CASSIE FINISHED READING the last of the aged letters then folded it back up and put it with the stack lying on her bed. Over twenty, some of them one-page short notes, others longer and more drawn out. Some written after what had apparently been arguments and breakups, others written after time spent together. Letters that always started with “My darling Eugenia” and ended with a heart drawn where a name should have been.
Her mother had been in love with another man.
And that man had been deeply in love with Eugenia.
They never mentioned anyone else, but the letters indicated that Eugenia felt trapped in her marriage. Trapped, lonely, depressed and in a state of utter hopelessness and despair.
She stayed because of her child. The letters mentioned Cassie a lot. How pretty she was, just like her mother. So beautiful. A sweet little girl. Like my own. Just like my own.
Had her mother’s lover considered taking Eugenia and Cassie away? And why did that endearment just like my own seem so familiar to Cassie?
She wasn’t sure how long the affair had been going on since the letters weren’t dated or signed. But she was very sure of one thing—Eugenia had a whole other life that her husband and daughter never knew about. Until that fateful day, at least.
How had her father found out?
Now, at least, Cassie could understand her father’s strange behavior toward her. He’d sent Cassie away because she reminded him of his wife’s betrayal and death—and maybe to protect her from finding out the awful truth about Eugenia. Then he’d suffered in silence for years before dying of a broken heart.
No wonder he couldn’t stand the sight of her.
Cassie felt dizzy with disgust, her heart breaking bit by bit for all that had transpired behind the walls of this beautiful old house. How could she have been so blind?
She thought about the incident in the camp house, accepting that the affair had been going on even then. That was over twenty years ago. Maybe it had started long before that. Somehow, she’d managed to block out the truth of what she’d seen that day when she was too young to understand.
Amazingly, she’d never mentioned it to anyone, either. Not even her mother or father, probably because she didn’t want to get into trouble or get Teresa fired. She was almost thankful she’d put it out of her mind.
Cassie got up to go to the open door out onto the porch, her mind whirling with regret and shame. All these years, she’d considered her mother a perfect example of a Southern lady. She’d learned from that example, built a whole career on the image of her mother, complete with pearls and pumps. And it had all been a lie.
Had Eugenia ever truly loved Marcus Brennan? Or her only child?
Stepping out onto the porch, Cassie pulled her silk robe together and tied it at the waist. The mild summer night brought the sound of cicadas singing and frogs croaking a reply. The intoxicating scents of magnolias and gardenia wafted out and lifted on the warm breeze. Somewhere off in the distance, an owl hooted a sad calling.
She leaned against the railing, the yard below shifting in shadows as the wind moved through the Spanish moss draped against the live oaks. When she heard a cough coming from the other side of the long porch, she turned, instinctively knowing Cal was there waiting for her.
“Hi,” she said, seeing him silhouetted there in the shadows.
“Hi.” He got up and slowly walked toward her, his bare feet hitting the ancient planked floor. He wore sweats and a T-shirt. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“No.” She kept her hands on the banister. “I read the letters.”
“And…?”
Did she sense a hesitation in that one worded question?
“And my mother had an affair that apparently went on for a long time.” Then she turned to stare at him. “I remembered something that I haven’t told you about. I’ve never told anyone about it because I think I somehow blocked it, but I caught them together once down at the camp house. I was eight and I snuck out of the house looking for my mother. I heard them laughing and talking, and I thought it was my parents there together. My mother loved hot tea, so the teakettle was steaming and it was boiling, whistling away. They didn’t even notice. They never knew I was there on the porch. I ran away before I saw the man’s face, but I think I must have guessed it wasn’t my father.”
She turned to stare down at the lighted pool. “It all came back the day of the storm, the day I found that box of letters.”
“Cassie.” He reached for her, tugging her close. “I’m so sorry.”
“You knew, didn’t you? You said you suspected, but you’ve known all along, haven’t you?”
CAL RECKONED HIS TIME was up. He had to tell her everything now, while he had the courage. He’d sat out here, waiting, knowing this had to end, one way or another. Better to hurt her now than later. If she wanted him, if she loved him, she’d forgive him, somehow. If not… He didn’t want to think about that.
“Yes,” he said, a relief in the one word. “I knew that and so much more.”
She went still, as if to allow a kind of numbness to settle over her so the agony wouldn’t hurt so much. Then she tossed her hair and waited. “When did you first find out?”
