Strangers in Paradise (36 page)

“I know he deserves it,” she whispered, pretending to talk strategy with him. “But you're a better man than this. And he's getting his comeuppance. He's not happy. My guess is he's still in love with Cassie. What better punishment than to live this close to her, see her all the time, and know he can never have her?”

Imagining himself living in the same town as Randi without the right to take her home to bed every night, to wake beside her every morning, to listen to her fears and laugh at her jokes, Zack agreed with her. Sam Montford was getting the punishment he truly deserved.

He just hoped Cassie didn't end up suffering, too. She was the sister he'd never had, and Zack was going to protect her. Come hell or high water.

A little while later, Ben said he needed some water. Sam was looking a little thirsty himself. But Zack wasn't finished with him.

Zack didn't have any choice. The other three walked off the court and left him standing there. Sam and Ben saw to their daughters, showing them to the bathroom, then Ben gave both of them juice boxes from Alex's miniature backpack. Afterward, the two men retrieved water bottles from the bags they'd brought with them and stood at the end of the court, dripping sweat and squirting water into their mouths.

Randi had disappeared into her office for something. Zack stood off to the side, figuring he'd much rather be in Randi's office with her than on the court with these two. Even though Ben was just about the best friend he'd ever had.

“So what're you studying at the university?” Sam asked Ben, as they leaned against the gym wall. Sam was watching Mariah, who hadn't touched the box of juice Ben had placed on the floor in front of her. Zack wasn't even sure she knew it was there. She'd been staring at Sam the entire game, her little head moving back and forth as Sam ran up and down the court.

But her eyes, as far as Zack had been able to tell, had not followed the play at all. They'd only followed Sam.

“I'm starting out with a business degree.” Ben was answering Sam. “I thought about law, but that'll have to wait a while.”

“Ben's spent the past eight years supporting Alex and her mother so he's getting a late start on his education,” Zack chimed in. “But he's carrying a 4.0. As soon as he graduates, there'll be no stopping him.”

Zack rather enjoyed bragging about Sam's cousin's accomplishments in the face of Sam's failures.

“Business, huh?” Sam asked, eyes narrowing as he took them off Mariah long enough to look at Ben. “Life at a desk appeals to you?”

Ben shrugged. “Don't know about that. Manipulating money appeals to me. Especially when I'm manipulating it in my direction.” He grinned an all-male grin.

Sam, doing a damn fine job of dividing his attention between his daughter and the conversation at hand, smiled at Mariah. At the same time he asked Ben, “You working now?”

Ben shook his head. “I saved enough to get through this first year. It's been so long since I was in school, I wasn't sure what I was signing on for, but I'm going to look for something this summer.” He glanced over at Alex. “To be honest, I didn't count on supporting a wife and daughter, when I made my plans.”

“Have you talked to my father?” Sam asked. “You're entitled to Montford money.”

Silently sipping his own bottle of water, Zack searched for the malice, the jealousy or selfishness behind Sam's offer. Even a little bitterness would have been a welcome confirmation of his opinion. He wasn't all that happy when he heard none of them. He didn't want to find anything impressive about the man who'd damn near destroyed one of his dearest friends.

Ben pushed away from the wall, tossing his empty water bottle in the big plastic can at the end of the court. “I don't take handouts,” he said. “When I'm rich, it's going to be because I made myself that way through honest hard work.”

Sam jogged onto the court beside Ben. Zack followed, but hung back just a little, waiting for Randi.

“There's a job available at Montford, Inc., if you're interested,” Sam said, grabbing the ball from Ben to make a hook shot. “But I gotta tell you, if you take it, you might have to be mayor of Shelter Valley someday, too. It all comes with the Montford territory.”

Sam made the job sound like a death sentence.

And if he felt that way about it, Zack wondered, how had he handled growing up in this town, where half the people still thought he was their savior come back to rescue them. That would've been one hell of a lot of pressure for a young guy.

It gave Zack an insight into the man, one he wasn't ready to accept. He was on Cassie's side. That meant he needed to hate Sam Montford, not sympathize with him.

* * *

They were all tired, but too damn stubborn to quit without a win, when a couple of Montford's senior basketball players came barreling into the gym for a little one on one. Zack recognized them immediately. At the U on scholarship, both men were destined for the pros as soon as they graduated the following month. They'd both already signed with well-known agents.

“Hey, Bo, Glen,” Randi called out to them. “Come to let us old folks show you how it's done?”

“Hell no, Coach,” Bo called back across the court, whipping a basketball at Randi's middle. “Come to give you few lessons.”

The boys made a couple of spirited runs up and down the court with the four of them, everyone enjoying a healthy bout of physical competition. No one noticed the little girl sitting on the sidelines, her hand gripping the dog crouched next to her.

