Love Me Tender (6 page)

“Yeah, marriage number three was three years ago. They live in Acapulco, because that's”—she made air quotes—“‘where their passion for each other truly flowers.'”

Dave caught his mom's amused glance and suppressed an eye roll.

“Maybe it'll be third-time lucky,” his mom said tactfully. “Sometimes it takes people a while to grow up and figure out what they really want.”

Dave leaned forward to squeeze her shoulder. “Says the woman who's been married to her high school sweetheart for thirty-five years.”

“Thirty-six, but who's counting?” She shrugged. “Ken and I knew from the beginning and we've never had any doubts. But that's not how it works out for everyone.” Her gray eyes met Dave's with a look of compassion. “That doesn't mean you should give up, though.”

He frowned at her. She knew how Anita's illness and death had gutted him. No way would he go through that again.

Cassidy gave one of her musical burbles of laughter. “It's not giving up if you never chase the dream in the first place.”

Dave realized that she'd thought his mom's comment had been addressed to her. And who knows, maybe his mother had been talking to both of them.

Cassidy went on. “I'm happy for you and Ken, Sheila. But you've been sprinkled with some kind of magic dust, to beat the odds the way you have.”

“You don't believe in true love?” His mother sounded more than a little shocked.

Dave did believe in it. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have been so furious at fate when Anita was diagnosed. He wouldn't have been so angry that she couldn't beat the disease, that the power of his love couldn't somehow cure her. His heart wouldn't have shattered when she died.

“It's not my place to speak for other people,” Cassidy said. “For me, no, I don't believe in it. I believe in being independent, respecting others, living life to its fullest. Not chasing unrealistic dreams.”

“Love's not always the best thing,” Dave said grimly.

He could see the effort his mother put into forcing a smile and saying lightly, “You kids today. I don't know what the world's coming to.”

While Madisun bent over her spreadsheet, Cassidy surreptitiously ran a hand over her left thigh, trying to massage out the pins and needles. The two women were in the Wild Rose's dining room on Saturday afternoon, preparing for Karen MacLean and Jamal Estevez's wedding reception. They wore white cotton short-sleeved shirts and pants, as did all the staff who would work the reception. Madisun's long hair was pulled back into a sleek knot at her nape.

Cassidy forced back a yawn. She felt tired and draggy, but there were hours to go before her workday would be done. She'd been in Caribou Crossing for a month and loved it, but unfortunately, healthy living hadn't cured her fatigue or healed her leg. She'd assumed that she'd strained it and it would heal with time, but now she wondered if it might be a pinched nerve.

The normally cool and collected Madisun wasn't in fantastic shape at the moment either. Color flushed her cheeks and her fingers trembled as she checked items off and scribbled notes.

Cassidy, who'd come to like and respect the younger woman, touched her hand. “Calm down. Everything's going to be wonderful.”

“Perfect.” Madisun's eyes widened with what looked almost like panic. “Everything has to be perfect. Dave put me in charge.”

Cassidy had played a role in that. Dave, a close friend of the bride's, had been invited to the wedding, which was currently getting under way in the town square half a block away. He'd mentioned that he couldn't attend because he had to oversee reception preparations. The man could be a control freak, but so was Madisun. Cassidy had persuaded him to leave his assistant manager in charge, so he wouldn't hurt Karen's feelings by not seeing her get married.

She patted Madisun's arm. “Because he knows you'll do a great job.” Quickly, she amended, “A
perfect
job, I mean. Now, what's next on the list?”

“The bar.”

“Tick it off. I just checked with Roy. And Mitch has the food and the servers under control. And the décor looks fabulous.” She gestured around the room. The dark wood and brass were tempered with peach and white table settings and vases of ivory-colored orchids blended with pink, orange, and peach freesias. The sweet, fresh scent of the freesias perfumed the air. “All that's left is putting the place cards on the tables, right? And you have the seating chart.”

Madisun took a deep breath. “Okay, that sounds right.” She fumbled the seating chart out from under the spreadsheet. “Oh God, I've lost the place cards!”

“They're here.” Cassidy grabbed the stack off a nearby table. “I sorted them by table, but we should double-check as we put them out. Starting with the easiest, the head table. Read me the names on the seating chart.” She and Madisun knew this table by heart, but it might calm the younger woman to get a process going.

Obediently, Madisun read from the chart. “Karen and Jamal, of course. The best man, Jake, and the matron of honor, Brooke.”

“Who, conveniently, happen to be husband and wife.” She put cards on the table.

“The maid of honor, Lark Cantrell, who doesn't have a plus one. Karen's parents and her brother and his wife.” She looked up. “It's too bad Jamal has no family. He's outnumbered.”

