A Southern Reunion

Cassie closed her eyes now, swallowing back the sweet desire she remembered from that day. It wasn’t so much a physical desire, even though Cal certainly won out over all of the bad-boy rock stars she had plastered on the wall. It was more of a desire to find out who this man was, to ask him how he’d found his way to Camellia Plantation. Sheltered and pampered, she longed to get to know the mysterious older boy who had not come from any of the neighboring plantations and farms, a boy who hadn’t gone to prep school with her or driven some fancy sports car bought with his daddy’s old money. She wouldn’t find Cal Collins at the cotillion or any of the debutante balls.

In other words, Cal represented everything she’d been sheltered from and protected from—the real world.

And Cassie so wanted to break away and find that real world. But reality wasn’t so exciting after the way their summer had ended.

And now, her reality was centered on watching her estranged father die and finding out why Cal was really back here. She wasn’t buying that he’d returned for her sake. They’d both moved on with their lives after that long-ago summer. And there was no going back. Ever.

Her cell phone rang, causing her to whirl and patter over to the rolltop desk on the far wall, where she’d left her big leather tote bag and her sketch pads.

Looking down at the number on the phone, Cassie grimaced. Ned Patterson. When would her ex figure out that they were finished? Why couldn’t she love him the way he deserved to be loved? Pushing thoughts of Cal away, she ignored the incoming call. Ned was dreamy and debonair, everything a woman could ask for. But theirs had been a chaotic kind of relationship. Cassie had finally ended things, which she’d needed to do a long time ago. Because she didn’t want to marry Ned.

Was her love life destined for self-destruction with every man she met?

Cassie threw down the phone, determined to put Ned—and Cal…for now—out of her mind. She hurried back into the big bathroom with the claw-foot tub and the old marble vanity, combed out her hair and threw on the barest of makeup. After drying her hair, she put on a white button-up shirt and skinny jeans with a pair of black flats then gathered her courage to return downstairs.

But what would she do while here? She stopped to stare down at her phone, thinking it looked out of place on the century-old desk. Did she dare sit with her father and try to talk to him? She had plenty of work to keep her busy and a whole slew of phone messages to wade through, some regarding business, some from concerned friends and…that one from Ned.

She deleted Ned’s message right away. She didn’t need to listen to his pleas or his promises anymore. Next, she called her assistant, Rae.

“Cassie, how are you?”

Rae’s deep rich voice always soothed Cassie. They’d met in college at the University of Georgia in their freshmen year. Rae, a soulful expression on her cocoa-colored face, had taken one look at Cassie and become her mentor and soul mate.

“Girl, you look like you are as lost as a little kitty cat,” Rae had said at the time.

“I am,” Cassie had responded. Then she’d burst into tears.

Over coffee in a nearby coffeehouse, she’d blurted out all of her woes, including her mother’s horrid death and her father’s silent treatment and finding the man she loved in the arms of another woman. And Rae Randolph had listened and advised and suggested and…become a fast friend. On those days when Cassie wanted to give up, especially the holidays, Rae had been her rock. Following those awkward attempts to go home during her freshman year, she’d spent most of her holidays and summers with Rae’s family in Atlanta.

Rae’s mother, Louise, had helped Cassie get a summer job in a fashionable Buckhead department store. And since Rae’s mother sewed most of their clothes, Cassie was allowed to use them for models for her own designs. She learned how to be an expert seamstress under Louise Randolph’s keen eye. That experience had helped her become a better designer.

After college, they remained friends, both seeking work within the fashion industry. Rae had been there when Cassie sold her first designs in trade shows and obscure boutiques. So it was only natural that Rae would become her head assistant and confidante and advisor when Cassie finally branched out on her own three years ago with Cassie’s Closet.

“I’m okay, Rae Rae,” Cassie said now, wishing she could have brought Rae with her. “It’s been so hard, coming back, facing my father. He’s sick—much worse than I realized.”

“I think you’re in the right place,” Rae responded, her signature hoop earrings jingling through the airwaves. “You can’t let him pass on without making amends and forgiving, girl.”

