Strangers in Paradise (31 page)

“Let's get this game going, shall we?” Sam asked.

He might deserve to be the topic of uncomfortable conversation. Had been anticipating it. Figured everyone in town was entertaining thoughts that mirrored Zack and Randi's. But he could only handle the encounters in doses. And without Zack peering hatred at him from hooded eyes.

Because the teams were uneven, Carol was the self-appointed scorekeeper, and Sam conjured up next week's comic strip episode as he played out a few hands of canasta across from his father. The queen in Borough Bantam knew far more than she was revealing. She was on to the newcomer; he'd be wise to watch her, find out what she knew.

As he laid down a red canasta of kings, Sam's mind's eye saw the idiot magistrate, worming his way around his contained little circle, predictable as always.
I am. I am. I am.
And Sam was strangely comforted.

* * *

The next day, Sam was in his room working, his pencil flying across the page as the strip he'd envisioned the night before came to life. Mariah was napping on the bed across the room. His parents were in town having lunch with friends.

The bell rang downstairs.

His parents had a housekeeper during the week, but they were on their own on weekends. Which meant that it was up to him to get the door.

The last person he'd expected to see was Zack Foster.

“Hello, Zack.” Politeness required that he step back, let the other man inside.

“I offered to stop by as a favor to Cassie,” Zack said. “Your mother called about Muffy's allergies, and Cassie told her she'd bring over some Prednisone. Muffy should have one of these every twelve hours until they run out.” Zack handed Sam a plastic bottle of pills.

“Thanks,” he said. And then, in spite of the fact that he could have cut his tongue out for asking, he said, “Cassie was too busy to come herself?”

“No.”

With no one else present, Zack didn't even pretend to like Sam.

“She just didn't want to see me,” Sam said, sparing himself nothing.

“Right.”

Sam stared at Zack. Cassie's partner was easily a couple of inches taller than Sam. His large athletic frame and blond, blue-eyed good looks would be a definite plus where women were concerned.

Sam had to wonder if Zack and Cassie had been lovers.

Did Zack know about the patch of freckles sprinkled across Cassie's lower back? Did he know that she squirmed and begged when she was kissed there?

“Have you known Cassie long?”

“Ten years.”

That long.

Much longer than Zack had known his own wife. They'd mentioned the night before that they'd just met this year.

“Do you know why she's never married?” Sam asked. He'd been so certain that Cassie would be happily ensconced in a huge family by the time he came home.

He'd been prepared to deal with the pain of seeing her living with another man. Loving another man.

He was totally unprepared for the sick feeling of regret he felt for her aloneness. If he really
was
in any way responsible...

“I know why,” Zack said, his voice grim.

“But you aren't going to tell me,” Sam guessed.

“I don't see that it's any business of yours.”

No one in this town thought Cassie was any of his business. This was Shelter Valley, and they took care of their own. He'd deserted; he no longer qualified. Cassie had spent more time here than he had. They'd protect her—even against him. Especially against him. He'd been in town almost two weeks and knew absolutely nothing about Cassie's private life. Not even his own parents were talking.

He clenched his jaw in an effort to keep his mouth shut. Because Zack was right. Cassie's life, her decisions, were
not
his business.

He just couldn't find a way to convince his heart of that.

“Thanks for bringing the pills,” Sam said.

Zack nodded, turned to go, then turned back. “I was actually hoping for this chance to get you alone,” he told Sam. His belligerence was gone, but in its place was something that bothered Sam even more.

Sincerity.

“Cassie would kill me if she knew I was doing this, but I'm asking you, one man to another, to stay away from her.”

A dozen smart-aleck responses sprang to Sam's lips. He uttered none of them.

“This is a small town,” he said instead. “We're bound to run into each other. It might make things easier if we could be friends.”

“You and Cassie will never be friends,” Zack said with certainty. “If she'd been some other girl, from some other place, raised in some other way, she might have been able to get past your screwing around on her, but she isn't and she wasn't. What you did to her cut Cassie to her very core. You don't get second chances when you hurt someone that way.”

