Small-Town Dreams (8 page)

Earl poked him. “Boy, are you blind? Stupid? Or just plain off your rocker? You don’t act rude to a sweet girl like that when you live in a town without one single female over twenty or under fifty. Irma and Henry waited fifty years for the Lord to send them a son. And He sent you. Now how are you going to give them any grandchildren to bounce on their old knees if you chase away a find like Cassidy Jamison? You take old Earl’s advice, boy, you stop at The Trading Post and see if Pearl don’t have some flowers or some trinket for you to take to that sweet child as a peace offering.”

“Sweet child? She nearly took my head off.”

“Served you right from what I could see. Rude, huh?” Earl turned away and ambled to the phone on the wall. He looked back after lifting the receiver. “Go on!” he ordered, and pointed toward the door.

Josh went. But he wasn’t buying any peace offering!

Josh clutched at the cedar box he’d found himself buying at The Trading Post an hour earlier. He’d fought the urge to give in to Earl’s suggestion—he liked to think of it as a suggestion rather than an order—but he’d realized that when somebody was right they were right. He
had
been incredibly rude last night. Especially considering that Cassidy had been seeking knowledge about the God he served—or was supposed to serve.

As he entered the parlor, Josh saw Cassidy sitting in the window seat looking out over the meadow that lay between the parsonage and the wide stream that formed the western border of the town. She seemed to be trying to memorize every rut and sleeping twig.

“That’s quite a scene,” he said after clearing his throat. It wasn’t a comment on the landscape beyond the window. He longed to tell her so, but knew he had to keep his feelings to himself.

“It must be beautiful in spring.” Cassie turned her head and looked up at him. “Josh, I’m sorry I shouted at you and that I embarrassed you in front of Earl.”

“It was no less than I deserved. I should be apologizing to you. Last night I was tired and cranky, but that’s no excuse.” Again he found himself shoving an offering into her hands. “I got you something. It’s sort of a souvenir.” There was confusion in her eyes again this time, too, but no hurt at least. Instead she smiled, and he tried to ignore the kick his heart gave in answer.

“It’s lovely.”

He grinned. “No, it isn’t. It’s tourist junk. But apology gifts are few and far between in the winter around here. If I’d waited till spring or summer to be rude, you could have had wildflowers. Instead you get a cedar box with a tacky pair of earrings inside.” He didn’t mention that he wished with everything in him that she’d be around come spring. But praying for such a thing went against what he believed.

She opened the box and sniffed the cedar—just like a tourist. Then she laughed at the earrings. It wasn’t a mocking laugh but one of delight. “Oh, they’re adorable,” she said, and held up a gold and rose-pink, minnow-shaped fishing lure that hung by its tail from what looked like a modified fishhook.

“Pearl’s son Jamie turns lures into earnings, then she sells them for him,” he told her.

“Thank you. I love them.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

Her eyes narrowed a bit as she considered him for a long moment. “Are you apologizing because Irma told you to?”

He shook his head. “I’m apologizing because I was a clod.”

She grinned. “In that case, you’re forgiven for being a clod.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“You’re welcome, I’m sure.”

“Josh, are you taking that parcel up to Stephanie Tully?” Irma asked as she came into the room. “I think it might be for her birthday from her aunt in Wilkes-Barre. It would be so nice if she got it today.”

Irma spied the box and earrings a split second later. Josh didn’t like her smile one bit.

“Oh, you bought yourself a pair of those clever earrings Jamie makes.”

Josh waited for the inevitable.

“Josh gave them to me as an apology for our misunderstanding,” explained Cassidy.

That
I see
eyebrow of Irma’s arched over one of her suddenly sparkling eyes. “Well, isn’t that interesting. You know, you should take Cassidy along today. Stephanie mentioned that she wanted her and Larry to have a long talk with you soon—when I saw her after last Sunday’s service. Cassidy could keep Krystal busy, while you work with her parents.”

“I don’t know anything about children,” Cassidy protested. “I don’t think I’ve been around a child since I was one myself.”

“Don’t be silly. Children are just little people with simple interests. You’d be fine,” Irma said.

