30 

So . . . are you going?” Cassie’s friend, White Deer, seemed to wait with baited breath as she sat on Cassie’s bed, arms circling her knees while bare toes peeked beneath the hem of her buckskin dress. Gus lay beside her curled up in a sleepy ball.

“Of course she’s going,” Morning Dove said in a clipped tone that suggested White Deer had husks between her ears instead of brains from a morning of making cornhusk dolls at the reservation school. She played with the long, wispy curls of a doll she’d made for her sister, pink lips crooked in a dry smile as she sprawled across Cassie’s colorful quilt. “The Bluebonnet Ball is the social event of the season and Cassie needs to show up on the arm of a beau.” Her dark eyes thinned into a gloat. “Because Mark Chancellor needs to feel the pain.”

Pulling a chambray shirt and fresh pair of jeans from her bureau drawer, Cassie smiled over her shoulder, grateful for her two best friends. “Not unless I can wear blue jeans,” she quipped. Clothes bundled in hand, she hurried over to White Deer and turned, desperate to shed the serviceable gray silk dress her mother insisted she wear to the school. “Because heaven knows I’m not putting a corset on for another man for a long time to come. Will you unhook these infernal buttons and please set me free?” She sighed while White Deer went to work. “Although I must admit, I’m sorely tempted just to see the look on Mark’s face now that Father is close to striking oil again.”

“He’s been asking about you all over town, you know,” White Deer said coyly.

“Not to mention he broke it off with snooty Olivia Balzer once he heard you were back.” Morning Dove’s dark brows dipped low in a face of deep bronze. “It’d serve him right to see the likes of Zane Carter fawning over you. Especially since every woman in town seems to be fawning over the eligible engineer who,” she said with a sly wink, “sleeps right down the hall.”

“Stop!” Cassie tugged her dress over her head, cheeks flaming from Morning Dove’s remark. She hurried to hang it and her petticoat up before donning the chambray shirt, quickly buttoning it over her chemise. “Zane Carter is a respectable and honorable man whose keen mind and wealth of drilling knowledge is literally saving my father’s life.”

“And his daughter’s?” White Deer tilted her head, brown eyes sparkling.

“Absolutely not.” Cassie slipped a bare foot into one leg of her boy’s jeans and then the other, making quick work of the button fly as she thought of the man who made it perfectly clear he wanted to know her better. “Look, I already told Mr. Carter, my parents, and now I’m telling both of you—again. I have no desire to tangle with another man anytime soon.” She tucked her shirt in, then wove a leather belt through the loops before plopping on the bed to tug her boots on with a grunt. “When it comes to hunting for romance, I am completely and unequivocally off-season.” She stood up and slapped hands to her hips. “Understood?”

White Deer gently pulled her back to the bed. “You’re not still hurting over that low-down skunk from Frisco, are you, Cass?” she said quietly, kneading Cassie’s arm.

Moisture stung at the mention of the polecat Cassie longed to forget. But two and a half months and a schedule chock-full of teaching, family, and friends hadn’t put a dent in the ache inside whenever she thought of Jamie. Not to mention the longing to see her cousins and aunt and uncle again. Head bowed, she swiped her eyes with the back of her hand, tired of the malaise that always resettled whenever she received a letter from Al. Her cousin generally avoided all reference to Jamie except for mention of his sister’s successful operation several weeks ago, which brought a sad smile to her lips. Although his faith had been tentative during their friendship, they’d prayed many a night for this very outcome, and for that Cassie was grateful. Heaving a sigh, she squeezed White Deer’s hand. “A little bit,” Cassie fibbed, unwilling to burden her friends with the true depth of her sorrow. “But I’ll get over it like I got over Mark.”

“Zane Carter might be the answer, you know.” Morning Dove squatted before Cassie.

Cassie’s smile crooked. “Tried that last time, remember? Didn’t work out so well.”

“But Zane is different, you said so yourself,” White Deer reminded.

A wispy breath drifted from Cassie’s lips. “I know.”

But he’s not Jamie.

White Deer bumped shoulders with Cassie. “So, if I were you, Cassidy McClare, I’d reconsider. If nothing else, for the sheer joy of stomping on Mr. Chancellor’s toes and spitting in his eye.” She leaned forward with a dance of her brows. “Now come on, wouldn’t that be fun?”

Cassie peeked up, a faint semblance of a smile edging her lips. “Maybe,” she said with a teasing pout. “But if I had my druthers, I’d much rather spit in Jamie MacKenna’s eye.”