Rae had a way of stating the truth in soft, flowing euphemisms. She’d never tell Cassie her father was dying. No, he was just passing on. Passing on to somewhere with no pain and no regrets, according to Rae’s reassuring words when Cassie had first received the call regarding his illness.

“Rae, Cal is here, too.”

“Huh?”

“Yes, exactly. Cal Collins is back here, working for my father. He’s the plantation foreman, which means he’s pretty much running the whole show.”

“Get outta here.”

“I wish I could. He’s here and he’s single. He never married Marsha. They never had a child together. Can you believe that?”

“I mean,” Rae said, louder this time, “get outta here and tell me that so ain’t happening.”

“It’s happening, all right. We’ve already had a fight of sorts. I was a bit mean to him, but seeing him here again had me so flustered I don’t remember what I said.”

“Oh, now, Cassie, you need to just stay away from that man. Don’t provoke him. It won’t work.”

“Don’t I know it,” Cassie said. She paced across the bedroom and sank down on the chaise, memories of all the great books she’d read while sitting here merging with all the memories of Cal she’d tried to bury forever. “I just can’t figure out why he’d come back here after everything that happened.”

“Yeah, like your daddy telling him to get lost and like you seeing him with that redheaded floozy right after he promised to stick by you and love you no matter what?”

“I can’t believe he’s here,” Cassie said. “I can’t believe I’m here.”

“I can’t believe y’all are there together,” Rae added. “You know Mama Louise is going to freak, right? So what’re you gonna do now?”

Cassie could just see Rae’s mother rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “I’m going to work on making sure my inventory is updated and my fall and spring lines go into production and then I’ll focus on my future collections, all the while staying near my father. I’m going to meet with his doctors and get the real story and I’m going to do a thorough review of everything that’s going on around here, starting with my father’s holdings and assets and ending with a long talk with him regarding the future of this place. And while I’m at it, I’m going to forget that the man who broke my heart is now back in my life.”

“It’s like déjà vu all over again.”

“Yes, it is. I’m not so sure I can go through this again,” Cassie said, tears springing to her eyes. “It was horrible when my mother died but Cal was there to help me through that.” Even if he had betrayed her a few days later.

“And now he’s there to help you through this, maybe?” Rae asked.

Cassie sat straight up, her mind whirling like a tilling blade. “He did tell me he came back here for me, but I didn’t believe him.”

“You think maybe he’s trying to make amends?”

“No. He was with Marsha when I arrived. Right there on the front porch, at that.”

“What? And you let him stay on after that?”

“He claims things are over between them, but he never explained how that whole marriage-and-a-baby thing never happened. I still don’t know what to believe.”

“Oh, this is getting better and better.” Rae let out a huff of breath. “Maybe he came back because he knew you’d come home, what with your daddy’s condition and all. He must want to see you again in a bad way.”

“Well, he had to agree to this for some reason. He claims he’s here to help my father and he is good at his job. He was always good at dealing with the land and the livestock and the million things that can go wrong on a working farm. But he had to leave his own farm to come back here. I just don’t get it. Why would he choose this place over the one he’s obviously worked so hard to acquire for himself?”

“But he told you he’d come back for you?”

“Yes, but maybe that’s just an excuse, a cover. I don’t know why he’s here and I don’t care. Let’s change the subject. Anything urgent I need to handle?”

“No, nothing. Everything is going smoothly here. We got the mock-ups for the ads we placed in the spring issues of Vogue and Marie Claire and we’re all set for the fall show at the Atlanta Trade Center. Well, as all set as we can be, barring the models show up and the designs work. You just need to create some great, gorgeous pieces for the next few seasons’ collections, okay?”

“I’m afraid with the mood I’m in, my collection might be more Gothic than gorgeous.”

“How about gorgeous Gothic then? Use all that angst to create your designs. Go with the Wuthering Heights factor.”

Cassie thought of flowing linen top coats and wispy dresses and skirts, maybe with cashmere sweaters and draping wraps. Rae knew all about Cassie’s fascination with the Brontë sisters.

“Good idea,” she told Rae. “Maybe with a little steam-punk thrown in. I’ll get back to you. Right now, let’s go over some of the things I have on my urgent list.”

