Love Me Tender (28 page)

“She's sick, Anita. Not like you, but it could end up being pretty bad. And she's stubborn and independent. She's so damned frustrating, but she's also so generous. She brought me back to life, but that's not why I love—”

Oh God.

Testing the words, he said, “Do I love Cassidy?”

If he did, it wasn't in the same way he had loved Anita, which wasn't the same way he had loved Jessie. Jessie was the spunky girl he'd known all through school, married, and grown to love, the woman who was now his good friend. Anita was the gentle, incredibly special woman who'd left him too early and would live forever in his heart.

And then there was Cassidy, who, without him realizing it, had captured his heart and become a huge part of his life. Life without her would be empty, flat, lonely. Of course, he'd have Robin, his family and friends, his work. Just as he'd had before she came into his life. And look how miserable he'd been then.

Her smile, her laugh, the sparkle in her eyes, those were highlights of his day. Holding her in bed, whether they were making love or just cuddling, made him feel warm and content, as if all was right with his world. When she accused him of being overprotective, it pissed him off, but only because he wanted to keep her safe from all the dangers that might hurt her. That might take her away from him.

Oh, shit. “Maybe I do love her.”

And that sucked, because once she went through this tough time in her life, came to terms with her MS, recovered her equanimity and sense of adventure, she'd be gone.

Robin had said that people didn't leave Caribou Crossing. But that wasn't true. The ones who stayed were the ones who knew it was the home of their heart.

Anita said that Dave had taught her how to fight. Their love had motivated her and she'd battled terminal illness, she'd undergone horrific treatments, just to hang on to that love for even another hour. “But in the end you lost,” he whispered.

If he fought to win Cassidy, to convince her that she could be happy living in Caribou Crossing for the rest of her life, would he lose? Or if he managed to win, would she indeed be happy or would she feel tied down, those winged feet of hers bound? Would the vibrancy that made her Cassidy fade, like that of a wild bird when it was caged?

And then there was another question. Was he strong enough to love a woman who would, on a daily basis, battle an illness that could strike without warning?

At the crack of dawn Wednesday, in Dave's kitchen, Cassidy held back a yawn. “Dave, just go. I'll be fine.”

He had to go to the Okanagan to meet with several suppliers today and tomorrow. It was a four-hour drive and it made sense for him to stay overnight, but he'd been waffling. In fact, he'd been just plain odd for the past couple of days: distracted and self-absorbed, yet she caught him watching her when he didn't think she was looking. It made her seriously antsy.

If he was thinking of demoting her to a less responsible job, she wouldn't go down without a damned good fight. She could handle the Wild Rose in his absence. Having MS didn't make her incompetent, but that's how he was treating her. Her self-esteem had suffered badly enough since her diagnosis; she didn't need him undermining it further.

Exasperated, she said, “You say you're worried about my stress levels? Arguing with me and not trusting me stresses me out way more than getting out of my hair so I can do my job.”

Narrow-eyed, he snapped back, “Don't get mad at me for caring for you.”

Caring? The word gave her momentary pause. Not because she didn't know he cared—as a friend. But because her heart gave a hopeful jump, almost as if she wanted more. The kind of caring that led to those happily ever afters that Caribou Crossing seemed known for. The kind she couldn't let herself believe in for herself.

“I'm sorry.” She stepped closer and applied a lesson from the counseling group she'd joined. Though it was hard to talk about how her illness made her feel, people couldn't understand unless she did. “MS makes me feel less. Less strong, less attractive—”

“That's not—”

She silenced him with a finger against his lips. “Whether these things are true or not, they're how I feel.” That was another lesson: her feelings were valid. She'd also learned that others suffering from chronic illness or disability had similar feelings. She removed her finger. “MS makes me doubt myself. When you get protective about me doing my job, it makes me feel as if you don't trust me and—”

“That's not—”

She applied the finger again. “
And
I was going to say that I know that's not what you intend, but even so it undermines my self-confidence.” This time she kept the finger in place. “Dave, I know that in the future, if I have more attacks or have real problems with fatigue or meds, I may be restricted in what I can do. That'll be really hard for me. But I'm not there now. I'm feeling good, I'm capable, you hired me for a responsible job, and I want you to let me do that job.” Now she moved her finger away.