Not until Bo got a little too rough with Sam, knocking him flat when Sam came down with a rebound. Sam was still on the floor, his nose dripping blood, when Sammie's pain-filled yelp resounded through the gym, deafening them all, turning seven pairs of alarmed eyes in her direction. Mariah was shaking so hard that she was almost convulsing, her eyes unfocused as she stared vacantly somewhere in the distance. In her little hand was a hank of Sammie's fur. Pulled from the dog's neck.

“Oh, my God!” Zack heard Randi's cry, as he and Sam raced to the little girl's side. Running, Sam wiped his nose on a towel Glen had thrown him.

“Mariah?” His voice was filled with love. And overflowing with fear. “What's wrong, honey? Daddy's right here.” He dabbed at his nose again.

Even though he'd been down on the floor, he reached her first, lifting her gently into his arms, cradling her against him.

“Daddy's right here, honey,” he said, over and over, attempting to calm the child.

Zack had never seen such terror in another man's eyes, as the little girl continued to shake.

“She's scared to death,” Sam said.

“Sammie's just fine, honey,” Zack said, with no idea what to do. “She just makes noises like that sometimes. It's nothing to be afraid of.”

His eyes met Sam's. Something more than the dog's yelp had done this. Something that had made Mariah react convulsively, yanking out Sammie's fur. “Randi's gone for her blood pressure cuff. Should I have her call an ambulance?”

“I don't know,” Sam said. “I'm afraid having strangers fussing over her would only scare her more.” He rubbed the little girl's back, tried to see the face she had hidden in his chest. “What do you think?”

Ben, with Alex in his arms, came up behind them. “Is there anything I can do?”

Sam shook his head. “Why don't you take Alex home?” he suggested. The other little girl looked scared to death.

“You'll call me later, let me know she's okay?” Ben asked anxiously.

Nodding, Sam turned his attention back to his daughter, trying to persuade her to release him long enough for him to see her face, to assess the situation.

The two boys, after making sure there was nothing they could do, had disappeared, leaving Zack and Sam alone in the gym with Mariah.

“Should we call her doctor?” Zack asked. He'd never felt so helpless in his life. Never seen another man look that way.

Mariah was still shaking.

“I've got her psychiatrist's number in my wallet over in my bag. Would you mind?” Sam asked.

Without another word, Zack ran off, grabbed Sam's wallet, and was at a phone by the time he'd found the number.

One thing was certain. Sam Montford's love for his daughter was very real and as deep as it gets. And no man who cared that much for a child who wasn't even his own could be all bad.

Chapter 12

A
n old Andy Griffith rerun was on after the late news on Friday night. It was the one in which a very young Opie was in love with Barney Fyfe's girl, Thelma Lou. Cassie had seen it often enough that she didn't need to look at the screen to know what was happening as she listened. And grouted.

All the tile was now applied to the wall. It had dried sufficiently that she could smear the grout on. And then begin the painstaking job of rubbing off the excess. It was a lot of work, but she was going to be very happy with the result. The guest bath might turn out to be her best room yet.

This time, when her doorbell rang, she knew instinctively who it was. She'd been letting the machine get the phone all night, as Zack was on call at the clinic and she was elbow-deep in sticky white stuff.

Not that Sam should be calling
or
visiting her. They'd already confirmed her Saturday-afternoon session with Mariah.

Wiping her hands on the towel slung over her shoulder, Cassie made her way slowly toward the front door. Wearing the same cutoffs and T-shirt she'd had on the night before, she wasn't even wearing a bra. She was barefoot and had tied her hair back with an elastic. She was not prepared to receive anyone. Especially not her ex-husband.

Sam was getting into the very bad habit of stopping by unannounced. She was going to have to cure him of that.

The bell pealed a second time.

“I'm coming,” Cassie called. Whatever he wanted, he was just going to have to tell her while they stood on her front porch. He wasn't coming in her house again.

Flicking on the porch light, she pulled open the door.

Sam's face was ashen, his lips tight. The blood drained from Cassie's cheeks as she stepped back, allowing him room to come in. “What's wrong?”

“Mariah had an attack today.”

“An attack?” Cassie asked, frowning, following him into her living room. He looked freshly showered, was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a black polo shirt with black sandals. “What kind of attack? Where? When?”

“We were playing basketball,” Sam said, shaking his head. “Zack and Randi, Ben and I. Mariah was sitting on the side of the court with Sammie and Alex, staring as usual. I never noticed anything amiss.”

Cassie slid down beside him on the couch, her fingers itching to hold his hand, to smooth the still-damp tendrils of hair back from his eyes. She knew so naturally how to comfort him.

“Suddenly Sammie lets out this horrendous yelp, and Mariah's practically convulsing.”