He took her hands in his. “Almost from the time I was hired. At first, I didn’t know who the man was, just that she would leave the house a lot during the day when Marcus was out working and you were in school. Teresa knew, too, but she never talked about it until I came back. She had to warn me that Marcus would say things that didn’t make any sense.”
Cassie nodded. “I remember you saying he rambled a lot. And what did my father know? What did he say?”
“He let things slip—calling for her, telling her he’d forgive her if she’d just come home.” There was more, but Cal refused to blurt that out to her. Not today, after she’d just buried her father.
Cassie inhaled a sob, Cal’s hands on her anchoring her, holding her. “He never stopped loving her,” she said, the whispered declaration holding an edge of grief and regret.
“No, and he never stopped loving you, either. Sometimes, he’d call out for you the same way.”
“Why did he want us to get married?”
Cal had to tread carefully but he wanted it out, out of his head, out of his dreams, out in the open. “He thought that if you ever found out the truth, you’d be devastated, in the same way he was. He wanted me here to help you through it.”
“Because I’m so very fragile and clueless?”
“No, Cassie, because he loved you. More than you’ll ever know. He and I talked a lot, even though I told you we didn’t, and he always sounded so proud of you. He kept up with you, but he didn’t make a big deal out it. He couldn’t say it, but the man did love you.”
The blank look on her face changed as the numbness wore off and she came out fighting. Tearing away from him, she held up a hand. “No, no more, Cal. I’m beginning to see that neither of them really loved me. They were too caught up in destroying each other. Self-absorbed, selfish, cruel—that’s the parents I really had.”
“No, you’re wrong.” He grabbed her, forcing her to look at him. “You want the truth? I’ll tell you everything. Then you can decide what to do—stay or go or burn the place down. I don’t care about anything but us, Cassie. That’s all I’ve ever cared about.”
Her frown was full of heat. “Really, Cal? You say that when all along you’ve withheld things, covered for my father and basically just felt sorry for poor little Cassie. I wouldn’t be surprised if Marsha was in on the whole thing, too.”
He swallowed, looked away.
“Oh, no.” Cassie turned, holding her arms tightly against her midsection. “Oh, no. Marsha knows? Marsha? But why, how?”
Cal hated this, hated seeing her like this. But he had to tell her now. There was no one else left. He’d held off, hoping her father would confess all, but now it was up to him.
“Marsha’s mother…helped them…meet up. After you left, Marsha and I kept in touch. She told me what little she knew, which wasn’t much. Apparently, she’d heard a lot of rumors hanging out at the Pig and Plow, helping her mom.”
“Oh, that’s rich. That’s amazing. The irony is almost comical.”
He touched a hand to her arm. “Nothing funny about this mess.”
“No, and I’m not laughing.” She whirled back around. “You said, at first you didn’t know who the man was. But you do now, right? So tell me, Cal. Is he still around? Was he at my father’s funeral?”
“He’s dead.”
“Dead? All three of them dead now? But who?” Her hands dropped to her side as realization glistened in her moonlight eyes. “Dead?” She put a hand to her throat. “Dr. Anton? Was it Dr. Anton?”
“Yes.”
She went pale. He could see it there in the glow from the moonlight and the security lights shimmering out in the yard. “Was his death an accident or did my father kill his best friend?”
Cal took her by the arm and pulled her onto a wicker settee. “Are you ready for the whole story now?”
CASSIE BENT OVER, holding herself. Her pulse hit against her temple like a hammer hitting a nail. She felt it ripping into her, tearing into her. Dr. Anton, her father’s best friend, the man who’d taken care of her whole family for as long as she could remember. Could he have been the man she’d glanced in the camp house that day?
“Yes,” she finally said to Cal’s question. “Tell me what you know.”
He didn’t try to hold her or touch her, thankfully.
“The day your mother died, my life changed. One minute I was working here at a job that I loved and I was in love with you. I had all these plans to somehow make you mine, to better myself for you, Cassie. All of those things we’d dreamed about and talked about, that was true. That was real to me.”
Oh, how she wanted to believe him. “What happened?”
He let out a long breath. “From what I managed to get out of Marcus after I came back, he found the letters. Or he found a letter. I don’t know where or how and I don’t think he knew who, but he discovered what was going on and he confronted your mother.” He stopped, took another breath. “I wish I didn’t have to tell you this. But your mother was down at the stables with me that morning. She’d asked me to saddle up Heathcliff so she could go for a ride. She seemed agitated and upset so I did as she asked.”
Cassie looked over at him. “But then my father came down to the stables?”
“Yes. They started arguing, so she told me to hold Heathcliff until she came back.”