“It would be a big help,” Josh admitted, however reluctantly. “I have a feeling that they really needed to talk out a problem.” He held his breath, unwilling to hope for her answer.

“If you really think I could be of some help, then sure. I’ll tag along.”

“Thanks,” he said, not sure he meant it. This meant hours with her. How much temptation could one man stand?

“Don’t thank me till the kid lives through the experience. I’ll just go get my jacket,” she said, her tone a forced brand of optimism that made him feel small and petty.

It wasn’t her fault he wanted things he couldn’t have, he chastised himself. How had he come to feel this much so quickly?

Josh shot Irma a disgruntled look. “Ma, please stop pushing us together. It’s crazy, and someone’s going to get hurt. I don’t want it to be Cassie.” He didn’t wait for a reply but stalked from the room in search of his own jacket and the package he had to deliver to Stephanie.

Josh already knew riding in the truck together would generate an intimacy he dreaded but also looked forward to. He couldn’t ignore the irony of his situation. He might be uncomfortable when he was with Cassie, but he’d utterly panicked when he’d thought she was about to leave town. There seemed to be no easy solution—no solution at all from where he stood. An heiress didn’t belong in Mountain View, and he was only marginally free to pursue a relationship, anyway.

Several hours later, Josh and Larry Tully walked across the fields toward Larry’s small house. It had been a productive afternoon. Josh now had a carpentry project lined up for next spring and summer. It would help boost the church’s dwindling treasury and would help solve the problem between Stephanie and Larry.

He’d gotten to the bottom of the issue between the couple quickly and had helped them see that it wasn’t as huge a gulf as they’d thought. Stephanie’s widowed mother was terribly lonely and afraid living several counties away, and had asked to move in with them. Though they wanted to help, neither really wanted to try fitting another adult into their little two-bedroom home. Unfortunately, Larry had put his foot down, and said no without asking his wife’s opinion first. Stephanie had taken the opposite stand even though she wasn’t exactly crazy about the idea herself.

Josh had gotten Larry to admit that he really liked his mother-in-law and wanted to help but that he felt the crowded conditions would be too much of a strain on their marriage. Stephanie had admitted that while she loved her mother dearly, she did not relish being the “daughter” in her own kitchen.

Josh had suggested that an addition to the house specifically designed as a mother-in-law apartment might be the best solution. It could have a small sitting room for television viewing or reading, a kitchenette so she could fix herself some of her own meals, and a small bedroom. He’d pointed out that it was their duty to see to their parent’s needs and that having Stephanie’s mother there could be beneficial. Stephanie’s mother was in good health and still able to baby-sit Krystal. Stephanie had been wanting to take a part-time job at one of the nearby resorts to boost the family income, and now she’d be able to do so without paying a sitter.

Krystal shouted as she ran out the back door. Josh prepared for an armful of five-year-old as she launched herself off the top porch step. As he hugged the little girl and spun her around, he thought about Earl’s comment about children. Earl couldn’t know how much Josh wanted children of his own, but Josh knew it was not going to happen unless he could unlock the mystery of his past. How could he consider having children when for all he knew he already had some with the woman in the picture?

“Would you and Cassidy like to stay for cake and ice cream?” Stephanie asked as he carried Krystal into the kitchen.

Josh looked across the room to where Cassidy sat with Stephanie drinking tea. She was smiling as if she’d been having a nice time. “What did Cassidy say?”

“She says it’s up to you. Daddy always says that. I think it’s what married people have to say. Are you guys getting married, too?” Krystal asked.

Cassidy choked on her tea, and he almost dropped the curious child.

Larry, God bless him, came to the rescue.

He took Krystal from Josh. “Cassidy is only visiting for a few days from Philadelphia, imp. Pastor Joshua was only being polite to his parents’ guest.” Larry put his daughter down and turned back to Josh. “So, you aren’t going to turn down a piece of Steph’s birthday cake, are you?”

Josh shrugged, trying for nonchalance when he’d have walked across hot coals to avoid being alone with Cassidy right then. “I never turn down a piece of Stephanie’s cake.”

“Let’s open the presents first,” Krystal demanded, and danced across the room to her mother with a paper sack that she’d obviously decorated herself. “This is from me. Cassie helped me wrap it. It’s special.”

