Strangers in Paradise (38 page)

She digested the words silently.

“It was about my life, Cass. About finding answers. It was never about sex.” He inhaled a deep breath, knowing this might be his one and only chance to reach her. “I've found my answers, know who I am and where I'm going. And I know that you're the only woman who's ever turned me on to the point of forgetfulness.” He was giving her everything, laying it all at her feet. She deserved that from him. “I swear to you I will never, ever need another woman the way I need you. I will never again make love to another woman as long as I'm with you.”

Cassie turned away from him, but not before he'd seen the fresh tears come to her eyes.

“But you've been with other women, haven't you?” she asked. “In your years away.”

“Not for a long time, honey. Not since I knew there was no point. You were always the woman in my heart.”

Her shoulders held stiffly, she didn't respond.

“Can you honestly tell me the love is gone, Cass?” he asked, risking everything. Was he just kidding himself about the connection between them? The spiritual and physical communion they'd just shared?

“It's too late, Sam,” she said.

“I can't believe that.”

She hadn't denied her love for him. Intuitively, Sam understood that she couldn't.

During his years away, he hadn't always been sure of the bond they shared, but now that he was back, now that he'd seen her again, he knew for certain that what he and Cassie had was stronger than life. Stronger than death.

“Please, just go.”

Sam kneeled there a while longer, watching her. In all that time, she didn't speak another word, but her rigid shoulders told him that what she'd said was true: she needed him to go. His presence here was only causing her more heartache.

He'd promised himself he wouldn't do that.

“Okay, I'm going,” he said, standing, pulling on his shirt, slipping his feet into his sandals. “But I'm not deserting you again, Cass. I love you. And someday, somehow, I'm going to prove that to you.”

* * *

Cassie waited until she heard Sam's truck drive away before she dared to move. Almost immediately, panic set in, taking her breath, her ability to think. She had to get help.

Phyllis would have been a likely candidate, but right now Cassie needed someone who'd already seen her at her worst. Someone she'd trusted for years with her deepest secrets. Someone who wouldn't make her talk about things she couldn't face.

Barefoot and braless, she scrambled frantically around her house, until she remembered that she'd left her purse in the bedroom. She grabbed it, fumbled inside, spilling stuff on the floor until she pulled out her keys.

Thank God, Randi and Zack lived so close. She could make it the couple of blocks from her house to theirs. It was the middle of the night. Shelter Valley streets would be deserted.

She had to get to Zack.

* * *

Sometime after two in the morning, a very disheveled but partially dressed Zack Foster answered his door, still too sleepy to wonder who was there. Sammie was barking beside him. Bear, sleeping in the corner of the foyer, opened one lazy eye. Brat was barking from her kennel in the laundry room, which was right where the dalmatian puppy was going to stay.

He was instantly wide awake when he saw his partner standing barefoot on his porch, her hair a mess.

“Cass?” He flipped on the porch light as he swung the door open. “What's happened?” he asked, his arm around her before the door had even shut.

“Cassie?” Randi met them in the hallway, pulling on a pair of gym shorts. “What's wrong?”

When Cassie burst into tears, Zack's alarm grew.

“I slept with him.”

His eyes met Randi's over Cassie's bent head. Hers said
I told you so.
Zack's heart sank.

“You're a grown woman, Cass,” Randi said, running one hand lightly along Cassie's arm. “You're allowed to do those things.”

Zack's look told Randi in no uncertain terms to shut up.

“Not with Sam,” she said, trying to regain control but not succeeding. Her hair was hanging in her face. Her makeup had long since worn away. Her face was tear-streaked, her expression anguished.

The way she looked brought back memories of old times. Old and very difficult times. Zack was going to kill Sam Montford.

He guided Cassie to the couch in the living room, and he and Randi sat on either side of her. Randi handed her a tissue. Sammie settled at Cassie's feet.

“How'd it happen?” he asked her softly.

“Do you really need to ask?” Randi frowned. “Surely you've figured that out by now.”

Zack knew that Randi didn't think Sam and Cassie together was bad news. She'd been predicting this exact outcome for more than a week. Had a bet with Zack, as a matter of fact, a bet he'd just lost. But he didn't care about any bet with his wife at the moment. What he did care about was his partner's emotional health. She'd fought a long, hard fight to achieve calm and contentment—and then her ex-husband showed up.