Cassie closed her eyes, seeing that whole day in a different way. Seeing it with the truth glaring at her.
“So they returned to the house and had that horrible fight.”
He nodded. “Yes, and then she came back to the stables and you know the rest.”
Cassie knew there had to be more. Much more. “You said you’d tell me everything, Cal.”
“Things went downhill from there. Your mother died, Marcus was angry and devastated and he blamed me, Cassie. He blamed me.”
Cassie’s head came up. “Because you handed her the reins and let her get on that horse?”
“Yes, that and…because your mother told him she was having an affair with me.”
“What?” Cassie shot up to pace the porch. “You can’t be serious? The affair was going on much longer than just that one summer, Cal. I know you didn’t write those letters.” Then she stopped. “But are you trying to tell me that she…that you and my mother—”
He stood and stared at her. “Nothing happened between your mother and me. She was in love with the doctor, only no one knew that back then. And she was desperate to protect him from your father. But me, I was expendable.”
Cassie thought she’d heard everything, but she realized this was just the tip of the iceberg. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to hurt you. I knew it wasn’t true, but I was afraid you’d believe it anyway. And then after she died, it just didn’t seem to matter. I told you, I only wanted to be with you.”
She went back over everything in her mind. “But I thought he fired you because of us.”
“He did.”
“So he was already angry at you, and then when he found us together, that was it. That just made it worse.”
Cal tented his hands in his lap. “I don’t think he believed her—about it being me. He didn’t confront me that day because he was so devastated about her death and the whole affair thing. But after the funeral, when he found us together, that’s when he let me have it.”
Cassie leaned back in her chair. “I remember how he shouted at you and cursed both of us. He never once accused you.”
“No, not in front of you. That came later.”
“What do you mean, later. You left but you came back to see me that one last time and then…”
“And then, you caught me with Marsha.”
Cassie took a shiver of a breath. “Is there more to that story, too?”
CAL MADE A SNAP DECISION after that question. He’d tell her all of it, all the ugly details, but he wouldn’t be the one to finish the job. He’d never tell her the one thing that would destroy her and pull them apart. He couldn’t do it, no matter how hard it would be to keep one last secret.
Telling himself it didn’t matter now that Marcus was dead—now that Eugenia and her lover were both dead—he swallowed and hoped she’d forgive him for his part in this whole sordid mess.
“Cal?”
Keeping her hand tightly in his, he inhaled deeply then let out a breath. “Wow, I didn’t realize how hard this would be.”
Pulling her hand away, she said, “Don’t stop now. Might as well spill the rest of it.”
He held on to the chair arms, his fingers using the sturdy wicker for strength. “What you saw between Marsha and me—that was a setup, Cassie. Marsha flirted with me and made it pretty clear that she was interested, no doubt there, but I only wanted you. Always you.”
She held up a hand. “You did what you thought you had to do, so I’d break up with you and leave. That part worked at least.”
“Yeah, worked too well. I didn’t want to do that to you, but your old man gave me an ultimatum. He said I needed to go, get out of town, or he’d tell you what Eugenia had told him. That it was me she’d been with.”
“That’s crazy. You said he found a letter. Couldn’t he tell it wasn’t from you?”
“The letter wasn’t signed or dated. Apparently, your mother and her friend were very careful with their letters—no names, no mention of anyone or anything except how they felt for each other. He had no way of knowing anything else.” Cal let go of the chair and stood. He went to the porch rail then turned to face her. “I’m pretty sure he’d figured it all out by then, but he had to blame somebody so he picked me. I was just as expendable to him as I was to your mother. And he wanted you to hurt the way he was hurting, I believe.”
“Why? How could a father do that to a child?”
Cal turned to grip the porch railing, willing himself to stays silent on that account. “He wasn’t himself. He’d just found out the worst a man can hear and then, he’d lost his wife, too, and found his daughter with a glorified stable boy. It was pretty bad all the way around.”
She got up to come and stand beside him. “So you took the ultimatum seriously, and you staged this get-together with Marsha, making sure I’d see you two together.”
He angled around to look at Cassie. “Yes, after he gave me a big fat check to get out of town. More than just my regular salary. It was a lot of money, Cassie.”
She gasped. “Marsha said he paid you off, but I didn’t believe her.”
“She was right except I never took the money. I gave it to her to keep quiet and to help her with some of her mother’s bills. She used it to pay off the mortgage on the Pig and Plow. And she never looked back.” He shrugged. “None of us did. I left. You left. Marcus went into his downward spiral. It was over.”