Stephanie hugged her daughter. Then, careful not to destroy any of the bright artwork on the bag, she peeled back the tape that held the top closed. “Oh! Where on earth did you get something as wonderful as this done?” She pulled an eighteen-by-twenty piece of paper out of the sack. “Oh, Larry, thank you. It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

Larry walked over to stand behind Stephanie. “Honey, I’d love to take credit for that but I never saw it before.”

Krystal laughed and beamed with pride. “Cassie drew it today. She pulled a hunk of wood out of the fireplace, and I gave her some of my drawing paper. It was like magic.”

“Cassie, it’s truly wonderful. I’m going to have it framed. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“She was upset that she didn’t have anything to give you,” Cassidy said. “It’s just a little sketch.”

Now Josh was more than a little curious. He crossed to stand next to Larry and was amazed by the “little sketch” she’d done. Her talent simply leapt from the page. Not only did it look exactly like Krystal, but Cassie had captured the child’s lively character and the intelligent sparkle in her eyes.

“You’re right, Krystal. It is magic,” he agreed.

J
osh took his eyes off the road and quickly glanced to his right. Cassie sat lost in thought on the bench seat beside him. So far neither of them had broken the silence of the ride. But he knew he had to and he didn’t have much more time.

“So, have you ever heard of the expression ‘hiding your light under a bushel’?”

“Yes, why?” Cassidy asked warily.

“I figured you must have, since you do such a bang-up job of it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she answered in that superior tone she’d taken on every time he’d gotten too close to a painful truth. He decided to ignore it.

“Yeah, you do. Just please tell me you head up the art department—or at least advertising.”

She shook her head. “HR and IT.”

He grinned. “Help a country preacher out here. I don’t do initials unless they’re books of the Bible or states of the Union.”

“
IT
is Information Technology, as in computers.
HR
is Human Resources, as in personnel.”

“Computers and problem employees? No wonder you have an ulcer. How can you waste yourself like that?” “I—”

She sighed, and out of the corner of his eye Josh saw her shoulders sag.

“It wasn’t supposed to be so awful. My grandfather said I’d find it rewarding. He said he needed me. That I needed to take my rightful place at his side or I’d regret it for the rest of my life.”

“It was your father’s rightful place if anyone’s, and maybe not even his if the steel business was wrong for him. You have a talent given to you by God that you should use. How much training did your grandfather let you have?”

“Now wait a minute! However autocratic my grandfather is, he loves me. It wasn’t a matter of not being allowed to pursue my art. I had art classes my whole life. I majored in Art in college.”

So for the most part she was doing this to herself. Why? He decided he’d never find out if he didn’t ask. “Then how did you wind up not using it?”

“I wanted to make him proud. The work ethic is very important to Grandfather. So I carried two majors. Art and business. There was little chance that I’d be able to make a living at the art. And I’m good at my job. Any money I’ll inherit will be just that—an inheritance. I live off my salary.”

Josh could believe that. There wasn’t a lazy or spoiled bone in Cassidy Jamison’s body. “That’s very commendable—but you love to draw.”

She dropped her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. “Draw. Paint. I miss the smell of oils. The mess. I even miss looking in the mirror and finding charcoal smeared on my nose. I miss it all. Especially the feeling of creating something from inside myself.”

“You miss it? Don’t tell me you’ve been too busy to even have it as a hobby! No, don’t bother. With your creativity, you paid to have your place decorated. And you’ve lived with it even though you admit to hating the way it turned out. You probably haven’t picked up a brush in months.”

Cassidy decided she had nothing to lose by being totally honest. “Not in years,” she admitted as she sat up and looked around at the unfamiliar scenery. They weren’t returning the way they’d come.

“Years? How many?” he asked, then added, “Just out of curiosity.”

“Until today I hadn’t picked up even a pencil to so much as doodle since I turned in my last projects. Art consumes me, and I couldn’t just do it a little. Not and succeed at Jamison.”

He threw her a disgusted look. “No wonder you have ulcers.”

Cassidy squirmed beneath those occasional piercing glances. “This isn’t the way back to town,” she said, wanting the attention off her. “Are we lost?”