“He came over to tell me about Mariah's attack,” Cassie finally said.

Zack nodded. Sam had been distraught, and Zack should've have guessed where the man would go for solace. Zack had sought Cassie's strength himself, back when he'd been struggling with the break-up of his first marriage—struggling with his own sense of identity upon discovering that his first wife was leaving him for another woman.

Cassie had kept him sane back then. It was up to him to keep her sane now.

“How is Mariah?” he asked. One thing at a time. She was calmer. That was the first step.

“Okay.” Cassie nodded her head once, still looking down at her lap. “There's nothing physically wrong with her. She's sedated for the night and has an appointment in Phoenix on Monday.”

“Poor thing,” Randi said. “Her little heart was beating faster than a bird's.”

Zack still felt sick every time he thought about the debilitating fear he'd seen in Sam's daughter that afternoon. He'd felt so helpless, so powerless to do anything. By the look of things, Sam Montford had been feeling the same, but on a bigger scale.

“So how did you get from Mariah's attack to sleeping with him?” Zack asked. No matter how much Sam might be suffering, Zack couldn't feel any real softening toward the guy. His job was to protect Cassie.

Cassie shrugged. “I don't know.” She started to cry softly again. Jumping off the couch, she paced around the living room. Sammie sat at attention, watching her. “I guess because I'm a weak fool.”

Randi shook her head. “Or in love.”

“How can she love him?” Zack asked his wife. “He ran out on her, left her alone to deal with—”

“And now he's back,” Randi interrupted. “I have no idea why Sam did what he did,” she said to Zack, but she was watching Cassie, too. “I do know that up until the point where he screwed up, he was the most reliable kid any of us knew. And it was also obvious that he adored Cassie. You don't just walk away from that if you have a chance to make it right.”

“I think you'd just like to see everyone as happy as we are,” Zack said quietly.

“He said the town put too many expectations on him,” Cassie told them suddenly, frowning as she looked at Randi. Cassie was tearing a tissue apart, stuffing the pieces into her palm. “He didn't want to go into law or politics. The thought of working at Montford, Inc. all day, every day for the rest of his life was killing him. He tried to talk about it—I remember him saying things to me, to his parents, but they just thought he was blowing off steam. I guess I took my cues from them. We all thought he
wanted
the life that had been planned for him. He fit into that mold so perfectly.”

Randi nodded. “It must've been tough growing up the way he did, with everyone deciding who he was going to be the day he was born. The poor guy never had a chance.”

Didn't sound like a whole lot of fun to Zack. What man wouldn't have to fight back?

“He should've gone to Cassie. Not to the arms of another woman,” Zack insisted.

“But weren't you encouraging him to go to law school, just like everyone else?” Randi asked Cassie. “Maybe even expecting it?”

Cassie shrugged, her expression confused. “Maybe. Because that seemed to be the plan. But it never dawned on me that he wouldn't want to.”

“He was young, too, Cassie,” Randi said softly. “Maybe he didn't feel you were really hearing him. Maybe he didn't trust you enough to love him for what he
was,
not for what everyone thought he was going to be. Or maybe he just didn't want to subject you to an entirely different life than the one you wanted—the one you signed on for.”

They were silent for a couple of minutes. Zack was looking for a solution, but the whole thing appeared to be one big screw-up. A lose-lose situation, if he ever saw one. Sam had loved Cassie back then. Cassie had loved Sam. In one way they'd been so close; but in another, their lives were careering in different directions.

And so much had happened since then. So many irrevocable hurts.

“Now what?” he asked.

Cassie tried to smile. “Life goes on.”

Randi threw up her hands. “That's it? You sleep with him...and nothing?”

“What else is there?”

“I don't know. Love, maybe.”

“Don't you see,” Cassie asked, her eyes beseeching as she gazed from one to the other.

For the first time, Zack understood what Randi had seen all along. Cassie still loved her ex-husband. Desperately.

“It doesn't matter if I love him or not. I can't trust him. And I can't forgive him, either.”

“For sleeping with another woman?” Randi asked.

Cassie shook her head, and Zack knew what was coming.

“For deserting me when I needed him most.” The words choked her. “I was a little over two months pregnant when Sam left town.”

Randi sat stock-still. “I'd heard something about a baby,” she whispered.