After a half hour of work details, Cassie finished the call. “I think that’s it for now. I’ll set up a video conference with the whole team once I get my bearings. And remember, no one else needs to know where I am, especially Ned.”

“Got it,” Rae said. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Cassie smiled into the phone. “I will. You, too. Call me and keep me posted.”

“Same here, darlin’. And hey, you know I can send Mama down there in a flash.”

“I appreciate that, but I have to handle this myself.”

Cassie disconnected, determination overcoming her fears now that she’d had a heart-to-heart with Rae. Work and her daddy, those were her goals for now. Those and trying not to think of Cal living down in that two-bedroom foreman’s cottage right out past the garden proper.

He’d always been just out of her reach. Nothing about that would change now.

She got up and opened the French doors then walked onto the broad wraparound gallery to look out over the sloping garden and the fields and pastures beyond. Camellia Plantation covered close to a thousand acres, some of that in cash crops such as corn, soybeans and peanuts, some in pastureland and pecan trees and the rest in forests and woods that hunters paid to lease so they could roam around during hunting season. Her home was vast and all-encompassing and worth millions.

As she made her way downstairs, that thought hung over Cassie’s head like a dark cloud. Millions. Millions of dollars and thousands of acres. Prime real estate in fertile, lush southwest Georgia, made for cash crops and hunting leases and fishing lakes and pastures for livestock and horses.

And it would all be hers after her father died.

Unless, of course, he’d decided to cut her out of his will.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, her mind whirling. She didn’t want to lose the land or this house, but she didn’t care about the money. Maybe somebody else here did.

Then instead of going into the kitchen to find Teresa, or turning toward her father’s sick room, Cassie headed out the back door, searching for the white Chevy pickup she’d seen parked by Cal’s house. But she didn’t need to find the truck.

She saw the man himself down by the stables. He didn’t notice her as he entered the big open barn. Cassie wanted to finish their earlier conversation.

Hurrying down the dusty lane, Cassie almost trotted toward the big red barn where her father kept several workhorses. As she entered the stable, she blocked out the memories of her clandestine meetings here with Cal and the memory of her father shooting her beloved horse, Heathcliff, after the nervous gelding had spooked and thrown her mother to her death out underneath that old oak near the driveway.

But she couldn’t block out the rush of warring feelings crashing throughout her system. “Cal?” she called, the smell of horses and hay assaulting her. “Cal, where are you?”

“In here,” he called from the tack room, his head sticking out, his expression full of surprise and wariness. “What is it? Is Marcus okay?”

Cassie shook her head, her earlier anger boiled down to simmering. “It’s not that. He was sleeping last time I checked. I need to ask you something.” She pivoted toward the door of the small office. “And I need an honest answer.”

“Sure.” Cal came to lean a shoulder on the doorjamb, his eyes sweeping over her before his gaze settled on her face. “What is it?”

She met him face-to-face, her dry throat giving her time to compose herself. “Did you come back here for me, or did you come back here for this plantation?”

He lifted off the jamb, his wariness changing to disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“You know what I mean.” She pushed against a stall, leaning back. “My father is dying. There’s a lot at stake here. You always wanted a place like Camellia and you two were close before…before everything fell apart. So close that he often talked about letting you take over one day. So tell me the truth, Cal. Did you come back to take over this plantation and make it your own?”

CHAPTER FOUR

“YOU JUST DON’T GIVE up, do you?”

Cal waited for Cassie to answer the question, hoping it would deflect the one she’d just thrown at him. He couldn’t be the one to explain things to her. She’d take the information and turn on him. And how could he blame her? He’d vowed to never come back, so he did look suspicious. Wishing he’d defied Marcus and at least warned her, he figured even that might have backfired. If she’d known he’d be waiting for her, she wouldn’t have come home. He had no doubt of that. And she needed to be with her father, if for nothing else then to hear the truth from Marcus. Even Marcus deserved to die with everything off his chest. So now Cal stood and felt the force of her suspicions sizzling over his system.