Oh, God. This was bad. “She had a seizure?” Did that mean there was brain damage, after all?

“No, thank God.” He shook his head, his shoulders slumped forward, hands between his knees. “She was severely traumatized by something and couldn't seem to stop shaking.”

“Where is she now?” They hadn't institutionalized her, had they? Not that quickly.

“Home. She's been given a sedative. She'll be out the rest of the night.”

Home.
Cassie started to breathe again. “You've seen her psychiatrist, then?”

“No.” He looked over at her, his green eyes filled with agony. And doubt. “I spoke to her briefly this afternoon. She had me go to the urgent-care clinic here in town to make sure there wasn't anything physically wrong.”

“Which there isn't.”

“Right.”

Cassie's relief was tangible and so overwhelming, she forgot she had to draw a circle around herself to keep Sam out.

“We have an appointment with the psychiatrist on Monday.” His eyes were clouded.

“You're thinking they might want to keep her.”

“Her doctor said as much.”

“Shit.”

He shook his head, glanced over his shoulder at her. “Maybe it's for the best, Cassie. Maybe this is what she needs.”

“Do you truly think so?”

“No.” His expression was fierce. Then he looked away, his hands clasped. “But what do I know?”

“You know that you love her, that you'll do whatever it takes to help her.”

“Which certainly doesn't qualify me to make this decision.”

“I think,” Cassie said slowly, “that perhaps, when it comes to parenting, you're supposed to trust your instincts.”

She was actually sitting there, advising Sam on how to be a good parent. She, who could never be one herself. At some point, this memory was going to hurt.

“Doctors aren't always right, Sam.”

His mouth a grim line, Sam didn't look convinced.

“At least, promise me you'll get a second opinion before you do anything.”

“She's already with the best doctors available.”

Her head shot up, her eyes searching his face. “So, you're just going to send her away?”

“No.” He shook his head. “How can I desert her like that?”

He couldn't. She'd known that.

“But I'm not sure I'm making the decision that's best for Mariah,” he added. “Maybe, because of my own need to keep her close, I'm merely deferring the inevitable.”

“I've seen some miraculous things over the past couple of years, Sam—things that even the best psychologists in the nation didn't expect. I don't think you're wrong to give her this chance. The hospital will always be there.”

He nodded. “She's already lost six months. It seems like an awfully long time to lose....”

Not compared to a lifetime.
Cassie swallowed. Their own daughter had lost a lifetime. Sometime, she'd have to tell him about that.

But not now. She wasn't strong enough to get through that. Not yet. Not until she could trust herself to talk about her baby girl and remain immune to her baby's father.

“These past six months haven't been lost,” Cassie finally said. “You've been loving that little girl, building a new sense of security for her, a new life, that will be there for her when she's ready to come out of hiding. I'm not pushing this because of the pet therapy, Sam. I don't have an agenda, and I don't need another test case. It's just that I've seen situations like this before. The slow building of trust. The successes. I know we're reaching her....”

Sam's eyes filled with worry. And hope.

Mariah was luckier then she knew. Cassie would've given anything to have Sam's steady, gentle caring during the months after their baby had died. To have the security of his love, while she came to grips with the fact that she wasn't ever going to have other children.

“Mariah's got a better chance with you, Sam.” She couldn't fight for the daughter she'd lost, but she could fight for this child who'd lost her parents. “I really believe that withdrawing your constant love and support right now could interfere with her ability to become emotionally whole.”

“You really care, don't you?” he asked softly.

“Of course I care. I've spent a lot of time with that kid. She's a special little girl.” It couldn't be any more than that.

He turned to face her. “And do you exact promises concerning the welfare of all your patients?”

Cassie held his gaze as long as she could. And then looked down. “I care about them all,” she prevaricated. “I couldn't expend so much emotional energy on them
without
caring.”

He watched her silently, and Cassie brushed at some tile dust on her knee. Fiddled with a strand of hair that had come loose.

“Do you ever wear it down anymore?”

The soft question took her by surprise. “Not usually. It gets in the way when I'm working.”

“Pity.”

He'd always loved her hair. Had often begged her never to cut it. That thought had come to mind a couple of times over the years when she'd been tempted just to chop off the whole fiery mess.

“So you don't have any idea what set Mariah off?” Cassie asked, squeezing her hands between her knees.

“Not for sure.” Sam's expression lost the intensely personal look. “We weren't doing anything any different than we'd been doing for the hour or so we'd been playing.”

“You said Sammie yelped. She didn't do anything to frighten Mariah, did she?” Cassie could hardly imagine such a thing. Sammie was too smart, too well-trained, to slip up. Cassie was convinced the dog cared for her charges as much as Cassie did.