“Well, look at it this way—you can practice on Mark at the ball so you’ll be ready for Jamie come Christmas, right?” Morning Dove’s grin was wicked.

Christmas. Cassie’s humor faded at the thought. That’s right, they would be in San Francisco for Christmas. With him. Her hands went clammy. Her. Jamie. And another round of heartbreak.

Her lips compressed in a grim smile. Great balls of fire, not if I can help it. She narrowed her eyes. And this time she’d pack the cattle prod just to make sure.

Jamie held his breath while Jess took tentative steps with the crutches, the chew of her lip indicating she was focusing hard. Almost immediately, a grin worked its way across her face, clogging the air in Jamie’s throat. “So, how does it feel?” he asked, voice raspy with hope.

She glanced up with a joyous smile that brought tears to his eyes. “Like I could win a two-mile race against my big brother on the heels of winning at chess.”

His laughter echoed off the walls of the small hospital room as he studied her, hands parked low on his hips. “A wee bit cocky for someone who just spent the last two weeks in bed.”

She wrinkled her nose and hobbled back to sit, plopping down. “Sorry—bad habit I got from my brother.” A noisy sigh parted from her lips as she smiled, her eyes tired but happy. “Are we ready to go? Mom promised warm apple pie as soon as I came home.”

Glancing at his watch, Jamie leaned to give her a peck on the cheek, rubbing her back with the palm of his hand. “Almost, kiddo. I have a few papers to sign, then I’ll be back pronto with a wheelchair and a nurse to give you a proper send-off.” He tugged on a springy black curl before heading for the door. “Don’t move—I don’t want you overdoing it before we go, okay?”

She gave him a firm salute. “Yes, sir, but I hope you won’t be this bossy at home.”

He grinned over his shoulder. “Worse, ’cause you’re gonna have two of us breathing down your neck, make no mistake.” Hands in his pockets, he strolled toward the nurses’ station with a grin on his lips, guilt-free for the first time since Jess had been two. His heart swelled with gratitude. “Thank you, God,” he whispered, “for healing my sister.”

“Ready, Mr. MacKenna?” A pretty brunette flashed a smile that Jamie easily matched.

“You bet, as soon as I sign the release and give my thanks to your boss.” He nodded to an office where several nurses were laughing. “Is Nurse Stadler here?”

“I’m afraid she was called away on an emergency, but she left a release for you to sign and said if you have any questions, to call her personally.” She handed him the papers and pen.

Two orderlies wheeled a gurney followed by a troop of medics and nurses, and Jamie shook his head. “I’ll tell you what, you people run a tight ship here, and I plan to personally commend Nurse Stadler and her staff to the Board of Directors.” He scrawled his name across the bottom of the first sheet, then tackled the others with a broad smile, nodding at several doctors who walked by. “All I have to say is Senator Hamilton must wield a lot of power for a pro bono patient to receive such care and attention and a private room to boot.”

“Pro bono?” A wrinkle pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Jamie glanced up, pen poised mid-scrawl. “You know, the unanimous vote earlier this month on the docket of surgeries Cooper Medical performs at no cost?”

She blinked. “Well, I may be new on the floor, Mr. MacKenna, but I do know your sister wasn’t on the pro bono docket. Goodness, pro bono patients share a ward on the second floor, not a private room and around-the-clock attention on the fourth.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice as if she had a secret to share. “No, siree,” she said with a knowing smile, “I’d say you’re a definite VIP. Now if you’ll just wait right here, I’ll get the care instructions Mrs. Stadler left and call an orderly to transport your sister downstairs.” She turned to go.

“Wait.” Jamie stopped her with a hand to her arm. “Jess’s surgery wasn’t free?”

Color flooded her cheeks. “Of course, but not because it was on the pro bono docket.”

Jamie whistled, shocked over what Patricia and her father had obviously done. He exhaled loudly, shaking his head. “Holy thunder, Senator Hamilton sure carries some weight.”

“Well, I don’t know about Senator Hamilton, but I’d say you definitely do.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t say I told you, but rumor has it you’re responsible for a brand-new wing.”

His heart stalled in his chest. “What? What are you talking about?”

Her eyes sparkled as she nodded. “Yes, sir, the largest donation Cooper Medical and Lane Hospital have ever received.”

