Last One Home Page 8

  “Neither. Dad knew some people who had acreage near Colville, which is a town north of Spokane. A bubbling brook that had fish ran through their property, and Dad got permission to camp out there. It was an adventure—no one else around. We had the entire field to ourselves …” Or so they’d thought, Cassie remembered, smiling now at the memory.

  “Were you excited to go fishing?”

  “We all were. Karen kept saying if she had to put a worm on the hook she refused to fish, and Nichole stood on the edge of the stream and called out, ‘Here, fishy, fishy.’ She seemed to think she could lure them onto the land so she could scoop up a fish with her bare hands, and then when Dad caught one she wanted to name it.”

  Amiee giggled. “How old was she?”

  Cassie had to think about that. “There’s a four-year span between the two of us, so she would have been around five or six at the time.”

  “Did you have fun?”

  “We did until Karen woke us up, screaming hysterically.”

  Cassie could feel her daughter relax against her. She enjoyed hearing these stories as much as Cassie enjoyed telling them.

  “What happened?” Amiee asked. “Why was Karen screaming? Did a bear come after her?” Wild animals were always a concern to Amiee.

  “Not a bear; it was something else.”

  “Tell me, Mom, don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “Okay, okay, remember I told you that a friend of my dad’s owned this property? What he failed to mention was that he’d leased the land to a local rancher who raised cattle. And, in case you didn’t know, cattle are curious animals. They wanted to find out what that funny-looking structure was in the middle of the field, so they came to investigate.” Cassie struggled not to laugh out loud. “We were surrounded by cattle. They leaned against the tent and toppled the table with the cookstove, and then, to complicate everything, the tent collapsed.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Can you picture that?” Cassie asked. “Mom, Karen, and Nichole panicked while Dad and I tried in vain to get the tent back up.” It’d been dreadful at the time, but the story had Cassie smothering her own giggles.

  “Mom, Mom, stop … I have more questions.”

  Cassie wiped the mirth from her eyes. “Sorry. It’s been a lot of years since that happened. I’d nearly forgotten about it.”

  “Did you ever go fishing in the brook, and did you catch anything?”

  “I did,” she boasted proudly. “I hooked a trout and it was a large one, bigger than any my dad caught.”

  “Did Karen or Nichole catch a fish?”

  “No. Nichole never gave up on the idea she could catch them with her hands. Dad said Karen had to bait her own hook and she refused.” The three sisters had bickered on the long ride home. In retrospect, Cassie realized Karen had been jealous of her. She’d taunted Cassie mercilessly, simply because she’d caught a fish and Karen hadn’t. It was Karen’s own fault, but she didn’t see it that way.

  According to Karen, Cassie caught that fish because she was their father’s favorite, which made no logical sense. This rift between them—over Cassie being the favorite—was the cause of so much jealousy.

  At age ten she thought Karen had it wrong and that her sister was being ridiculous. In retrospect, she realized her sister was right. Her father did favor Cassie. He’d found a way later that same summer to get her a piano, for one thing. And she was the only one he let trail along with him when he ran errands.

  Cassie was the daughter with the good grades, the fearless one, blessed with what he called grit. She was like the son he never had. He taught both her and Karen how to change a flat tire, but it was Cassie he showed how to check the car engine and how to change the oil. When Cassie turned sixteen he’d promised her his mother’s cameo and said Cassie could wear it on her wedding day. Instead she’d run away and married Duke just weeks before she was scheduled to leave for college.

  The cameo.

  Like the story of camping in the open field, Cassie hadn’t thought about the cameo in years. The memory brought with it an ache—it seemed to symbolize everything she had lost when she became estranged from her family. The cameo was the most precious jewelry her grandmother had owned, and her own mother had worn it on her wedding day. She wondered which sister it had gone to after she left home.

  The soft, even breaths of her daughter told Cassie that Amiee had fallen asleep. Gently, she swept the hair off the twelve-year-old’s forehead and brushed her lips over the smooth skin of her daughter’s cheek.