“Largely due to the stress of Sam's betrayal and desertion, I had a lot of problems with the pregnancy.” She stopped. Took a deep breath. “My daughter died,” Cassie said, her voice breaking.

Zack waited for the rest. The worst part of all.

“And after it was all over, they told me I can't have any more children.”

“Does Sam know?” Randi asked.

Shaking her head, Cassie sniffled, reached for a fresh tissue.

“So you tell him,” Randi said, exasperating Zack with her optimism. And captivating him, as well. “And then you adopt!”

Even as Zack tried to catch Randi's eye, to tell her to shut up, Cassie said, “I can't be with Sam.”

“Why not?” Randi's brows drew together.

“Because although I know logically that Sam's not to blame for Emily's death, my heart still says he is. And I can't forgive him for that.”

Chapter 14

S
am was up all night. The newcomer to Borough Bantam had a plan now. But as was the case with all worthy undertakings, the way was not yet clear. The creatures in the kingdom scurried around as they'd done for years, each week bringing some new crisis that seemed so huge to them and so small to the reader.

To them, all of life was right there in the Borough, their little problems and triumphs of utmost importance. The stories were satirical, and yet the residents of Borough Bantam somehow managed to teach Sam every single week. Essential truths. Life lessons that Sam had learned in Shelter Valley. Lessons he'd taken with him without even realizing it.

He figured his readers must see the value in them, too, since the comic strip was unbelievably successful.

I am. I am. I am.
And then in the bottom corner,
S.N.C.
Sam dropped his pencil. There was something so reassuring about that damn worm.

If he could only figure why, Sam knew he'd have a major problem solved. But as always, the answer eluded him. He folded up the drawings, put them in their envelope and cleaned up, slipping his satchel on the back of the closet shelf.

Borough Bantam was just one more thing the people of Shelter Valley would never understand.

They'd think he was poking fun at them. When in reality he was giving the rest of the world what everyone here in this small town had already discovered. The secrets to a happy life.

* * *

Two weeks passed, and Cassie managed to keep up such an effective semblance of normalcy, she almost convinced herself that she'd survived her weak moment with Sam unscathed.

If only she didn't have to go to bed at night. To sleep. That was where the memories, the desires, and especially the unending regrets attacked her. If she slept, she dreamed. If she was awake, she thought of nothing else. Round and round. How could something be so right and so completely impossible at the same time? How could the same man make her feel so wonderful, so right inside—and so endlessly distraught?

And more to the point, what did she do about it? He'd been patient with her, bringing Mariah for her sessions four times now without any pressure. Not asking anything of her other than that she help his little girl. There'd been no more surprise visits to her house. And when she'd run into him at the diner last week, he'd been congenial. And had left her alone.

She missed him like crazy.

And yet she was relieved.

She was going to have to tell him about their baby. About Emily. There was just no other way to get beyond this whole mess. To find a peaceful place to exist for the rest of her life. She had to get it all out. And she needed him to know.

But not yet. Not until she could at least think about going through that without falling apart. Without accusing him of killing their daughter and destroying any chance she'd ever have of having another child.

Logically, she knew he wasn't really responsible. Any more than she'd been. But in her heart, she also knew that if Sam hadn't deserted her, Emily's chances would have been so much better....

Now, a tiny, almost imperceptible tug on her hand brought Cassie back to the present. Dressed in navy shorts and a white button-up blouse with the sleeves rolled up, her hair in its usual twist, she was walking down Main Street with Mariah. They were on their way to Weber's Department Store, where she was going to buy the little girl a new dress.

She glanced down at her charge. “Did you want something, Mariah?” The little girl slowed as Cassie slowed, stopped as Cassie stopped, but there was no response.

Thinking the child must have tripped, Cassie started to walk again. “You hot, Sammie girl?” Cassie asked.

Panting, the dog looked up at her, but continued trotting beside Mariah. If Sammie was uncomfortable, she didn't seem aware of it.

“What color dress do you want, sweetie?” Cassie asked the little girl. She might as well have been talking to herself. There was no way to be sure the child listened, or comprehended much of what was said to her.