The air thickened in his throat, making it hard for him to breathe. “I don’t understand,” he whispered, his words hoarse. “From Senator Hamilton?”

She glanced both ways down the hall before cupping a hand to her mouth. “No, sir, but you didn’t hear it from me.” Leaning close, she gave him a wink. “The name was McClare . . . Logan McClare.”

“May I cut in?”

No! Cassie’s lips clamped down on the word she wanted to spit in Mark Chancellor’s face as he gave a slight bow, nearly a head taller than every other man dancing at the Bluebonnet Ball. He was dressed in a stylish gray sack suit that deepened the blue of his eyes. His gaze flitted from her to her partner. She hadn’t wanted to come to the ball in the first place, but her parents had badgered until she’d accepted Zane’s invitation, not to mention White Deer and Morning Dove insisting she needed to give Mark some of his own. But at this particular moment, she didn’t want to give Mark Chancellor anything except distance. Staring hard at Zane Carter, she forced a tight smile she hoped would convey her thoughts loud and clear. No, no, no!

Zane offered Mark a stiff nod and to Cassie’s horror, turned her over to the man who had ripped her heart out and stomped on it for good measure. The sound of “Ain’t Dat a Shame” drifted through the crowded ballroom of Humble’s most prestigious hotel, and Cassie couldn’t agree more as Mark whirled her away. So much for mind reading . . .

“Tell me, Cass,” Mark whispered, his voice husky as the scent of Bay Rum stirred sour memories. “Were you always this beautiful, or is it just absence making the heart grow fonder?”

Cassie pursed a smile. “Nope, pretty sure you can rule out the absence theory.”

He chuckled, blue eyes sparkling. “Nobody bottom-lines it like Cassidy McClare.” He spun her around, eyes suddenly serious. “I’ve missed you, Cass—I was a fool to let you go.”

Her smile was painfully polite. “Well, at least we agree on something.”

The impossibly blue eyes went into hypnotic mode, a shuttered gaze that had always tumbled her stomach. “Trust me—I won’t make that mistake again.”

Sealing her eyelids, she held her breath and waited for the flutter sensation he always evoked. One second . . . two seconds . . . three seconds . . . nothing! The air whooshed from her lungs in blatant relief. Her lashes flipped up with a patient smile. “I know, and neither will I.”

His smile never faltered as he nodded to an arched opening at the far end of the room that led to a garden she knew all too well. “How ’bout some fresh air? We need to talk—about us.”

She released a weary sigh. “Mark, we have nothing to say to each other, and if memory serves, there is no ‘us.’ Now, if you’ll excuse me—” Turning on her heel, she left him—and his sagging jaw—on the ballroom floor, the feeling of payback surprisingly flat. She threaded her way through the crowd to the ladies’ room, stopping short at the sound of a voice.

“Cassie?”

She turned. Zane ambled forward with a grim smile. “I owe you an apology, it seems. I would have never turned you over to that dandy had I known. Your parents just informed me Mark was the man who broke your heart.” His gaze was gentle. “Will you forgive me?”

She stared, his words suddenly registering. The man who broke my heart. Water welled in her eyes. No, you’re mistaken—he’s still in San Francisco. She gave him a wobbly smile. “Of course I forgive you, Zane, and I was bound to run into him sooner or later, so no apology needed.”

He shifted as if her sudden blur of tears made him uncomfortable. “Cass, if you’d like to go home, I’d be happy to take you.” His tender smile confirmed he’d like nothing more. “If being here gives you bad memories, I say we hightail it to the ranch to make new ones, maybe with a game of pinochle?” His eyes twinkled. “You know, just to see if I can actually win?”

She chuckled, dispelling her melancholy somewhat. “I’d like that, Zane.”

He twined his fingers in hers, and his look didn’t bode well for a woman not high on romance. “I’ll tell your parents we’re leaving, then meet you in the lobby.” He squeezed her hand. “I care for you, Cass, and I’d like to help chase your heartbreak away . . . if you’ll let me.”

If I’d let him. She released a quiet sigh, assessing Zane Carter through wary eyes. He was a good man who was helping her father reclaim his fortune, and she knew her parents liked him. His faith in God was strong, and deep down, she sensed she could trust him. With a smile and a quiet nod, she turned to enter the ladies’ room, thoughts of Christmas foremost on her mind. The question wasn’t trusting Zane Carter to help her get past the heartbreak of Jamie. Her heart fisted. No, the question was—could she trust herself?