“So, if she can't possibly forgive me, if she's always going to hate me, why are you so afraid for me to be around her?” Sam asked. “Surely she's immune.”

“You remind her of things she's worked long and hard to forget,” Zack said, then strode out the door and shut it quietly behind him.

With the truth of Zack's words heavy on his heart, Sam walked slowly back up the stairs. Every time Cassie saw him, she remembered the bad times. The pain he'd caused her.

It was a pain so deep, so cruel, it wasn't ever going to go away.

He and Mariah had another meeting with Sammie that afternoon. He'd have to wake her up soon.

In the meantime, he had a script to write. A fictional town to save.

And he had to figure out how to live in a real town with his ex-wife. A woman who didn't want to see him. A woman he'd never stopped loving...

Chapter 7

“D
o you mind if I join you, sweetie?” Cassie asked the little girl standing stiffly under the palo verde tree in Shelter Valley Park. “I'm your dad's friend, Cassie. You met me at my work, remember?”

The child didn't even blink as Cassie sat down on the ground next to Sammie. Mariah's hand rested lightly on the dog's head, but she wasn't petting the animal or in any way acknowledging that she wasn't alone.

But they were making progress. Cassie had watched Mariah place her hand on Sammie's head almost the second Sam had left.

“If I'm bothering you or you don't want me here, just let me know,” she continued. Sam had been gone for almost ten minutes, and the child's neck had to be getting sore from holding herself so stiffly, watching the exact spot where Sam had disappeared, waiting intently for his return.

Cassie wore denim shorts, a T-shirt with a roadrunner on it, and tennis shoes with no socks. An outfit far more casual than she was used to, but perhaps one that would make the little girl more comfortable.

“I love your outfit,” she said, her stomach knotting as she studied the child. She had an hour today. Longer than before. Long enough to force Mariah to focus on something aside from her missing father? Long enough, maybe, to force her to need someone else. “Those shorts are my favorite shade of green, and I really like how the shirt and socks match. You must have bought them all at the same time.”

Keeping her head beneath the child's hand, as though understanding the significance of Mariah's gesture, Sammie looked over at Cassie. Cassie could swear Zack's dog was smiling at her. She'd long been impressed by Sammie's sensitivity to emotional undercurrents. Was certain that the sheltie understood much of what was going on around her.

“I think Sammie likes your outfit, too,” Cassie confided. “She's listening to us.”

Was that a little twitch of her fingers? Was Mariah responding to the conversation? It was impossible to tell if Mariah even listened when people spoke to her. Physically, she could hear just fine; medical tests had determined that. But no one knew for certain how complete her emotional death had been. How shut away she really was. Her catatonic state was most likely a case of the mind protecting itself from an intolerable reality. But how deep did that go? Would she ever be able to release herself from that protection, that silence?

Cassie, pulling her knees up to her chest, continued to chat softly with the child. Telling her about the park she had yet to look at, the children playing around her. Describing her surroundings for her, since she seemed unable, or unwilling, to look at them herself.

Five minutes later, with still no sign of Sam, Mariah's fingers began, almost indiscernibly, to move across Sammie's head. Cassie's stomach fluttered. Those tiny hands seemed so fragile. So helpless and vulnerable. Mariah was too young to have to deal with what life had already heaped on her. She'd seen things no one, let alone a child, should see.

Cassie desperately wanted more for her. Better. Wanted something to take away the anguish.

“I knew your dad back when I was your age,” Cassie said suddenly. She shouldn't do this, shouldn't talk about Sam, shouldn't dredge up the memories. It was too risky.

But the words came, anyway.

“I had really long hair then, just like you do—though, of course, mine is red.”

Mariah's fingers continued to move slowly across Sammie's head, stroking from ear to ear. Otherwise, there was no response from the girl.

The dog had been sitting still for more than fifteen minutes and would stay in that position until Cassie gave the command to move—even if it was two hours later.