“Give up?” She pushed off the stall and stood close, her blue eyes shooting fire. “I had to give up. I had to leave and start over on my own. I had nothing, Cal. Nothing and no one. So I reinvented myself, or rather, I found myself. I worked hard and I didn’t come begging to anybody back at Camellia Plantation. My father paid for my education, but I paid for my sins. Over and over.”

Her hand fisted against her chest. “Me, Cal. By myself. I did give up for a long time, but I’m back and I need to know the truth. I have a right to ask questions now, don’t I? So do me a favor and answer me. Don’t you think you owe me that at least?”

She stopped, heaving a great breath, her cheeks high with color, her expression still consumed with shock and confusion.

“I need some answers, Cal. I’ve held things inside for a long time now. I’m trying to understand. I need to understand.”

Cal dropped the papers he’d been planning to go over. He couldn’t give her the answers she needed. But the guilt of letting her go without a fight long ago festered in his soul like a disease. Why had he allowed Marcus to do this to her? To do this to their love? Why hadn’t he fought harder for her?

But his hands were tied. He’d promised Marcus. And he’d protected Cassie. He was still protecting her. “You need to talk to your father. He’s the one who hired me and he’s the one who summoned you home.”

“Summoned? That’s a good word for it.” She paced and then looked around as if she’d just realized where she was, the fire in her eyes changing to a smoldering awareness. “Summoned back to my own home and only because it’s the end and he doesn’t want to die with our nonexistent relationship on his conscience. You know, I almost didn’t come home. But I couldn’t live with myself, thinking of him being so sick, so alone. I had to come on the hope that he’d forgive me for whatever I did, not so much to give him any kind of peace, but to make me feel better. That sounds selfish and horrible, but it’s the truth. I don’t understand my father, but I need him to forgive me. Does he still hold it against me, this thing that happened with you and me? Or is there more that I don’t know? Does he ever talk to you about any of this?”

Cal didn’t know what to say since Marcus had never truly confided in him. But he’d pretty much figured the rest out. What could he say? He’d come back here for so many reasons, but only she mattered. He could deny that all day, but the truth shadowed him the same way the scent of magnolias haunted him.

“He talks to me about the plantation. Business-type things that he’s worried about. He’s never once mentioned us or anything else that happened before you left.” Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Marcus had talked to Cal a lot about the past and the future. But he wasn’t ready to go there with her. One more topic Marcus would have to bring up, because Cal sure wasn’t.

Marcus had talked about a lot of things, including Cassie and Cal. At least when he was coherent. Cal couldn’t tell her about the confused rants and unknowingly blurted confessions. Or the grand idea her sick daddy had presented.

“You mean my mother’s death,” she said, taking up the conversation when Cal had sputtered to silence. “That’s when everything changed. I thought he was angry because he’d found us together but there was something else. That’s when he turned against me. He found her dead and then he shot my horse and after that day he caught you with me, he’d hardly even look at me. What did I do?”

He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her she didn’t do anything. Marcus Brennan was a miserable old man who’d treated everyone around him with disdain and demands. He wanted to tell her that he hated what he’d done to her. But he didn’t have all the answers even if he’d pieced things together enough to understand. But if he’d guessed right, it would destroy her.

“I don’t have the answers, Cassie. I swear to you, I don’t know why he treats people the way he does, especially you. I try to steer away from anything that upsets him.”

She whirled, her hand going to her mouth. “In other words, he never talks about me? Because I upset him, right? Maybe I should have stayed in Atlanta.”

Cal came around the desk then, his hands fisted at his side so he wouldn’t touch her. “No, you need to be here. That much I can tell you. He made sure of that, Cassie. You want answers, well, then, go talk to Marcus. Make him explain things to you. That’s the only way you’ll ever understand.”

She looked at him, her eyes widening. “You do know something but you’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“It’s not my place.”

She put her arms across her chest. “I think you’ve already answered me. I remember enough about you to consider that you’d find this place extremely lucrative. Add this property to what you’ve acquired over the years and it all makes sense. You could finally establish yourself as one of the most powerful landowners in southwest Georgia. I want to believe you came back here to help me, but you’d certainly have a good reason to want revenge, too. I just have to decide which. And I’m gonna need some time to make up my mind.”

With that, she turned and pranced out of the stable, her silhouette darkened by the late afternoon sunshine.