Cassie wondered if the shopping spree was such a great idea. Mariah didn't need any new clothes. She always looked very cute. Today her long black hair hung in two braids down her back, and the little brightly flowered sundress matched her sandals perfectly. They probably wouldn't find anything that fashionable at Weber's. But Cassie was hoping Mariah might enjoy their expedition. Or, at least, find a different environment interesting.

There hadn't been any reaction from Mariah since her “episode,” but the child didn't seem to have gone backward, either. There'd been no resistance to their outings. No more shaking.

The one thing Mariah did seem to respond to was Sammie. If you watched closely enough to tell.

“Wouldn't you hate to be wearing all that fur Sammie's got on?” Cassie asked Mariah. The child walked steadily, but she wasn't staring as vacantly as usual. She seemed almost to be sneaking peeks sideways.

Cassie walked a little faster. And felt another little squeeze on her hand.

Heart beating rapidly, she stopped again, certain now that Mariah was trying to tell her something. “What is it, honey?” she asked, kneeling in front the child.

Mariah's stare instantly became vacant again. But her hand was rubbing Sammie's fur agitatedly. The dog looked over at Cassie, as though expecting some kind of action from her.

Cassie wished the dog could talk. Could tell her what to do. There was no visible sign of distress on the little girl's face, and Cassie straightened. “You just tell me if you need something, Mariah,” she said. “Now, how about we go find some new clothes?” With the child's hand still in hers, Cassie started to walk.

The child refused to move.

Cassie knelt down again. “Sweetie, you can trust me,” she said. “We've been together a lot. I bring Sammie to you every time, and you like Sammie, don't you?”

Mariah didn't even blink.

“Whatever's bothering you, try to let me know. I'll help you.”

Still no response. A couple of people walked by, smiled at Cassie, glanced curiously at the child, and moved on. Mariah didn't even appear to notice them.

“Do you have to go to the potty?” Cassie asked. That had never happened on Cassie's outings with the little girl. Sam always made sure she'd gone just before he brought her.

“Come on,” Cassie said. “We can pop into the ice-cream shop and use the bathroom there.” Mariah liked chocolate ice cream—as long as she could wait until Sam was back before she ate it. “And then we'll have to stop for a scoop of ice cream on our way out.”

Mariah still refused to budge.

Elated, Cassie tried not to smile. Mariah was responding! Cassie could hardly contain her excitement.

Now, if she could just figure out what the hell Mariah was being so adamant about.

“Everything okay?” Liz Meiers, the church choir director, stopped to ask.

“Fine.”
Please go away,
she begged silently. She didn't want anyone scaring the child back into her shell.

Liz moved on, and Cassie put her face close to Mariah's, trying to get the child to focus on her.

“Is it that you don't want to buy new clothes?” she asked next. “We could skip that and settle for a soda at the diner. Or stop at the dime store for some candy. We could even look at the toys.”

They could go back to the park, too, but the idea was to keep Mariah out and among the bustle of strangers. As much of a bustle as they could find in Shelter Valley, anyway.

Cassie had already tried taking the child to the clinic, but Mariah had shown no interest in being there. She'd curled up in the fetal position in a chair, one hand on Sammie, and had laid her head on her knees, waiting for Cassie to say they could go.

“You want to look at the toys?” Cassie asked a second time, starting toward the dime store.

Again, Mariah held her ground.

Cassie was thrilled Mariah was trying to communicate with her. And she felt a terrible sense of urgency, a need to figure out exactly what the child was trying to say.

“Sammie,
you
know what she wants, don't you?” Cassie said.

Mariah's hand stilled on Sammie's head, and her eyes turned to the side again.

“Sammie and I are both here, willing to help, honey. I just don't know what the problem is. Can't you please tell me?”

The child didn't respond. Didn't even blink.

They were attracting a bit of a crowd. Cassie had to get rid of these people. She had to find out what Mariah was telling her before the child escaped inside herself again.

With Mariah's hand still firmly in hers, she turned away from the little girl, addressing the small concerned gathering quietly. “She's going to be fine, Mrs. Morten,” she said to the seventyish woman, a client of Cassie's who had three cats at home. “All of you, she's going to be fine. We just need to be alone for a couple of min—”

The sound behind her was so foreign that Cassie stopped mid-sentence, frozen. Afraid to turn around.

“Sam.” It came again. Very clear. And tinged with anxiety. “My daddy Sam.”

