Lenora Worth - A Southern Reunion

Marcus opened his eyes, but the vacant darkness she saw in them caused Cassie to step back. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Gennie, I’m so sorry. I tried to forgive her. I really did, darlin’.” He coughed, his eyes wild now. “But she looks too much like you.”

He dropped back to sleep.

Cassie gasped and turned away, the tears she’d held at bay all day long pricking at her eyes. Was her father talking about her? Everyone told her she looked just like her mother and she’d always believed that was part of why he found it so unbearable to be around her.

Just the thought of it made her feel sick to her stomach.

When she felt Cal’s hand on her arm, she recoiled from the heat of it. “I’m okay. Just go.”

“No,” he said, dragging her toward the door. “No. You’re coming with me so we can discuss this. I should have explained first thing this morning when you got here.”

She couldn’t speak so she allowed him to get her out of that suffocating room. Once out in the hallway, she pulled loose of his grasp. “I was right. You’re going to take over Camellia Plantation, aren’t you? You somehow managed to get back in with my father and now you’re like a vulture waiting to pick his carcass. And you greet me at the door with…that woman. Is Marsha in on this with you, Cal? Is she?”

CAL COULDN’T BELIEVE the things coming out of her mouth. He’d done Cassie wrong all those years ago, but did she actually think he’d somehow managed to maneuver into position over her father’s deathbed? Chalking it up to shock and grief, he cut her some slack but he couldn’t get past his own frustrations and anger.

“You must really hate me,” he said, seeing what looked like hatred in her cold blue eyes. “You can’t honestly believe I’d be so cruel.”

“I don’t know what to believe,” she said, her eyes misty, her tone low and unsure. “I’m sorry, but I just wish—”

The sound of a car door slamming caused her to stop. “I’m going upstairs to my room.”

“Cassie, you need to go over the books with me. So I can show you that you’re wrong.”

Teresa stepped into the hallway. “That’s the night nurse. Cal, let Cassie get some rest. Tomorrow is soon enough to get down to business.”

“You knew about this, too?” Cassie asked the housekeeper, her voice rising.

“Honey, I know about a lot of things,” Teresa replied, lowering her voice as the back door swung open. “But until you’re ready to listen, it won’t matter what we tell you.”

Cal watched as Cassie went into debutante mode, her back going straight, her cool resolve slipping back into place while she closed her eyes to shut down the tears. “You’re right, of course. I’m exhausted and I’m not thinking rationally. I shouldn’t be lashing out at Cal. But tomorrow, I want the truth. From both of you. I mean it, Cal. If I don’t get some answers, I’ll have to figure it out for myself. But I’m hoping you won’t force me to do that.”

She nodded to the shocked woman standing at the door. “I’m Cassandra Brennan, Marcus Brennan’s daughter.”

The hefty red-haired woman stepped forward, apparently undaunted by Cassie’s cold demeanor. “I’m Sharon Clark. Your daddy mentions you all the time.”

Cassie’s manners kicked in to cover her discomfort and pain. She shook the woman’s hand. “It’s good to meet you. Can I go over his medication schedule with you before I go upstairs?”

“Of course,” the woman replied, clearly confused. “I’ll get his chart.”

Cassie nodded and followed the woman into the kitchen.

Cal shook his head at Teresa’s warning look then went out the back door, slamming it behind him.

Now he could put her out of her mind, the way he’d done so many times before. But he’d never be able to forget the indignant expression on her face when she’d accused him.

The woman would never trust him again. And he needed her trust now more than ever.

CASSIE WOKE WITH A START, shadows of dusk washing her bedroom in a golden-hued sheen.

Then she remembered how she and Cal had eaten an early dinner before she’d gone back in with her father. The night nurse had come in and they’d discussed his medications. Marcus had finally settled down for the night, so she’d come upstairs to rest and she’d fallen asleep. It was only eight o’clock.

She’d been dreaming about the day her mother died. She’d had this dream many times over the last few years. Two therapists and lots of long discussions hadn’t kept the dream away. Always inside the dream she was running from something she didn’t want to face.

Well, she didn’t want to face her father’s death and she didn’t want to face Cal ever again. He’d become a coconspirator with her powerful father and she wasn’t sure she could forgive and forget on that front. Just being back here a day had set her back years in emotional security. No wonder she was having nightmares.

She sat up, staring at the digital clock. Out of habit, she got up and went to the ceiling-to-floor window and stared out into the coming night. Not surprised to find a light on in Cal’s house, she thought back over their conversation earlier today. She knew Cal. Or she had once known Cal. The old Cal had probably been honest with her up until that horrible time when her world had fallen apart. He’d told her about his life before he’d come to Camellia, endearing Cassie to him even more. But his betrayal with Marsha had cut too deeply for her to think about that or to trust him now. Cassie had never understood why he’d turned to Marsha right after her mother’s death. She’d needed him then, but she didn’t need him now. Just knowing the other woman had been hanging around made her sick to her stomach.

Back then, she’d never given him a chance to explain. Now she needed explanations and suddenly, he’d become even more noncommunicative.

“I still know you, Cal,” she whispered now. “I know your heart. You always were a decent person.” Feeling mortified about the way she’d treated him, Cassie decided she couldn’t put all the blame on Cal. He’d at least stepped in to help her father when she wasn’t around.

Cal wasn’t one to lie and keep secrets even if she had accused him of those things, but his refusal to tell her everything right up front grated at her raw nerve endings like barbed wire. He’d betrayed her with Marsha all those years ago, but she’d never once asked him why. She’d been too hurt, too confused, to bother asking. So she’d just left.

But now, she’d come back and demanded answers to questions she’d long ago tried not to ask. No wonder Cal didn’t want to be honest with her. She hadn’t exactly been a model daughter. And she certainly hadn’t tried to fight for Cal’s love.

Maybe she still didn’t want to know the answers to those questions. But it did make her think about her part in all of this. Cal had never had a real home but he felt at home here. She couldn’t deny him that. And somehow, in spite of his horrible upbringing, he’d turned out to be a decent, hardworking man. Maybe he was trying to help and nothing more.

But what about her? Now that the dreams were coming back, she had to wonder if she’d held some deep dark secret locked away in her heart. Did she know something, something so horrible she’d buried it beneath her guilt and her pain?

“Impossible,” she whispered to the night. Grabbing her robe, she decided to head down to the kitchen to make a cup of chamomile tea. It was the only way she’d ever get back to sleep. She’d check on her father and see if the nurse needed a break.

She hurried past the two upstairs guest rooms at the center of the big square-framed house, then moved past the master bedroom—the room her parents had always shared. It was an enormous suite located on the opposite side of the house from her room. It took up that whole side of the house and mirrored her room since it also included a setting room, a dressing room and large closet and a bathroom.