  Pressing her head down against the soft pillow, Cassie closed her eyes as scenes from her childhood played through her mind like an old silent movie.

  There’d been good times and bad times with her two sisters. As the three had grown older they’d had some wretched fights, but their disagreements never lasted long. At one time the three of them had been close. Even now Cassie found it hard to believe that she had gone years without talking to her sisters. Those years seemed like an entire lifetime.

  Sunday morning Cassie had to be at CenturyLink Field by nine. Russell, Rosie’s cousin, had her fill out the proper paperwork, gave her a uniform complete with an apron, and assigned her six suites. Her job was simple enough: She was to deliver the food order each suite owner had emailed the Wednesday before the game. This was a golden opportunity and she was anxious to do everything right. She needed this job, even if it meant she had to work seven days this week. Too much was at stake.

  Never having been inside CenturyLink Field before—let alone attend a Sounders game—Cassie was amazed at the size of the stadium. A light mist had started to fall, but a little rain didn’t discourage the fans’ enthusiasm. They crowded into the stands as an air of excitement filled the stadium. Cassie couldn’t help but feel it herself.

  The suites were luxurious and for the most part empty while she delivered the first round of the orders. She filled all the refrigerators with the drinks, mostly beer and soda. She noticed Russell kept close tabs on her, which caused her to work all the harder. She double-checked to make sure she had the right order in each suite.

  Behind the scenes, the activity was fairly hectic.

  Cassie’s next job was to deliver the hot food about thirty minutes before the Sounders match officially started. Everything was going well until she entered Suite 36.

  “Hello. Are you one of the servers?” A strikingly lovely blond woman approached Cassie. She was dressed in skin-tight jeans and wore a bright lime green and blue Sounders jersey.

  “Yes,” Cassie said. “How can I help you?”

  “There’s no Olympia beer in the suite. I only drink Olympia beer.”

  Cassie didn’t recall seeing that brand of beer on the list. “I’m so sorry, please let me check. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  “I know it sounds superstitious, but whenever I’ve had an Olympia when I watch a Sounders game, they win.” The woman had unbelievably long black eyelashes, and her dark brown eyes were wide.

  “I’ll find out right away and be back in a flash.” Cassie raced out of the suite, hoping to find Russell. It took her ten minutes to locate him, and when she found him, he looked at her impatiently. “Why aren’t you delivering the hot entrées?” he demanded.

  “A lady in Suite Thirty-six wants Olympia beer.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, she says the Sounders could lose the match if she doesn’t have Olympia beer.”

  Russell frowned and shook his head. “We don’t carry that brand. The beverage list is detailed and specific. Tell her she’s out of luck.”

  Cassie hated the thought of returning with bad news. “Is there a brand that’s similar that I could take to her?”

  “I suppose,” he said with some reluctance, “but adding any additional beverages means an extra charge to the suite owner, and that has to be approved beforehand.”

  “I understand,” Cassie said, and hurried back to inform the blond woman of what she’d learned.

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bsp; When she returned, the suite was full and people were mingling around. As soon as she stepped into the room, the blonde was there. “What took you so long?” she asked impatiently. “The match is about to start.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Cassie said, doing her best to be as polite as possible. After being married to Duke, she’d had a lot of practice looking demure and regretful. She kept her gaze lowered and hands neatly folded in front of her. “Apparently, the caterer doesn’t carry Olympia beer. I do apologize.”

  “I thought you understood.” The other woman elevated her voice and flung her hands out as though distraught.

  “We carry a similar brand, but it has to be ordered through the suite owner.” Her words were followed by a short silence.

  “What’s your name?” the woman demanded.

  “Cassie.”

  “Cassie what?”

  “Cassie Carter.”

  “Is there a problem?” a man asked. He stood next to the woman, but all Cassie saw was his feet.

  Even then she knew. Although she kept her gaze lowered, she immediately recognized the man’s voice.

  Steve Brody.