“Over?” Her question lifted in the air. “Over? For all of you maybe. But not for me, Cal. I can’t tell you how many nights I lay awake, wondering what had happened to make my father hate me so much, what had happened to make you walk away without a fight. I compared myself to Marsha over and over, and I always came up short. And I believed you two were together, with a child at first. Even after I found out that wasn’t true, you never came for me. How could anyone be so cruel?”
He reached for her, took her into his arms. “I’m here now. Cassie, I’m here now.” He kissed her, tugging her close, holding her until she fell against him and kissed him back. Just for a moment, the world receded and they were back there, young and in love and yearning to be together always.
But the truth tugged her out of his arms. “No. No. We’re not doing this now. Since I’ve come home, it’s been one lie on top of another, until I honestly don’t know what to believe.” She stared at him, willing him to be honest. “Did my father kill Dr. Anton?”
CAL NODDED AND TRIED to catch his breath. “I think so. I don’t have proof but he said so many things in his ramblings.”
“Such as?”
“That he’d waited a long time, waited for the right moment, to get even.” Cal closed his eyes, the shock of that deathbed confession still ringing in his ears. “Something about an argument. I think he wanted to get even but then, when the time came it turned into an accident. The doctor fell overboard and hit his head.”
“Stop. Stop.” She put a hand to her mouth.
He reached for her again. “It’s over now, Cassie. We can start fresh.”
She stepped away. “It will never be over. This cover-up…this horrible secret…ruined my life.”
“No, it didn’t,” he said, hoping to show her that she’d been the one who made it through. “You got out, Cassie. You got away from this place. You survived and you made it out there on your own. You have to see what an accomplishment that is.”
“Oh, I see, all right. I see that the man I loved didn’t tell me the truth.”
“I wasn’t a man then,” he said, using his only defense. “I was young and stupid and scared—not of your father, but that I’d lose you anyway. You were like this princess, standing here on this porch. I had nothing to offer you. Nothing. And your daddy made sure I realized that.”
“Why didn’t you take his money, Cal?”
“You think he could just buy me off? No. I let him think that, but I knew the difference. I knew the truth. No one had to buy me off. I walked away, for your sake.”
She tried to turn away but he grabbed her hand and held it in the air, a hot wind whipping around them as they faced each other. Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, over and over, his touch pleading with her to give him another chance.
Cassie gave into the kiss and returned it, her soft moan showing Cal what words couldn’t say. She still loved him.
“Cassie,” he whispered against her lips. “Cassie, it’s over now. We can make this work. I love you. I love you. I’m sorry.”
She stilled against him. “I love you, too, Cal. But I don’t think I can marry you, not after all of this. Not after all the lies.” Pulling out of his embrace, she looked down. “I feel like a fool, an idiot, for not seeing any of this.”
“We hid it from you,” he said, trying to make her see.
“Yes, you did. And it worked. Or maybe I did see and I just buried it along with all my other memories.”
“You stayed away. That was the best thing for you.”
“No.” She started backing up, a hand touching his face. “That was the best thing for everyone else. You said you were trying to protect me. I think you were trying to protect yourself and my father. And my mother, too, for that matter. The best thing for me would have been you, coming to me and telling me, being honest with me, all those years ago. But you didn’t. You let me believe—”
“I let you believe that your mother was the wonderful woman everyone thought she was.”
She bobbed her head. “Yes, and that did keep me sane. My father might have hated me, but my mother, she loved me. She was my rock.”
“Exactly. You would have hated me even more if I’d told you what had happened. Think about it, Cassie.”
She remained still, her eyes closed. “I just wish you hadn’t felt such a need to protect me. We could have talked, worked through this.”
“I didn’t think so,” he admitted. “I had to let you go. It was for the best.”
“But you came back to set things right. That’s why you kept saying you came back for me?”
Cal felt relief washing through him. “Yes. When Marcus asked me to come back here, he told me he’d known all along I’d never been with your mother, said he had proof then and even more now. And he begged me to never tell you the truth. He was ashamed of breaking us apart, of offering me a bribe. So I kept his secrets intact, to save you even more pain. To save you from this. Is that so wrong, what I did?”
“What you did? It’s what you didn’t do that’s killing me now. You couldn’t trust me enough to let me decide, to let me handle this. We could have been together, Cal. But you decided to end things instead, never once trying to find me to set things straight. And for that, I can’t forgive and forget. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”
Then she turned and hurried back to her own room, effectively slamming the door behind her.