“She yelped because Mariah had just yanked out a fistful of her fur.”

Cassie frowned. “So something upset her
before
Sammie made any noise.”

Leaning his elbows on his knees, Sam said, “Obviously.”

“And you noticed nothing different in the room?”

“Nope.” He frowned slightly as he apparently tried to picture the gym in the moments before Sammie yelped. “I'd just gone up for a rebound and landed on the floor, but it wasn't the first time that happened.”

Cassie's mind raced. There had to be something there. Something that might help them understand what Mariah was hiding behind those beautiful blue eyes. “Maybe she thought you were hurt.”

“Actually, my nose was bleeding a little,” he said. “Do you think, considering what she saw the day her parents died...?”

“It
has
to be connected, Sam,” Cassie insisted. “And if we know that much, we can help her. She reacted because she was remembering and—”

“What if we're wrong, Cass?” He voiced his darkest fear. “What if I decide to keep her with me and she never gets better?”

“The same could happen if you send her away.”

Her tone reminded him they'd been through all that. But Sam just couldn't seem to shake the feeling that he was going to let Mariah down somehow.

“Now tell me again about the game,” Cassie continued. “Zack was guarding you, you said.”

“Like a killer whale on a hunk of meat.”

“So he was the one who knocked you down?”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “A couple of basketball players had joined us by that point, and I think it was one of them who caught me on the way down from the rebound.”

Cassie sat up straighter. It took everything Sam had not to pull her up against him. Her warmth would do so much to dissipate the cold that had infiltrated his body.

“I thought you said it was just the four of you.”

He shrugged. “It was, right up until the last few minutes when a couple of guys joined us.”

“Who were the guys? What did they look like?”

Sam threw up his hands, let them fall again. “I don't know. They were a couple of students, Cassie. There was nothing harmful about them, if that's what you're thinking.”

She frowned. “I don't know what I'm thinking, but it seems more than coincidence that she was fine right up until the end. And it was only then that the boys were there.”

Wishing he could smooth that frown from her brow, Sam said, “They did nothing to her. I don't even think they noticed her.”

“What did they look like?”

“I don't know, not threatening.” Sam tried to remember them, but since Mariah's bout, the rest of the afternoon had become a blur to him. “They were pretty tall, I guess. One of them skinnier than the other, but neither one was all that big.” He shook his head again. “I'd never seen them before.”

A spark lit Cassie's eye. “They were strangers. And in her view, they attacked you. They hurt you, made your nose bleed.”

“You may be right,” he said thoughtfully. “The way Zack had been guarding me, it was the first time anyone else got close.” He glanced at Cassie. “And there was blood on my face.”

Cassie leaned forward, touching Sam's hand. “That has to be it. She saw the blood. And didn't you say she watched the terrorists hit her father?”

“You really think she was remembering?”

“I'm almost certain of it.”

“So she hasn't blocked the horror,” Sam said aloud, feeling sick. “She's living with it, day in and day out.”

“Who's to say?” Cassie asked, leaving her hand on top of his. “Maybe she was blocking it until today, and now it's all going to come back to her. Maybe she
needs
to remember in order to heal.”

“Maybe.”

He stared at her. “Do you really think that's it?”

“It's possible, Sam.” Cassie's look was sympathetic. “But it's just as possible that she's been remembering all along, torturing herself for some reason. Until she can talk to us, we just won't know.”

As Sam digested her words, anger, frustration and hopeless despair built inside him. He was solely responsible for another human life, a little girl who was struggling and hurt, and there didn't seem to be a damn thing he could do to help her. What was it with him? Why did he always let down the people he loved?

“Hey.” Cassie's hand traveled up his arm and back again, grabbing his right hand. “She's going to be okay. I really believe that.”

Sam covered her hand with his left. With the exception of the one time he'd done something so reprehensible that he'd had to cut himself off from her, Cassie had always been able to rescue him from the darkness. From the void fashioned within his own mind.

He'd never needed rescuing more than he did that night.

“It's just going to take time. And a lot of love,” Cassie continued through his silence. “We'll reach her, Sam. I know we will.”

He tried to smile, but his jaw was too tight; he squeezed her hand again, instead. He had so many questions and not a single answer. No set course. No right way. He'd never felt so lost.

They sat together, connected, silent, for several minutes. Cassie's warmth seeped into him, reminding him so vividly of how it used to be for them. Every disappointment, every worry, had been diminished by their sharing. With Cassie he'd been completely unguarded. With her he'd felt safe. Until it all started closing in on him...

Sam didn't know when his hold on her changed from seeking comfort to seeking more. The decision was not a conscious one, but rather a progression that was so natural he didn't even see it coming. One minute he was holding her hand, and the next he was caressing the underside of it.