He caught it, held it, and then, almost reluctantly, kissed it. “You're right. Thanks for explaining. I know I can take it too far when I want to protect the people I l—” He coughed, cleared his throat. “The people I like. I'll try to ease off if you don't try to be Superwoman.”

“Deal. So we're good? You'll go on this trip and not worry about me or the Wild Rose, and I'll promise to call if the inn burns down?”

He grimaced. “Don't even joke about it. But yeah, we're good. And we'll talk on the phone tonight.”

“Make it latish, okay? You in your hotel room bed, me in my bed at home. I bet we'll rock phone sex.”

A startled laugh burst out. “Oh man, that's a thought to keep me warm on the long drive.”

 

 

Midafternoon, Cassidy finished giving directions in French to a couple from Quebec who wanted to visit Gold Rush Days Park. As the pair went out the door, she let out a long breath. Okay, the day could have been a little less busy. Nothing major had gone wrong, but there'd been a succession of problems, from plumbing issues to noise complaints to someone skipping on their lunch tab to a supplier's failure to deliver the fresh trout that were supposed to be the main course at the town council's dinner meeting.

She had dealt with everything, sometimes multitasking. In addition, she'd supervised the staff in decorating for Halloween on Saturday. Studying the lobby, she smiled at the carved pumpkins, black cats, and witches scattered among the displays of autumn flowers and foliage.

Now, though, she was more than ready for a break. Fatigue had set in and her leg was giving her the pins-and-needles warning sign that it needed a rest. She went to the kitchen for a tall glass of ice water and a couple of chocolate chip cookies, and then made her way to Dave's office, sank gratefully into his chair, and put her feet up.

She had just picked up a cookie when her cell rang. She pulled it from her pocket and saw that it was Jess. “Hi there.”

“Cassidy, I'm so glad I got you.” The other woman sounded harried. “Dave's not answering his cell and I need to talk to him.”

“He's in meetings. I'm sure he'll check as soon as he's free.”

“I didn't leave voice mail. Can you tell him to call as soon as you see him?”

“Uh, Jess, he's in Penticton this afternoon.”

“What? He's where?”

“He's meeting with suppliers in the Okanagan today and tomorrow.”

“Oh, shit.”

“What's wrong?”

A long, wavery breath came over the phone. “It's not really serious, but Rob and Evan were in an accident.”

“Oh my God!” She jerked upright. “Are they okay?”

“Rob's fine. Bruised from her seat belt and a little shaky, but otherwise okay. Evan hit his head against the side window and blacked out for a couple of seconds. He's concussed and there's minor swelling, which they're pretty sure will subside, but they want to keep him in the hospital overnight and monitor him closely.” She was talking at twice her normal speed. “I'd like to stay with him, so I was going to get Dave to pick up Rob, but if he's in Penticton—”

“Jess, stop. It's okay. Robin can stay with me. You're at the hospital now? Let me get a few things organized here; then I'll pick her up.” Belatedly, it occurred to her that Jess might rather have Robin stay with a set of grandparents.

But no, Jess said, “Would you? That would be wonderful, Cassidy. Rob would love it. Listen, I know she likes to think she's so tough, but she can be fragile underneath. She's gone through a lot. A car ran a light and smashed into Evan's, and she got tossed around, and now he's in the hospital looking glassy-eyed.”

“I understand. I'll keep an eye on her.”

“Call me if there's a problem. I can always come get her.”

“Okay. Are you going to call Dave?”

A pause. “If I do, he'll drive home. Four hours, after a long day's work, when he's upset. And she'll be asleep before he gets here. If she was seriously hurt, of course I'd call, but . . . What do you think?”

Cassidy's eyebrows rose. Dave's ex was asking her opinion? “Maybe we could hold off a while, then Robin and I can call him?”

