Lenora Worth - A Southern Reunion

Cal tugged her back. “This is not a lie.”

“But everything else is. Something isn’t right here and no one will tell me the truth.”

He pushed his hand through her hair, tugged her even closer. “I only know that I came back here for you. And that is the one truth you need to remember.”

Then he kissed her, his touch tentative and tender until Cassie sighed and returned the kiss, her arms grasping him and holding him close. Cal wrapped her in his embrace, his touch demanding and deepening until she felt herself falling into a blinding mist of longing.

Dear Reader,

I have always loved a good Southern gothic saga. So I was thrilled to be able to finally write the one that has been in my head for many years. This was a complex story, and I admit I struggled with it a bit. But I’m pleased with the final product. I hope you will be, too.

When ready-to-wear designer Cassandra Brennan returns to Camellia Plantation in South Georgia, she finds several surprises waiting for her—the main one being the man who broke her heart years ago. Her estranged father is dying, and Cal Collins seems to be taking over her beloved home. But as revelations keep coming, Cassie finds things are not always what they seem, and she also discovers that even though she still loves Cal, he might be involved in an elaborate plot to keep her from finding out what really happened the day her beautiful socialite mother died.

I grew up in a big Southern family, so I know a thing or two about secrets and scandals. But in the South, we tend to bring out our eccentric family members and show them off! In Cassie’s case, however, she was embarrassed and ashamed that her own father had scorned her. The truth turned out to be a test of her love for Cal.

I hope you enjoy A Southern Reunion. I’d love to hear from you. Please visit my website at www.lenoraworth.com and send me a message. I’d appreciate your feedback.

Lenora Worth

www.millsandboon.co.uk

New York Times bestselling author Lenora Worth has written more than forty books for three different publishers. Her career with Love Inspired Books spans close to fourteen years. Her very first Love Inspired, The Wedding Quilt, won Affaire de Coeur’s Best Inspirational for 1997, and Logan’s Child won Best Love Inspired for 1998 from RT Book Reviews. With millions of books in print, Lenora continues to write for Love Inspired and Love Inspired Suspense. Lenora also wrote a weekly opinion column for the local paper and worked freelance for years with a local magazine. She has now turned to full-time fiction writing and enjoying adventures with her retired husband, Don. Married for thirty-five years, they have two grown children. Lenora enjoys writing, reading and shopping…especially shoe shopping.

To my darling Big Daddy, my husband Don.

You were the first person to ever read the original

version of this story. Thanks for sticking with me

for all these years.

We’ve come full circle.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

THREE THINGS HAPPENED the same week ready-to-wear designer Cassandra Brennan announced she’d be opening two more Cassie’s Closet boutiques in the metro Atlanta area.

She broke up with her fiancé, Ned Patterson.

Her estranged father sent word that he was dying and he wanted her to come home.

And once she arrived home, the man who had been her first love in high school walked out onto the front porch of Camellia Plantation with his arms around the woman who’d come between them. And he still looked good doing it, too.

The house hadn’t changed all that much in the past twelve years. But everything else certainly had.

Why was Cal Collins back at Camellia? And what was he doing with Marsha Reynolds? Last she’d heard, after Cassie had caught them together and broken up with Cal, things hadn’t worked out for Cal and Marsha after all. Too bad. And too bad they’d decided to take right back up on the very day she’d driven the four hours from Atlanta to get here.

Anxious to get inside and see her father, Cassie swallowed and inhaled a deep breath. She could do this. She had to do this.

Memories danced into her head, taunting her, some beautiful, some tragic. Cassie tried deep breathing, her breath stopping near her rib cage. The old camellia bushes, from which the plantation had gotten its name, grew with a lush abandonment all over the side yards and in front of the pool, their velvet pink blooms popping and exploding in the sun like clusters of chiffon.

She and Cal used to meet each other in the shadows of those tall, rich green bushes. Usually they’d sneak out at midnight after her parents had gone to bed. Cassie would leave by the French doors in her room that opened onto the upstairs porch and make her way down the outside staircase.

But everything had changed. In the blink of an eye, she lost her mother to a tragic horseback-riding accident, lost the man she loved to another woman and lost the father she’d always adored because of something she’d done or said during that horrible week.

Bracing herself, Cassie got out of her late model convertible and slammed the door hard enough to get the attention of the couple on the porch. She wanted to tell them to get a room. She wanted to scratch Marsha’s green eyes right out of her head. And she wanted to grab Cal by the collar and ask him why he’d hurt her so badly.

But she didn’t do any of those things.

A Brennan didn’t act like a redneck.

A Brennan held everything inside and was always, always civilized and polite. And she wouldn’t make a scene when her father lay dying just beyond that front door.

Cal turned then, his eyes meeting hers as he held a hand on Marsha’s bare arm. “Cassie.”

Cassie’s heart pumped against her ribs, trying to beat a path out of her body. Just hearing him say her name in that low drawl caused a hot chill to run over her. She thought about turning around and heading back to Atlanta. But she’d been running for way too long now. Her father needed her, even if he hated to admit that.

And she needed him. She’d been waiting far too long. She wouldn’t let anything or anyone stand in the way of this homecoming. Not even Cal Collins. So she stiffened her spine and held her head up high.

“Hello, Cal. Marsha—long time, no see. Looks like nothing much has changed around here.”

Cal didn’t say anything. He just stared at her long enough to make her sweat. But then, it was late spring in south Georgia. It was hot all the way around.

She stared right back at him, hoping her hurt and fear and confusion didn’t show in her eyes.

His dark hair hung in thick chocolate-colored chunks around his ears and neck. He looked the same but different, his cotton work shirt stretched across a broad back, his worn jeans low-slung and not too tight. When they’d parted they’d both still been in their teens.