart.
She turned to see Keegan standing in the doorway. She blinked hard. He gave her a hesitant smile. Was he there, or was he one of her visions?
She couldn’t stay in her chair as, in slow motion, he moved toward her. “Is it okay if I come in?”
She swallowed hard, but her voice was still thin. Raspy. “It’s your sister’s office. You can if you want.”
Lowering his chin, he caught her gaze and held it. “But what do you want, Cassie?”
Her chest tightened, making it nearly impossible to breathe. And when she did, the air caught fire. Opening her mouth, she tried to answer, but couldn’t speak.
What she wanted was him. In her arms. In her life. Forever.
Moving so close she could smell the leather of his boots, he took a shaky breath. “Do you want me to apologize for leaving? I do, for everything. For leaving, when I should have stayed. For not knowing what I wanted. For not knowing that I couldn’t go anywhere or be anything if I didn’t have you. Do you think you can forgive me?”
Lifting both hands, she ran her palms over the stubble on his jaws, then glided the pad of her thumb along his lips. Her heart slammed in her chest and her breath was as short as if she’d just run a race. “What are you doing here?” she gasped.
His smile was gentle. Understanding. “I couldn’t go on, so I came back to where I belong.”
“You mean to Stone Hill?” she asked, wanting to hear him say it once more.
He shook his head. “No. I came back to you.”
She couldn’t read him. Couldn’t see past the glittering shower blinding her to everything. “But I thought you had to move on to your next job.”
“When I walked in here and saw you that first time, I’d lived with the dark side of life for so long, I didn’t believe in anything. Not in love, or God, or psychics, or human kindness. I’d changed jobs over and over, searching, but proving each time that nothing was real. And then I met you. You showed me the kindness I didn’t think existed, and after falling for you, I couldn’t deny love any longer. When I thought I’d lost you and Miriam, I found myself praying to a God that I’d always refused to acknowledge. And I found out that psychics really do exist.
“I left, but it was habit. The old cycle of moving on so I could continue my search. When I got to Denver, I started looking for another job, but then I finally dawned on me. My search is over. I’ve found everything I thought didn’t exist. And I found them all in you.”
“So I chucked my new job before I accepted it and called Pete Sanders. It took a lot of talking. I had to borrow from everyone I know, and a few people I don’t, but I was able to get enough money together to buy The Sentinel.” He shrugged as his gaze dropped away. “I’ll probably have to live over the newspaper office for a few years. I had to buy the building, too.”
Unable to control the smile pulling her mouth wide, she slipped into his arms.
“But what about you? Won’t you get bored living in this small town?”
“It’s not about where I live. I can live anywhere, as long as I have you. But I don’t want you out in the world, where people can discover your gift and try to take advantage of it. Stone Hill is where you’re dug in. Where you’re safe.” Her heart filled with happiness as he slanted his lips over hers.
All her life she’d tried to disable her inner sight, yet hadn’t been able to. But in not having faith in anything beyond himself, Keegan had truly been blinded to life.
Her heart was bursting with love and her face damp with tears as she saw past the sparkling light that surrounded them. She would help him believe, as he hadn’t for so long, and he would help her share her gift without worry or consequences.
Holding her away from him, he gazed silently into her face. Will you marry me?
Unable to bear the distance between them, she pulled him close. Then she whispered gently in his ear. “With the life we have ahead? Of course, I will.”
A word about the author…
Oklahomans run in Susan’s family. They have since the opening of Oklahoma’s Cherokee Strip, when her great-granddad staked a claim on his 160 acres. Susan’s dad still lives there today.
Susan has had a passion for reading since she was a little girl. She started her storytelling career the day she realized she was an only child and needed someone to play with. Enter Arlie and Orlie, her two imaginary friends.
When her parents added four sisters and a brother to the family, Susan’s imaginary friends were shown
the door.
Susan married her own hero, and they had three sons on whom she honed her craft of storytelling.
Since then, Susan has sold children’s stories and short stories. Blind Sight is her second book for The Wild Rose Press.
When Susan is not home reading or writing, she is usually immersed in the family business.
Thank you for purchasing
this Wild Rose Press publication.
For other wonderful stories of romance,
please visit our on-line bookstore at www.thewildrosepress.com.
For questions or more information,
contact us at [email protected].
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