He shook his head. “We need to make a stop. I promised I’d take the sketch you did to Maria so she could frame it.”

“Maria?”

“She’s a transplanted local. Has her own frame shop and a first-class mat cutter.”

“What on earth is a ‘transplanted local’?”

“She went away for years. Then she came back to live in her parents’ home. Thus the ‘transplanted.’” Josh frowned and made a turn onto another even narrower, one-lane road lined by dense growth. A plume of dust rose from the back of the truck as tires rolled across the cracked blue stone of the narrow trail.

Cassidy eyed him. He looked nervous. “Are you sure we aren’t lost?”

“I see my reputation has preceded me. No, we aren’t lost. In fact, we’re here.” He swung the truck to the right, and they suddenly cleared the trees. “And there’s the woman we’re here to see. She just came out of the barn.”

Cassidy didn’t see a shop—frame or otherwise. What she did see was a fashionably shabby farm. In short, an expensive piece of property. And a woman in a loose skirt and a heavy sweater coat, whose short auburn hair burned against the sunset.

“This is kind of far out for a business to do well. Does she do mail order or use the Internet?”

“Mostly shows. I doubt that qualifies as mail order, even though her stuff leaves here by truck.”

“Shows?”

“She’s an artist. Maria Prentice. I’m told she has quite a reputation in the East. Ever hear of her?”

Cassidy gaped at him. “Hear of her? I
studied
her as an up-and-coming regional artist during my first year at the university! She made an incredible splash in Philadelphia and New York while I was in high school. Hers was one of the first art shows I attended.” Alarm flooded her. “You are
not
showing her that drawing. No way.”

“It’s wonderful,” he said as he set the brake and grabbed the paper towel core that he’d tossed on the dash when he’d climbed behind the wheel.

Now she realized that the crude drawing she’d done of Krystal was rolled inside to keep it safe. She didn’t want it kept safe. She wanted to burn it.

“I drew it and I say no!”

“I promised Stephanie I’d drop it off. Maria already said she’d make the frame. Remember that bushel and the light hiding under it,” he quipped, and tapped her on the nose with the cardboard roll. She made a grab for it, but missed by half an inch.

Cassidy latched onto the sleeve of his jacket and made another failed attempt to snatch it, just as he slid out of the truck cab, chuckling, and switched it to his other hand. She let go of his sleeve and dived after him, scrambling across the seat.

“Joshua Daniels, I mean it. Give me that!”

“Nope.” Laughing now, he held it over his head and stepped backward, negating any height advantage she garnered from standing on the running board of the pickup.

“Please,” she wheedled. When he only shook his head and grinned in answer, she squinted against the setting sun and tried to gauge just how high above her head he could hold the tube. He was about four inches taller than she was and his arms were considerably longer, too.

But she was wiry.

Cassidy took off after him and tried a running leap into the air. The drawing was her target. It was there—that cardboard tube hovering only inches from her grasp. Then it was gone and she went sailing past it and him. She staggered to a stop and turned just in time to see Josh finish a smooth one-eighty, laughing like a hyena all the while.

Now she was really mad! Did he think he could use his superior height and agility against her? Make fun of her? Humiliate her by showing her amateur scribbles to her idol with impunity?

No way!

She ran at him again but ducked low at the last second and dived. She took him down into the damp November grass with a perfect flying tackle, bringing him down to her size and then some. They landed with a
thud,
both scrambling for the picture. Cassie rolled to reach it but bumped into Josh, who was crawling toward it on his hands and knees.

Still on her back, she looked up at him. And he looked down at her. Their gazes met. Held. And melded together in a silent, suspended moment bursting with possibilities.

A throat cleared loudly above them, breaking the spell. But Cassidy recovered a split second after Josh. A split second too late, because just as her mind came fully back into focus, he put the tube containing the sketch of Krystal into the hand of the auburn-haired woman with a milk-and-honey complexion that belied her age.

“That’s the drawing Stephanie Tully asked you to frame. She got it for her birthday,” Josh said.

“That’s what she said. She sounded thrilled,” she said distractedly as she pulled the sketch free of the tube. Before unrolling it she looked up. “Now would you like to introduce me to your wrestling partner?” Then she looked down at the drawing, her eyebrows arching over clear topaz eyes. “Or is she to remain as anonymous as our artist.”