“The boys at school used to tease me about my hair because no one else in our school had hair as bright as mine. And one day, a couple of them came up and pulled the ribbon off the end of my braid and wouldn't give it back to me.”

Funny how clearly Cassie could remember that day. How angry and hurt she'd felt by their merciless teasing. And how helpless. They were boys. They were bigger, and there were more of them. There wasn't a damn thing she could do.

She hated that feeling.

“Sam came up behind them and told them that if they didn't give it back to me and leave me alone from then on, he'd make sure they never got served at the ice cream parlor again.”

Wrapping her arms around her knees, Cassie smiled. “Of course, he couldn't possibly prevent them from having ice cream, but he believed he could. And because
he
did, so did they. Sam already knew, even that young, the role his family played in this town. He knew he had influence and how to use it...”

She broke off, thinking. Dwelling on a memory she hadn't visited in years.

“You know what was best about him?” she asked, willing the child to look at her. “Back then, he had an unshakable conviction that he could use his influence to the benefit of others.” She realized she might be talking over the child's head, but she needed to think this through.

He'd really believed, she mused. So when had he stopped believing? It wasn't as though he hadn't accomplished good things after he'd left, but...

Mariah continued to stare off into the distance, where Sam had disappeared. “Anyway,” Cassie said, shaking her head, “the boys never teased me again, and I thought your dad was the most wonderful boy I'd ever met.”

It had taken almost fourteen years for her to find out differently.

Oh, Sam, why? Where did it all fall apart? And why didn't I know?

The fact that he'd never even given her a chance to make it right before he'd destroyed their whole marriage was something Cassie still struggled with. How could she trust her damaged heart to any other relationship, when she knew going in that it could all fall apart without any warning?

Cassie fell silent, watching the child, remembering. Remembering things she'd promised herself never to think about again. She'd lost so much. And what she'd lost could never be replaced.

So had this little girl, standing courageously in front of her.

“Mariah?” Cassie asked softly. “We don't know each other very well yet, but I just want you to know I loved your dad, Sam, very very much. For a long time. And when he went away from me, I felt just like I imagine you do now. Like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't imagine living without him....”

Maybe this was too complex for the child. Too disturbing. Maybe Mariah wasn't listening. But maybe she was. And maybe she needed to hear more than the simple assurances she'd been given to this point. Sam had told her that Mariah had been a precocious child. Maybe she could understand what Cassie was saying.

“But I did manage, honey. And life went on, and eventually I got happy again. And you know what else?”

The child continued to stare off in the distance, blinking only when absolutely necessary.

“Sam came back after all this time,” Cassie said. There was no relief for her in that truth. And yet...there was. It meant no more waiting, no more wondering if she'd ever see him again.

Because now she had. It was done.

“So you see, sometimes people have to leave forever—not because they want to, but because it's their turn to go to God. That's what happened with your parents. And Mariah, they loved you
so much.
They still do. It's why they asked Sam to be your dad.” Cassie had to stop for a moment as tears threatened. “Honey,” she finally whispered. “Sam
will
come back. I promise.”

She was watching the little girl, ready to be patient for a year if that was what it took to help her. Mariah was a real beauty. Her features were fine, her skin dusky, her eyebrows black above electric-blue eyes—that were looking straight at her!

Only for a second. A very brief second. But she had looked. For one heartbeat, the little girl had torn her eyes away from that spot in the distance where Sam would reappear and had looked at Cassie.

Yes!

She'd heard what Cassie had said. And she'd reacted!

Jumping up, Cassie had to wrap her arms around herself to keep from throwing them around Mariah. She couldn't wait to tell Sam. And Zack and Randi. And Phyllis, too. Mariah had
looked
at her. Cassie felt good all the way down to her toes.

Sammie was giving the lost, lonely child at least a small measure of security. Without releasing Sammie from duty, Cassie praised the dog, silently promising her a game of Frisbee later.

Then, somehow, she found the means to sit calmly down again and resume her chatter, keeping up a steady stream of banter until she saw Sam heading toward them.

