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She pulls into another driveway and turns the engine off before looking at me.
“You make it sound effortless.”
“It’s supposed to be.”
The phone buzzes for the third time since we left the house. Cassie answers in what I’ve come to learn as her forced happy voice. I overhear another request for three dozen cookies, but this time they’re for the social after church. These constant requests of her time shouldn’t bother me, but when I see the tired expression haunting her eyes, I can’t help but get upset. She gives so much of her time, and I hate these people taking advantage of her.
“Why do you stretch yourself so thin?” My tone comes across harsher than intended and causes her to flinch. I sigh and apologize. “It just seems like you’re doing everything possible for everyone else, but not taking care of yourself. You’re committed to what, six dozen cookies now?”
She stares out the window and nods. “I know. I should learn to delegate better or say no. It’s just I’m trying not to make waves. I want this church rummage sale to go smoothly. A lot is riding on it. The proceeds go toward filling the food pantry. This year’s goal is to raise fifty thousand. I have calls to various vendors. We get donations for the sale, but we also get a price match. This food pantry feeds several families in the surrounding community, so it’s pretty vital to make it a success.”
“That’s a great cause and all, but who ran it before?”
“My mom.”
Well, if that doesn’t make me feel like an asshole.“I can see why you’re so passionate about it.”
“Before she passed, I told her not to worry about the rummage sale. I’d take charge.” She gets a sad but almost dreamy look. “That seemed to relieve her. And my dad was actually proud.”
“So you’re doing this in her memory,” I state rather than ask. When she nods, I open the truck door. “I think it’s honorable, really. But I want you to take care of yourself in the process.”
“I will. I promise.”
At her smile, I hop out of the truck. “All right, let’s tackle this chair.”
Chapter Sixteen
DALTON
I scratch my head,staring at what looks like something out of a gentlemen’s club back in early England. “This isn’t a chair. It’s a beast.”
“It’s a nineteenth-century Victorian Chesterfield chaise. The brown leather may be scuffed in places, but the walnut legs are in excellent condition.”
“It looks heavier than the dresser.”And awkward as fuck.At least with the dresser, we could remove the drawers to lessen the weight. This thing is top-heavy with the high Chesterfield back wrapping around the end where people sit. The backing tapers to within a couple of inches of where the feet go.
“Don’t be such a wimp.” Cassie smacks my arm playfully.
“Wimp? Not me. I was thinking about you and your scrawny arms.”Those rather beautiful arms that lead to delicate hands and fingers I want to wrap around mine and other parts of my body.
She tips her head back in laughter.Aw, there’s that relaxed, carefree girl I knew back in Bellow Bay. Ever since I arrived, she has been uptight. At first, I attributed that to my presence, but it never ceases and seems to worsen when her dad is around. It’s as if she can’t fully relax and be herself around him. I know the feeling all too well, but he doesn’t seem to abuse her physically, unlike my dad.
“I’ll have you know I can bench press fifty-five pounds.”
“Now that I’d like to see.” Any time she’s sweaty and breathy, I’d like to see.
As if reading my mind, a nice rosy color flames her cheeks. I can’t help but wonder if her thoughts are as dirty as mine.
She clears her throat. “Anyway, this particular piece is worth a heck of a whole lot more than the dresser.”
“How much can this old thing be worth?”
“It should fetch us between ten to fifteen grand.”
“Seriously?” I choke on my swallow, eying the old furniture with new respect. Personally, I don’t see it. All I see are old Englishmen dressed to the hilts smoking their cigars.
“Yeah, that’s why I saved this piece for last. I didn’t want it to get damaged.”
“No pressure or anything.”