Cassidy knew she’d just die if her idol said something kind and patronizing. Cassidy held her breath, hoping Josh wouldn’t betray her.

“Actually she and the artist are one and the same. Cassidy Jamison, Maria Prentice,” Josh said, gesturing to each of them. Then he stood and reached to help her up. Cassidy wanted to ignore his hand, but didn’t want to appear churlish in front of the other woman. So she took his hand and let him pull her up to stand beside him.

“Ms. Prentice.”

“Maria, please. You have quite a gift for portrait. Who have you studied with?”

Cassidy opened her mouth and closed it. Had she heard right? That was the comment of one fellow artist to another—one professional to another. It was nothing to see a four-or five-figure price on a Prentice piece. She was not this woman’s equal. She was not even in the league below Maria Prentice.

“Dr. Mario Dirazio, Eugenia Templeton—and Charles Kent was the last,” she answered.

Maria Prentice peered down at the drawing in the fading light of twilight. “Good. Very good. I see you didn’t let Kent stifle your emotional response to your subjects.”

Cassie felt a moment of supreme vindication. Then her stomach dropped. Was she saying he’d been wrong? “He gave me a
C.
” Her voice sounded as weak as she felt at that moment.

“The man’s a fool. But then, you obviously knew that.”

Cassie didn’t know how to respond. She hadn’t, of course. Kent had ridiculed every assignment. And at the same time, there had been her grandfather telling her that art was fine as a hobby but that she had to earn her way in the world, which she’d never do if
C
was her best.

There was a profound moment as Maria Prentice waited for some kind of confirmation. Cassie stared at the sketch Maria still held.

“That’s the first thing Cassie’s done since she graduated,” Josh said, finally filling the silence.

Maria’s sharp-eyed glance flicked from Cassie to him and back again. “Hmm. You know, I ought to be able to find something for you to wear. Go away, Joshua. I haven’t had a good discussion on artistic technique in a long time. I’ll call Irma when I decide to give Cassidy back. Until then, she’s mine. You, young woman, are due for some time in a studio. Don’t even try to argue.”

Josh thought his hearing was playing tricks on him, until Maria grabbed Cassie by the arm and started pulling her toward the house. “But what about the frame for Stephanie?” he asked, now unsure about this plan of his to divert Cassidy’s attention from her job. He’d never seen Maria act like this.

Maria waved him off, then said over her shoulder, “I’ll drop it over at the Tullys’ when it’s done. Now tell me, Cassidy, how do you earn your living if not with this incredible talent of yours?”

Cassie looked back at him with a bewildered brand of sadness glazing her eyes. She looked like a deer caught in headlights.

She’d probably never forgive him for leaving her to Maria’s mercy, but maybe it was the best thing he could do for her. Something like the “tough love” concept he’d read about. Adding two and two, it wasn’t a huge leap to guess that this Kent guy must have been discouraging Cassie at the same time her grandfather was busy guilting her into joining his company.

As Josh loped back to his truck, he realized there was more than one advantage to Cassie staying at Maria’s for a few days. He’d have some time to deal with that one soul-searing moment when she’d looked up at him. And after he’d dealt with that, he would be able to face having a long talk with Henry about the role Josh should play with Cassidy.

He thought he’d still be able to try helping her with this career problem she faced. A friend would do that. But the more time he spent with her, the more convinced he was that he couldn’t be her spiritual counselor. He was just too tempted to cross that line between friendship and something more. And while that was impossible, he couldn’t deny the feelings that pushed and pulled at him.

Josh walked quietly into the parlor a couple of nights later. He’d put this off as long as he could. Cassidy’s car was still ailing, and he had to drive up to Maria’s to get her the next day. So she’d still be around, tempting him to make a try for a future with her. He needed to take a step back and let Henry fill in the gap.

“Henry, do you have a minute?”

“Of course, son,” Henry said as he put down his magnifying glass and book. “What’s troubling you?”

Josh felt humbled that this good man cared enough to know him so well. “How do you always know when something’s up with me?”