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“No—no thanks,” Cassie said quickly, feeling miserable. She hated turning down Colton’s mother and this chance to help bury some of the bad feelings lingering between the Aldridges and McLeans, but she couldn’t take a chance that Colton might be telling Ivan that he was going to sacrifice himself by marrying Cassie—all because of a baby!
She fairly flew across the arid fields, her hair streaming behind her in the wind. At the fence she ducked quickly, snagging her blouse, feeling the prick of one sharp barb on her back. She didn’t care.
Her fingers fumbled with the reins. The wet leather had partially dried, tightening the knot. “Come on, come on,” she whispered, finally yanking the reins free and jumping onto Tavish’s broad back.
Digging her heels into the gelding’s sides, she urged him into the river, not even noticing the Sage’s icy water against her calves and thighs.
Tavish scrambled up the
bank, and Cassie leaned forward. “Come on, boy—now!” As his hooves found flat ground, she slapped the reins against his shoulder and he bolted, streaking down the path through the trees and across the open, windswept fields. Grasshoppers flew out of Tavish’s path. Jackrabbits scurried through the grass to the protection of brambles. The chestnut’s strides reached full length, and tears blurred Cassie’s vision.
“That’s it,” she whispered, riding low, her legs gripping Tavish’s heaving sides,
She yanked on the reins at the stables, and the gelding slid to a stop. Not bothering to walk him, nor take the bridle from his head, she looped the reins over the top rail and scrambled over the fence only to spy Colton’s Jeep parked in the yard.
“No . . .” she cried. Her throat closed, and for a minute she had to stop and lean against the rough boards of the barn to catch her breath. Maybe it wasn’t too late. He couldn’t have been here long, though the lavender streaks of coming dusk told her that time had passed, perhaps too much time.
With as much dignity as she could muster, she climbed up the steps to the back porch, flung open the door and stepped inside.
Ivan and Colton were in the living room, both standing, surveying each other as if they were mortal enemies. Colton’s back was to the fireplace, where the old clock on the mantel ticked softly near the faded pictures of Cassie’s mother.
“I—I didn’t know you were coming here,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She felt Colton’s gaze on her, knew he could see the tangles in her hair, the flush on her cheeks, the dampness discoloring her skirt.
“I should have called,” Colton said tightly, and she knew instantly that he was furious. His face had whitened under his tan, and his mouth had thinned to a hard, cruel line.
“What in blazes is going on here?” Ivan demanded, hooking an insolent thumb at Colton. “McLean here says he wants to talk to you—alone. When I told him you’d gone riding, he said he’d wait.”
Cassie’s heart dropped through the floor. “It’s—it’s okay, Dad.”
Ivan scowled. “Whatever you have to say to my daughter, you can say to me.”
“I don’t think so,” Colton replied.
“Please, Dad—”
“You know how I feel about this.”
“It won’t take long,” Colton told him.
Ivan hesitated, glanced at Cassie and swore under his breath. “I need a drink,” he said, his eyes narrowing on Colton before turning to Cassie. “I’ll be on the back porch.” With one last disparaging glance at Colton, Ivan strode stiffly into the kitchen, rummaged in the cupboards until he found his favorite bottle of rye whiskey and a glass, then stomped loudly outside. The screen door slammed behind him.
“Is—is something wrong?” Cassie asked, not knowing how to break the ice.
“You tell me,” he said flatly.
“As a matter of fact, there is,” she admitted. “I—I was just over at your place looking for you.”
“Were you?”
She could feel the loathing in Colton’s gaze. His nostrils flared angrily, and disgust curled his lips. Why was he so angry? she wondered . . . and then it hit her. He knew. Somehow, some way, he’d found out! Frigid desperation settled in her soul. “There—there is no baby,” she admitted.
“And you weren’t going to tell me.” His voice sounded flat, lifeless.
“Of course I was. I just wanted to wait until we were alone.” She turned pleading eyes up at him, begging him to understand.
The anger in his eyes died for just an instant, and Cassie’s hopes soared. “When—when did you find out?”
“Last Monday,” she answered, watching in dread as his features hardened to stone.