  Cassie wanted to curl into a tight ball and disappear. How humiliating to run into him. Though it was the last thing she wanted to do, she jerked her head up and met his eye. Squaring her shoulders, she silently stood her ground.

  “This … this server refused to get me my Olympia beer.”

  Cassie longed to defend herself, but she kept silent. She had refused the other woman nothing. In fact, she’d done everything humanly possible to get her what she wanted.

  “Is that true, Cassie?” he asked.

  The blonde whirled around to face Steve. “You know her?”

  He waited an uncomfortable moment before he answered. “We’ve met.”

  “Really?” The blonde gave Cassie the once-over and snorted softly.

  “Come on, Britt, the match is about to start.”

  “But the Sounders could lose if I don’t have my Olympia beer.”

  “The Sounders will just have to do their best without it,” he said, steering Britt away from Cassie.

  Relaxing her shoulders, Cassie left the suite, surprised to find that she was shaking. It was more than having to deal with that unreasonable woman. Meeting up with Steve Brody was bad enough, but then for him to show such reluctance to admit he knew her had been mortifying.

  Cassie finished delivering the hot dishes to the suites assigned to her, and by the end of the day she felt like she’d walked fifty miles.

  Distressed and irritated, she was eager to get home. On the way, she stopped off at Rosie’s to collect Amiee.

  It was after seven by the time she arrived. “How’d it go?” Rosie asked expectantly.

  Cassie swallowed tightly. “Not so good, I’m afraid.”

  Shock showed on Rosie’s face. “What happened? I told Russell you’re an excellent worker and I personally vouched for you.”

  “I know and I’m sorry. Unfortunately, Russell said he wouldn’t be able to use me again.”

  Amiee came to stand next to her mother. “Mom?” Her big brown eyes stared up at Cassie.

  Cassie didn’t feel she had any choice but to explain. “Someone complained about me. She asked me to get a particular brand of beer for her, and because I took the time to try to fill her request, I was late delivering the hot entrées to the other suites. Russell said he was sorry, but his job is to keep the suite owners happy. He couldn’t risk something like this happening a second time.”

  “Oh Cassie, I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Yes, I am, too.” And the worst part of it was that she’d need to face Steve Brody again later in the week.

  Chapter 9

  The text on Steve Brody’s cell was a request from Megan Victory from the Habitat for Humanity office, asking if he wouldn’t mind stopping by when it was convenient. Whatever it was, she clearly didn’t feel comfortable talking via the phone.

  Stop by when it was convenient. With his hectic schedule, convenient wasn’t part of his vocabulary. His day was busy enough and he didn’t need anything more piled on his plate. Still, if Megan asked to see him, then clearly something important was on her mind.

  Steve’s work with the humanitarian group had helped him deal with the unrelenting grief he’d endured after Alicia’s death. If he could find a way to work from dawn to dusk, keep his mind busy and his body physically exhausted, he might distract himself long enough to find some peace. He might be able to forget the helplessness he’d felt watching the woman he loved breathe her last breath.

  He wished he could say his plan worked. It hadn’t. Nothing did.

  Alicia was never far from his thoughts, even now, three years later. The only antidote to this pain, he discovered, was time. As the weeks and months passed he found it somewhat easier to function. He kept an emotional distance from most everyone. That was necessary because he’d learned that caring and loving put his heart at risk. He’d been badly hurt once, and he wasn’t game for a second round.

  The one exception had been a gentle-natured eight-year-old boy. He was the grandson of Joe Osborne, who owned a large electrical-supply company where Steve bought his materials. For whatever reason, Jeremy had taken a liking to Steve. Joe had brought his grandson onto the job site with him when Steve was there and the boy had looked at Steve with wide, adoring eyes. Even now Steve wasn’t sure what the kid saw in him; perhaps he recognized the longing Steve held deep in his heart for a son one day. Whatever it was, Jeremy pestered Joe until he took the youngster to see Steve again. Jeremy had asked Steve to help him build a small wooden car for a Cub Scout event, and they’d been pals ever since.