Spinning, Cassie stared. Mariah was leaning over, her small lips barely moving as she addressed the dog at her side. She wanted Sam—her father—and she was trying to get word to Sammie without alerting anyone around her.

Tears flooded Cassie's eyes. She grabbed the child in her arms, holding her, hugging her. Whirling in a circle, while the crowd around them grew. Everyone was smiling. A few had tears in their eyes, though they probably weren't all aware of what they'd just witnessed.

“Welcome home, little Mariah,” Cassie said, tears dripping unashamedly down her face. “Welcome home.”

The little girl's stare was vacant again. She held herself stiffly against Cassie. But Cassie knew they'd broken through. Mariah was coming back to them.

“You want Sam?” Cassie asked, setting the little girl down. “Then let's go find him.”

Smiling at the congratulatory people around them, Cassie took Mariah's hand and started off toward the park.

The little girl jerked on Cassie's hand, pulling her around the other way.

Sharing a puzzled glance with Mrs. Morten, who waved Cassie on, Cassie allowed the child to lead her back the way they'd come, to an alley that ran between the hardware store and the dentist's office.

And there, just around the corner, where the child had probably seen him from her peripheral vision as they walked by, sat Sam on a stoop, his head in his hands. Looking like he didn't have a friend in the world.

Hearing them approach, he raised his head. The instant terror in his face as his eyes darted from Mariah to Cassie's tear-stained face tore at Cassie's heart, but all she could do was smile at him.

This was his daughter's show.

Mariah walked up to Sam, slid her tiny hand into his. And that was all. She'd obviously done what she needed to do.

Sammie sat beside Cassie, tongue hanging out of her mouth, obviously proud of her day's work.

Which left Cassie to explain.

“She said your name, Sam!” Cassie said. “She saw you sitting here! She just led me back to you! She must have thought you were in trouble, needed help. She never came after you for herself, when you left her in the park and she wanted you, but she insisted that we come for you when she thought you were in trouble!” Cassie's words tumbled out, one on top of the other.

Sam's eyes widened as he glanced quickly from her to his daughter and back again. “You're certain?”

“I heard her, Sam. She said your name twice.”

Looking dazed, as though he didn't dare believe that the nightmare could be coming to an end, Sam knelt beside the child, taking both of her shoulders in his hands. “Mariah Glory Montford, if you've got words in your head, I expect to hear them,” he said sternly, though his voice wobbled just a bit with emotions barely held in check.

Cassie didn't even try to wipe away the tears still dripping slowly down her cheeks. “Don't expect too much too soon,” she warned him.

“When I wasn't sure she
could
talk to me, there was nothing I could do,” Sam said, still watching Mariah intently, his eyes bright. “If my little girl's in there, listening to me, then I want her out here where I can have some of the fun, too.”

Mariah didn't move, her face expressionless, her eyes trained on Sam's chest.

Sammie stood up, not quite at attention, but watching Mariah and Sam closely. Again, Cassie wondered how much the dog sensed.

Just when Cassie thought Mariah had given them all she had, all she could give them that day, the child's head lifted. Her eyes focused on Sam's. She didn't say anything, but there was no doubt that she was connecting.

Sam's lips trembled. And his eyes filled with tears. “Welcome back, squirt,” he said, breaking into a huge smile. “I've missed you.”

Gathering Mariah into his arms, he hugged her fiercely, lifting her so her legs dangled in front of him. “I've missed you
so
much.” His eyes were shut tight as he buried his face against her hair.

Mariah's bony little arms stole up Sam's chest and locked themselves around his neck.

Cassie stood there watching them, and started to sob.

* * *

At home that night, sitting in the living room with his parents, Sam was still grinning inside. Mariah was upstairs, in bed asleep. Sam had placed the receiver to the monitor system he'd bought months ago on the end table next to him. The base was upstairs right beside his sleeping daughter. He used to listen for Mariah's breathing, or any sounds of distress. Tonight, he was wondering if she just might talk in her sleep.

The three of them had yet to hear her say a word.

But you wouldn't know that, judging by the celebration held that evening. Carol, with occasional bouts of happy tears, had prepared Mariah's favorite foods—or what Sam could remember of them. Hot dogs. Mashed potatoes. Canned peaches. And for dessert, she'd made the chocolate chip cookies Sam had been telling Mariah about for months.