“At least he has Jake.” The two men, both RCMP officers, were good friends.

Cassidy and Madisun moved on, table by table. The bride and groom had kept things small. There were RCMP colleagues, local friends, and a handful of Karen's relatives from Ontario.

At the final table, Madisun read, “Jess and Evan, Dave and Sally, and—”

“You're really sure that's a good idea?” Cassidy asked.

The younger woman frowned. “We discussed this before.”

“I know, but it still seems strange.”

Over the past weeks, Cassidy had learned a lot about the intriguing Dave Cousins. Not much from the man himself, as he tended to be closemouthed about his personal life, but from staff at the Wild Rose; her landlady, Ms. Haldenby; Dave's family; and other townspeople. Having experienced small towns before, she wasn't surprised that people minded each other's business. In the nicest possible way.

She'd found out that she had guessed wrong about Jess breaking his heart. In fact, their marriage had split up because he had fallen in love with Anita, a recently arrived teacher. That surprised Cassidy; it seemed so out of character for him. And, oddly, people didn't censure him. He was Caribou Crossing's fair-haired boy who could do no wrong. She'd lost track of the number of times someone had referred to him as the nicest guy in town, and told her about some problem he'd solved or generous act he'd bestowed.

According to the rumor mill, Dave and Anita had nobly tried to deny and resist their mutual attraction. But Jess noticed that Dave seemed stressed and miserable, and she forced him to tell her the truth. Then she—Caribou Crossing's fair-haired girl despite her chestnut locks—nobly freed him from their marriage. It seemed that although Jess and Dave did love each other it wasn't that “once in a lifetime” kind of love, as Maribeth at Days of Your put it. So Jess freed Dave to find that kind of love with Anita, and she later found it herself with Evan, who'd been her best friend as a kid but had left Caribou Crossing for ten years.

Tragically for Dave, he and Anita had barely announced their engagement when she was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. She'd undergone every possible treatment, with Dave steadfastly at her side, but had died in a few short months. That had been three years ago. Now Cassidy understood the sadness in the man's eyes, and why his dimple had gone into hiding.

“You've seen them all together,” Madisun said. “Dave gets along great with Evan and Jess. He and Jess are like, you know, best friends.”

That did seem to be true. But didn't Madisun see the occasional tinge of envy in Dave's hazel eyes? How must he feel, having lost his love to brain cancer, then seeing his ex-wife so happy with her new husband? Though, of course, she reminded herself, he was dating Sally Ryland, a widow who lived out at Ryland Riding, giving lessons and boarding horses.

The first afternoon Cassidy had ridden with Dave, he'd said there was no special woman in his life. It turned out that he was being discreet. She'd heard about him dating Sally from a number of people. Apparently the two of them were taking things slow and Dave even pretended they were just friends. Still, he was out at her place almost every Sunday. And today, she was his date for the wedding and reception.

The news about Dave and Sally's relationship had put an end to Cassidy's tentative plan to liven up his sex life. Now she knew why Dave, who sometimes seemed attracted to her, never acted on it. She respected that. Though she was a firm believer in casual sex, she didn't respect people who cheated on their partners.

Nor did she believe in sex for the sake of sex; there had to be some kind of connection. She hadn't felt that with any of the half dozen or so guys who'd asked her out. Yeah, she'd have a coffee or beer with them and chat, but it never got more serious than that. None of them measured up to Dave, nor turned her on the way he did. She sighed. Lucky Sally.

Cassidy hadn't met the woman yet, and was definitely curious. “How about Sally?” she asked as she distributed the last place cards. “She gets along with Jess?”

“Jess gets along with everyone.” Madisun's tense expression lightened for a moment. “She's a lot like you, that way.”

“Thanks.” Cassidy had spoken to Jess a couple of times on line-dancing nights, but since she'd been working there hadn't been time for a real conversation. From what she'd seen, Jess was natural, outgoing, sensible, and definitely pretty, with her sleek chestnut hair and even features. She was also clearly very much in love with Evan.

“But I haven't seen her with Sally,” Madisun said. “I haven't even seen Dave with Sally.”

For some reason, Cassidy had trouble thinking of him dating Sally. Was it because she hadn't seen them together either? Or because she really wished he was single and available for a little fun? Or because he didn't seem like a happy man? His dimple never popped. He laughed, but it was never a belly laugh. Sometimes a shadow crossed his face, and then she did her best, with a touch or a light comment, to bring him back from whatever memory disturbed him.

“Sally hardly ever comes to town,” Madisun went on. “She and her husband moved here a while back, and set up Ryland Riding. It was like their own little world. Then he died of a massive heart attack when he was only thirty.”