The light from that brightness, pitched against the shadows of dusk, hurt Cal’s eyes. She had a point. He’d thought of a lot of reasons for accepting Marcus Brennan’s offer. And revenge had crossed his mind a time or two. But so had the possibility of finally making amends for breaking Cassie’s heart.

CASSIE OPENED THE DOOR to the dark study. The nurse sitting with her father nodded to her then got up to meet her.

“He’s sleeping, Miss Cassie. But it’s almost time for his dinner if you’d like to stay and talk while I feed him.”

“I’ll feed him,” Cassie said, the words sounding strange on her tongue.

Having to spoon-feed her once-proud father caused a giant lump to form in her throat. How had she let it come to this? She should have forced her way back into his good graces years ago. But she’d been too hurt to think beyond getting away from this place and the condemnation and hatred she’d seen in his eyes.

“Are you sure?” the nurse asked, her eyes full of sympathy and understanding. “My shift’s over at five-thirty so I can do it.”

Cassie glanced at the clock on the bookshelf. “That’s another hour. Why don’t you go on home? I’ll stay with him until your relief comes.”

“I’m not supposed to leave him without permission. Usually Teresa or Mr. Collins makes that call.”

Cassie’s anger resurfaced but she couldn’t blame the aide for doing her job. “I’m his next of kin and I say it’s okay. You can go and I’ll stay with him until the shift changes. Don’t worry, I’ll take full responsibility.”

Her father stirred at the whispered voices. “Gennie?”

The aide gave Cassie an apologetic shake of the head. “He’s always asking for her. Your mother?”

Cassie nodded, her silence holding back the dam on her emotions. Glancing at her father’s struggle with the covers, she whispered, “Go ahead and tell Teresa to prepare his dinner. I promise I’ll stay with him. I need to get used to doing this. I’ll go over his medication with the night-shift aide.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The woman gathered her things and went out the door, quietly closing it behind her.

“Who’s there?” Marcus tried to sit but fell back against the pillows.

“It’s me, Daddy.” Cassie hurried to the bed and stopped him from pulling the breathing tube out of his nose. “It’s Cassie. Just calm down.”

“Where’s your mother? I saw her. I saw her right over there.”

Shock jolted Cassie into action. “Daddy, it’s okay. No one’s here but me. I told your aide to go home. Teresa is bringing your dinner. Are you hungry?”

He seemed to realize he was in this room at this time. His eyes went from a vacant stare to a more lucid clarity. “I must have been dreaming. I thought you were your mother.” He shrank back into the pillows, his disappointment heavy in the air. “I forgot that she’s dead.”

Cassie couldn’t speak. The depth of his grief ate at her with a stinging that felt like fire ants biting into her skin. She’d allowed this to happen. She’d stayed away, hating herself, and hating the man he’d become. She’d let this estrangement rip them apart and now it had made her bitter and distrustful and her father so ill and grief-stricken he was dying a slow, horrible death.

He opened his eyes to stare up at her. “Cassie-girl, you came home. I’m so glad.”

Cassie inhaled a gulping breath. “Are you, Daddy?”

“Of course I am, girl. I told ’em to call you home. I have a lot to discuss with you. Not much time.”

She wondered if Cal already knew what her father wanted to talk to her about. She’d just have to keep digging until she found out. “What do you want to tell me?”

He let out a shuddering cackle. “So much. Too much.”

Cassie found a chair and pulled it up to the bed. “I’m here now, Daddy. You can tell me whatever you want.”

But did she want to hear everything he had to tell?

CAL CAME IN THE BACK DOOR and turned toward the long, sunny kitchen on the right. Teresa was in her usual spot in the little sitting room by the breakfast nook, watching the evening news. Her apartment was next to the sitting room. “Hey,” she said, never taking her eyes off the television. “Looks like rain tomorrow.”

“Yep.” Right now he didn’t really care about the peanuts and corn. “Time for his tray?”

She got up. “It’s on the stove.” She went over and pulled the foil off the mashed potatoes and tiny chunks of beef stew and gravy. “Cal, Cassie’s in there with him. She sent the day nurse home.”