hitting the dry spot in his throat with a soothing rush. Then he put down the glass and stared at the melting ice. “This is hard for all of us.”
Teresa went back to wiping and putting things away. “Yep, I reckon it is. I should have warned her. I don’t like keeping things from her.”
“She wouldn’t have come if she’d known I was here.”
“And that’s why I didn’t tell her.”
That reality made Cal wince with a soul-deep pain but he fought it. He’d been fighting against it for so long now.
“Guess I’d better get back to work. I’ll check back in later.”
“You want to come for supper?”
He and Teresa had taken to eating their meals together, just in case Marcus took a turn for the worse. “No. I think it’d be better if I keep to myself for a while. Jack’s waiting for me in the east field. Soybeans need my attention today.”
Teresa didn’t say anything and her expression held no judgment. Maybe that was why Cal liked her and trusted her.
That and the fact that she was more like a mother to him than his own had ever been.
“Be careful out there,” Teresa said, as always. “Tell Jack to drink plenty of water.”
Teresa had a crush on the burly old field hand. As always, Cal saluted her. “It’s just tractors and dirt, Teresa. I think Jack and I can handle it.”
But they both knew managing a big plantation was about a lot more than tractors and dirt.
He turned toward the kitchen door that led out onto the back porch and came face-to-face with Cassie as she rounded the corner from the hallway. One look at her and his protective instincts picked right back up where they’d left off so long ago. “Are you all right?”
She reached toward the counter, her face pale and drawn, her eyes glazed into an icy blue. “No.”
The one word, whispered on a rushed breath, caused Cal to step forward and tug her close. “Here, sit down.”
She tried to push him away but he’d always been bigger and stronger. And she used to lean on him when she was afraid or tired.
She looked around, her eyes now wild. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay.”
“You’re not fine,” he said, guiding her to a high-backed chair by the window. “Teresa, can you bring her some water.”
He heard the faucet turning on, heard Teresa hurrying across the room. “Here, honey.”
Cassie looked up, her eyes turning the innocent blue of a confused hurt child. She took the water, sipped it for a minute, then handed it back to Teresa. “He’s really dying.”
Teresa shot a stern look toward Cal. “Yes, he is.”
Cassie glanced down at her hands. “I thought maybe it was just some kind of ploy, a trick to get me to come back. But he looks so sick. So small.”
Cal bent down in front of Cassie, forcing her to look at him. “He wanted you here but it took him a long time to admit it.” He shoved the glass of water back toward her. “He didn’t want to…go…with things the way they were between you two.”
She sipped the water then stared down at the glass. “Why didn’t he want me here while he was still alive enough to really spend time mending things between us? I would have come. I tried coming home, then when that didn’t work, I wrote to him, sent him cards, left messages. Then I gave up and got on with my life. But I would have been here if he’d only asked.”
Cal couldn’t explain that one. He’d often wondered the same thing. He knew why he wasn’t wanted here before now, but how could a man turn on his only daughter like that? Since returning, Cal had thought many times about calling her, but Marcus Brennan was a stubborn man. And Cal had to be honest. He’d been too bitter and hurt himself to ask Cassie to come back, especially when he knew she wouldn’t like being around him. And that she would hate him all over again when the truth came out.
“I don’t know,” he finally said. “All I know is that he asked us to get you home and you’re here now.” He looked up at Teresa. “We’re all here. We have to do our best for him.”
She stared at him as if she didn’t know him at all. “And how long have you been back?”
He didn’t dare lie about that. “A few months. Since last fall.”
“What else are you two keeping from me?”
Teresa busied herself with cleaning off the counter and moving a bowl of fresh fruit into place. Not bothering to address Cassie’s last question, she said, “I thought it best you didn’t know about Cal. You didn’t call that much anymore and when you did, I just didn’t know what to tell you. Your daddy made demands and I abided by those demands.” Her shrug said it all. But Cal knew there was much more to all of this.
Cassie got up then, pushing past Cal, her hands tightening against the wide butcher-block island. “And I didn’t abide by his rules and his demands. So I got banished until…the bitter end. Until it was almost too late.”
Cal hadn’t planned on explaining his presence to her, but she deserved to know. “C’mon,” he said, grabbing her by the arm. “Let’s go have a talk.”
Her frown held disbelief and distrust. “What’s there to talk about?”
“Lots.” He practically dragged her toward the back door.
Teresa called after them. “She needs to eat something. She didn’t have a bite of lunch.”
“I’m not hungry,” Cassie said on a grumbling breath, her eyes on Cal. “And I’d not ready for this.”
“Oh, yes, you are.” Cal held her elbow, urging her toward his cottage. “We’re going to get this over with here and now, Cassie.”
“Why? Whatever you have to say won’t change a thing.”
“It’ll explain a lot, though. I thought you wanted answers and explanations.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me. This is between my daddy and me.”
He didn’t blame her for that. He’d lied to her once before and it had destroyed both of them. “I don’t care what you think about me, but you need to understand how things are around here now.”
She hurried toward the farmhouse cottage, pushing at camellia bushes as she went. “Yes, I guess it would be nice if someone would enlighten me about the status quo. I’ve had quite enough surprises for one day.”
Her silky, cultured Southern voice poured over him. Even spitting mad, she still had class. Which was only one more reason he should have stayed away from this place. Or left as soon as Marcus told him the real reason he wanted Cassie to come home.
But he’d stayed, of course. To see her again. To finish what he’d started. And to honor a dying man’s wishes.
Or