Mariah's hand stayed on the dog's head until Sam was standing right beside her. Her neck craned upward as her eyes followed him. And her hand stole into his.

His eyes met Cassie's and she couldn't help the great big grin she shared with him as she nodded
yes,
to his unspoken question. She'd have to wait until he called her later to tell him what had happened. But for now, at least he knew it had been something good.

Sam and Mariah waited with her while Sammie, off duty, took a turn around the park, squatting a time or two, barking at a bird, running circles around some kids over by the swings.

As she finally parted from them at the edge of the park, telling Mariah that they'd visit again soon, Cassie was still wearing the glow the afternoon had brought her.

For a moment, it had almost been as though Mariah were
their
child and they her loving parents, sharing the unending worry as well as the brief, transcendent joy.

Almost.

But almost didn't count.

And that was where she pulled herself up short. She could care about Mariah. She could help the child. But that was all. This was a job.

Nothing more.

* * *

She'd known Sam would call. Had been waiting for the phone to ring most of the evening and was prepared with a ready speech when he did. She was even braced for the warmth of his tone, the gratitude and relief he expressed when she told him what had happened. What she'd been saying when Mariah had responded to her.

What she hadn't been prepared for was his “wait a minute” when she said goodbye.

“What?” she asked, leery now.

“I think we should talk.”

“We just did.”

“I mean about us, Cass.”

Standing there in her soft cotton pajamas, the television droning familiarly in the corner, Cassie curled her toes into the carpet. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“We have plenty to talk about,” he said firmly.

He'd obviously thought about this a lot. And wasn't going to give up easily. Even after all this time, she recognized the determination in his voice.

“I'm not asking for anything from you, Cassie,” he went on. “I understand and respect the fact that you want nothing to do with me. But I still think it would be best for both of us if we could just...clear the air.”

“I don't think so.”

“How can either of us go on until we do?”

She sank down on the edge of the sofa. “I've been going on for ten years, Sam. You get used to it after a while.”

“And you can honestly tell me that seeing each other again hasn't changed that?”

Of course it had. How could it not? She didn't answer him.

“I owe you some explanations, at least,” he told her.

She heard the guilt in his voice. “You owe me nothing.”

“Can you honestly tell me there aren't some questions you'd like answers to?”

Again, she didn't answer him.

“There are things I need to know, Cassie.”

“You don't deserve anything from me.”

“I know that, but Shelter Valley's a small place. We're going to run into each other from time to time. And we're going to hear about each other....”

He was giving her a chance to tell him what he was eventually going to learn from other people. He wanted to hear about the past ten years of her life from
her.
But there were some things she just wasn't ready to tell him. Things that—at the rate she was going—she might never be ready to tell him. Things he wouldn't hear from anyone else in Shelter Valley. Nobody ever spoke about that tiny grave. Or the tragedy that nearly took her life.

But there
were
things she could say to him. And he was right; there were things she wanted to know. Like, why he'd blown their lives all to hell without even telling her he was unhappy. Without giving her a chance to help, to fix whatever was wrong. Why he'd left town without a word of explanation.

If she had some answers, could she finally put the past to rest?

“When?” she asked him.

“Mariah's asleep. I can come now.”

“No.”

It was late. She wasn't dressed. She couldn't have him in her house.

“You name the time and place.”

He was going to let her do this her way. Which made Cassie feel a little more in control. And able to acknowledge that she didn't want this hanging over her head for the rest of her life. Able to admit she wouldn't be getting any sleep that night, wondering what he had to tell her. Imagining his answers to questions she'd been asking for so many years.

There were very few occasions when he felt comfortable leaving Mariah. And if they did this at night, there'd be much less chance of anyone in town finding out about it—and making more of it than was warranted.

“Okay, now, but not here,” she said. “I'll meet you at the park.”

“I don't like the idea of you going down there by yourself so late at night.”

“This is Shelter Valley, Sam,” she reminded him. “And it's only ten o'clock.”

“Will you at least promise you'll stay locked in your car until I get there?”

If it would get him off the phone and on his way to get this over and done with... “Yes.”