“Good idea. She'll feel better by then, and when he hears her voice and she says she's okay—which she always says, even if she has a broken arm—he might halfway believe her.”

They both chuckled. “Okay, I'll see you soon,” Cassidy said.

It wasn't right to leave the receptionist in charge at the Wild Rose until Sam came on duty at ten-thirty. Cassidy dialed his number and explained the situation.

“Sure,” he said. “I don't mind putting in a few extra hours if you throw in one of Mitch's dinners. I'll be there shortly.”

“And be sure to call me if you run into any problems.” As she hung up, she had to laugh. Now she was sounding like Dave.

She took the elevator to Dave's suite, munching a cookie and drinking water on the way. Into a recyclable bag went Robin's PJ's and a change of clothes for school tomorrow, horsy DVDs, and microwave popcorn. She added children's aspirin and Traumeel, an ointment that helped heal bruises. Active, outdoorsy Robin suffered her fair share of bruises and scrapes, and Dave's bathroom cabinet was well stocked. All packed, Cassidy gazed down at the poodle, who'd been following her around. “And what about you, Merlin?”

He cocked his head.

“Yeah, you're right,” she said. Tonight, Robin needed her dog. Cassidy knew Ms. H would be fine with it. Besides, her landlady was occupied with her houseguest, Irene.

Downstairs again, Cassidy found Sam ensconced behind Dave's desk. “Tryin' it on for size.” He winked. “Don't tell the boss.”

“My lips are sealed. Thanks again, Sam.”

She called a cab and she and Merlin hopped in. When they arrived at the hospital, she asked the driver to wait five minutes. As she climbed out, she discovered that her left leg had gone numb. A stupid pseudoexacerbation—just what she needed right now.

Robin and Jess were in the waiting room, heads bent over the girl's homework. Doing her best to walk evenly despite her numb leg, Cassidy joined them. “Hey, you two. Robin, how are you feeling, sweetie?” Gently, she tugged the girl's messy ponytail.

“Oh, fine. The bruise'll be gone in a few days.” Robin's smile lacked its usual voltage. “Thanks for inviting me for a sleepover.”

“It's my pleasure.”

Jess rose. “If you could wait with Rob for just a minute, I'll run to the hospital pharmacy and buy some aspirin and Traumeel.”

“No need,” Cassidy said. “I brought some.”

The other woman smiled. “You've really gotten to know my daughter.” Thankfully, she didn't seem upset about that. She bent to hug Robin. “You have fun. If you want to talk to me, give me a call. Anytime, sweetheart. Okay?” She glanced at Cassidy. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome. You go look after Evan.”

Walking slowly, her arm around Robin, Cassidy made it out to the taxi. When the girl's body tensed, Cassidy asked, “Are you nervous about getting into a car?”

“Not much,” she said, chin high. “Though I'd rather be on Concha.” Then she gazed into the backseat and cried, “Merlin!” Worries forgotten, she dove in to hug her dog.

Cassidy followed, giving the driver Ms. Haldenby's address. She wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders and leaned back. The pressures of the day had caught up with her and knocked her out. She wanted to doze, but instead focused on Robin. “I thought we'd put on our jammies and climb into bed and watch movies. I brought
Flicka
and
National Velvet
.”

“My favorites!”

“Popcorn, of course. And for dinner, does pizza sound good?”

“Yay, we're going to make pizza.”

Cassidy loved making pizza with Robin and Dave, assembling a bunch of toppings so each of them could craft her or his own portion of the pie. Her leg should be able to handle a trip to the grocery store. Or she could listen to Dave, and not try to be Superwoman.

“You know what? I've had kind of a tough day too. I'm tired and my leg's acting up. I know it won't taste as good, but how about we phone for delivery pizza tonight?”

“Sure. When your MS is acting up, you need to rest.”

Cassidy gave an exaggerated eye roll. “You're channeling your dad, right?”

They both laughed, and then Cassidy said, “The most energetic thing either of us is doing tonight is nuking popcorn and letting Merlin out. And calling your dad.”

“But we have to be careful what we say. We don't want him to worry.”