  It was through Jeremy that Steve met Britt, Jeremy’s divorced mother, though he wasn’t nearly as fond of her as he was of her son. Steve had dated Britt a couple times, but no way was he serious about her. The truth was he didn’t feel the least bit of physical attraction for Britt. She was pretty, that was sure, but she had an edge to her that he found off-putting. The only reason he’d gone out with her those few times was because he couldn’t help thinking how perfect it would be if he could have fallen for Jeremy’s mother. But he didn’t want to lead Britt into thinking that he was interested in her romantically, because at this point he could tell it wasn’t happening.

  Technically, Steve wasn’t employed by Habitat—all his work was volunteer. His supervisor, Stan Pearson, was a paid full-time employee, and generally he’d be overseeing the volunteers’ work on every phase of construction. However, with Steve’s vast knowledge base, that wasn’t necessary.

  Steve was able to tear himself away from his own job site around four, which gave him only an hour to stop off at Habitat’s offices before heading over to work on the Youngs’ house.

  Cassie Carter was scheduled to work that evening. She was an interesting character—now, there was a woman with spunk. Steve doubted that she backed down from anything. He’d never known a woman with more expressive eyes. He could see how difficult it had been for her to bite her tongue when Britt made her unreasonable demand for the beer. He gave Cassie credit, though: She’d been a picture of politeness.

  Steve had been surprised to find Cassie working the Sounders game. It appeared she worked two jobs in addition to putting in her Habitat hours. She certainly didn’t stand still for long.

  Britt’s overreaction to the fact Cassie couldn’t get her what she wanted had embarrassed Steve. The minute she learned that he knew Cassie, Britt had peppered him with questions about the other woman, hounding him for information, asking if they’d ever dated. She’d come off like a jealous shrew. Steve regretted even attending the game with her.

  Joe Osborne had won the use of the suite in a charity auction and had invited Steve to join him and his daughter and some other guests. Jeremy had spent the weekend with his mostly absent father and wasn’t at the match. If Steve had known beforehand that Jeremy wasn’t going to be there, he wasn’t sure he would have accepted the i
nvitation, although he had to admit that watching the game itself had been a lot of fun. The only downside was Britt, who’d behaved like a spoiled brat. Despite her dire predictions, the Sounders won even though she wasn’t able to drink her favorite beer.

  Megan Victory was at her desk when Steve arrived. She glanced up when he stepped into her office. Right away he noticed that her usual warm smile was missing.

  “Trouble?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What’s the problem?” he asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down. Something told him this wasn’t going to be a short conversation.

  “You’re still working with Cassie Carter, right?”

  “Right.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  His response was automatic and quick. “Great. She’s a good worker. I give her a task and she does it.” He liked a conscientious worker with a willing attitude. Maybe they’d started off on the wrong foot, but both their attitudes had evened out since their rocky start.

  “Have you noticed anything different about her lately?”

  He shrugged. “Not really.” Then he remembered Cassie had gone suspiciously compliant of late. It was out of character for her. True enough, she showed up on time, worked hard, but they’d barely exchanged a word all week. “Let me revise that. She’s been keeping to herself a lot. I mean, she’s friendly with the Youngs, but other than that, nothing. Why?”

  “She was in the office on Wednesday.”

  Her leaned slightly forward. Now that she mentioned it, Cassie hadn’t been her normal self all week. He’d been busy with other matters and hadn’t paid much attention. “What’s the problem?”

  “Cassie’s feeling down and overwhelmed. She’s juggling a lot and concerned about leaving her daughter alone as much as she does.” Megan hesitated. “It seemed that there was a lot more bothering her than that, though. Do you know what the problem is?”

  He shook his head and then frowned and asked the question that immediately came to mind. “Cassie’s not thinking of dropping out, is she?” It would shock him if she did. He’d overheard a conversation between Cassie and Shelly Young when Cassie had explained how excited and pleased she was to have been accepted into the program. She claimed this opportunity meant the world to her.