“I heard about that. It's so sad.” And another reason to not buy into the notion of happily ever after relationships.

“She still keeps to herself—except for her students, of course. I don't know if she's snotty, or shy, or what. Dave goes out and helps her with stuff, and they have dinner or, you know, whatever.” Madisun flashed a quick, conspiratorial grin, and then the grin turned to a frown. “I'm just not sure she's right for him. He's such an amazing guy, he deserves someone special.”

“I know” She studied the striking Native Canadian woman. “You're not, uh, interested in him yourself, are you?”

“Me?” Madisun shook her head quickly. “No way. He's like Evan. They're mentors.”

“And friends. It's obvious you're close to both of them.”

“I guess.” Her smile was self-deprecating. “It's kind of hard to believe that a girl like me can be friends with men like them.”

Madisun, like Dave, was closemouthed about her personal life. Still, the gossip mill had enlightened Cassidy. She knew that the young woman's father drank and had trouble keeping a job. Her mom hadn't finished high school and was raising Madisun's eight younger siblings.

“You're hardworking, smart, and nice,” Cassidy said. “You're exactly the kind of woman they'd like and respect.”

Madisun's only flaw, as far as she could see, was that she could be too serious. On a whim, Cassidy went over to one of the large flower arrangements on a sideboard and tugged off a few freesia blossoms from where the loss would never be noticed. She tucked a couple of pink blossoms into the left pocket of Madisun's shirt, a bright, almost mischievous touch against the stark white uniform. Into her own pocket she tucked a couple of peach-colored blossoms.

Then, hearing excited voices from outside, she said, “The hordes are descending. Karen and Jamal are married.”

“May they have many happy years together.” Madisun's tone was dead serious.

“Uh, yeah.” Who knew, maybe the newlyweds would be like Sheila and Ken Cousins, or the white-haired dance teachers Jimmy B and Bets, rather than like Cassidy's parents or her brother and his ex-wife. Sprinkled with magic dust, as she'd said to Sheila. An odd wistfulness sent a pang through her heart, but she shook it off, reminding herself she was the realistic one who didn't believe in chasing crazy dreams that might end up breaking your heart.

She and Madisun hurried toward the bar to help Roy and his staff.

The next hour went by in a whirl as staff served drinks to guests. Adrenaline overrode Cassidy's fatigue as she worked with Madisun and assisted the other staff.

The excited chatter stopped dead when the bridal party, fresh from being photographed in the town square, arrived with bright smiles. Karen looked stunning and glowed with happiness. Tall and shapely, she wore an off-the-shoulder ivory gown with lace and seed pearls. Her glossy dark brown hair was caught up in an artfully simple style, accented with a headpiece that matched the dress. Robin had said that her gramma Brooke was doing Karen's hair.

Jamal, a striking man with a smile that wouldn't quit, was her perfect match. He wore a light gray suit, a crisp white dress shirt, and a silver-and-black-striped tie. He was, Cassidy had learned, half African American and half Puerto Rican American. The clothing looked great against his beautiful skin, which was the color of dark coffee.

Madisun stepped forward with a tray of flute glasses filled with the bubbly passion fruit drink that Karen had chosen for the party, and served the bride, groom, then the rest of the wedding party.

The bride and groom had wanted an informal celebration and decided against a receiving line. Instead, they began to circulate around the room, chatting with their guests.

Cassidy checked that the wedding photographer was on the job, moving around unobtrusively and snapping informal shots. Then she picked up another tray of flutes filled with the peachy-gold punch. The drink was nonalcoholic, because Jamal, Brooke, and two or three others were recovering alcoholics. The guests who really wanted booze could get drinks at the bar.

She greeted Karen's family, who were staying at the Wild Rose, and said hi to townspeople she knew, refilling her tray as needed and trying to ignore the pins and needles in her leg. A fresh tray in hand, she gazed across the room at Dave, who looked great but slightly uncomfortable in a dark gray suit, cream shirt, and striped tie. He stood talking to Brooke and Jake Brannon, who were holding hands. The woman by his side must be Sally Ryland.

As Cassidy walked toward them, she checked out the other woman. Sally was attractive, with short, strawberry blond hair curling loosely around an oval-shaped face, greenish gray eyes, and freckles she hadn't bothered to conceal with make-up. In low-heeled pumps, she was a couple inches taller than Cassidy in her flats. Her build was toned and lean, on the thin side. Her short-sleeved green dress was flattering, but understated. In fact, there was something about the way Sally stood, a little round shouldered, close to Dave but not touching him, that almost made her look like she'd rather not be noticed. Not snobby, Cassidy thought, but perhaps shy.