Page 11 of Last One Home


  She brought the mail into the house while Garth brought out the barbecue grill from the shed, where they kept it in winter, and washed it off. Holding on to the envelope, she set the rest of the mail on the kitchen counter and opened the notice from the bank.

  Their account was overdrawn. Money had been automatically transferred from their savings account to cover the deficit. What was going on here?

  Karen didn’t say anything when Garth came into the house. Instead she just handed him the single sheet and let him read the notice for himself.

  “Oops,” he muttered. “I guess I’m not as good at this bill paying as I thought.”

  “Didn’t you get a text from the bank?” she asked. Garth’s phone number was the one listed for the account.

  “If I did, it slipped my notice.”

  “Is there a fee attached to this?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Garth confessed. “I doubt it. We’ve never bounced a check before … well, technically, we didn’t now.”

  “Only because we have a healthy amount in our savings account.”

  “Thankfully.” He kissed her cheek and opened the refrigerator for the meat.

  “I’ll make a macaroni salad to go with those burgers,” she said, and got going on a cake for tomorrow night, too.

  Chapter 12

  Cassie had been in a blue funk when she’d spoken to Megan at the Habitat office. Losing the part-time job with the caterer had been an emotional hit that sent her reeling. But even before Steve showed up at Goldie Locks she’d decided against taking a hiatus. Their discussion, if she could call it that, as well as the apology after, had cleared the air between them. They’d sort of made peace with each other. Cassie had put in her hours that week, going directly from the salon to the construction site for an hour or two nearly every day. Shelly and George’s home was close to completion. The inside was all painted and the flooring was nearly finished.

  On Sunday Amiee had a day planned with her best friend, Claudia, who was having a birthday party, which gave Cassie six hours to dedicate toward the Habitat project.

  In addition, with Megan’s urging, Cassie had signed up to work at the Hoedown on the third Saturday in May, serving food and seating the guests. The time spent volunteering at the fund-raiser would count toward her five-hundred-hour obligation. A lot of the volunteers, including Shelly, talked about the Hoedown and what a good time everyone had, and Cassie was actually looking forward to it.

  She enjoyed working with Shelly. They were putting the finishing touches on the trim in the master bedroom right then.

  “Everything going well in here?” Steve asked, stepping into the room to check their progress.

  “Moving like a runaway freight train,” Cassie assured him.

  “Then slow down. There’s no need to rush.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” she teased.

  He smiled and returned to the kitchen, where he was laying down linoleum with George.

  “Steve says that at the pace we’re progressing, George and I might be able to move in two or three weeks.”

  “That’s wonderful news.” Cassie had a piece of good news herself. Habitat had purchased a vacant lot in the same school district where Amiee attended classes, which might mean she could stay in the same school even when they got their new house. This was especially gratifying after all the moves her daughter had made in her young life. What Cassie longed for most was to give Amiee love and a deep sense of security—uprooting her every few months had been traumatic for her daughter. It had gotten better after Cassie left Duke, but only slightly. The thought of a permanent home for her and Amiee was more than she ever dreamed possible.

  “Cassie, would you …” Shelly asked.

  Cassie turned around, but as she did, her foot slipped on a splotch of wet paint. Before she realized what was happening, she took a tumble. She heard the sleeve of her jacket tear and then felt a pain sharp enough to make her gasp.

  Shelly raced across the room. “You okay?”

  “I think so.” Cassie was more stunned than hurt, although she could see blood gushing down her arm.

  “It doesn’t look like it. Stay here,” Shelly shouted in a panic. “Don’t move.”

  “I’m fine, Shelly,” Cassie insisted, although her arm really did sting. She couldn’t get a good look at it but could feel it was bleeding badly. Worst of all, her jacket was ruined. It wasn’t like she had a closet bursting with a huge wardrobe. She should never have worn it.

  “Cassie’s hurt.” Shelly shouted for Steve, and Cassie heard the panic in her friend’s voice.

  It didn’t take a minute for Steve to find her.

  Shelly stood protectively over Cassie. “I told her not to move.”

  “Good.” Steve got down on one knee next to Cassie. “You did the right thing.”

  His face was grim and she half expected a lecture. “Better let me see what you did to yourself,” he said. Looking over his shoulder, he asked Shelly to get the first-aid kit.

  “I’m okay,” Cassie insisted, embarrassed by all the fuss.

  “I’m better qualified to judge that.” The jacket sleeve was torn already, and he ripped it wide open to get a better view of the injury.

  Shelly returned and handed Steve the first-aid kit.

  “Thanks,” he said, as he opened it and removed a thick wad of gauze, which he pressed against the cut.

  “There’s a lot of blood,” Shelly commented, her eyes brooding and serious. Because it was on the back of her arm, Cassie couldn’t get a good look at the cut.

  “It looks deep,” George murmured, standing next to his wife. He, too, wore a look of concern.

  Shelly’s face was grim.

  Steve sighed and announced, “I’m afraid you’re going to need stitches.”

  Even without the ability to look, Cassie was sure the cut couldn’t possibly be that bad. “It’ll be fine. Just wrap it up so it quits bleeding and I’ll be good as new. It hardly hurts—if you put a bandage on it I’ll go back to work.”

  “You’re going, all right,” Steve insisted. “You’ll go directly to the ER.”

  “Steve,” she protested.

  His hard gaze met hers. “I would think by now you’d know better than to argue with me.”

  She could put up a fuss, but Cassie recognized all the complaining in the world wouldn’t do her any good. “All right, if you insist.”

  “I do.” With a gentleness she didn’t expect from him, he helped her to her feet. He gave her a few moments to steady herself and kept his arm tucked securely around her waist.

  By the time he got Cassie settled inside his truck, her arm was throbbing with such intensity that she was forced to grit her teeth to keep from moaning. The drive to the hospital seemed to take an excruciatingly long time. Neither spoke. By the time they arrived, Cassie was beginning to feel light-headed. Steve parked close to the entrance.

  “Stay put. I’ll come around and get you.”

  She waited until he collected her and slid out of the vehicle, but her knees nearly buckled when her feet hit the pavement. Right away Steve’s arm was around her, holding her upright.

  The waiting room seemed to be packed. To her surprise, she was called in almost right away. Steve might have had some influence, but that didn’t seem possible. Or perhaps she was worse off than she realized.

  “The paperwork?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

  The physician was a woman who, after examining the cut, gave Cassie a shot for the pain.

  The last time Cassie had been in a hospital had been a life-altering moment. The physician had been a woman then, too. Cassie had had yet another “accident” because she was so “clumsy.” That was what Duke had told the attending physician. Her arm was broken and both eyes were black and blue. The female doctor had questioned her extensively. She knew, and Cassie knew she knew. The look in the other woman’s eyes told Cassie she’d figured out that this was no accident.
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  Then Duke picked up on it, too. As soon as the cast was on, her husband had jerked Cassie off the examination table and dragged her away. As they fled the hospital, Cassie saw security chasing after them. She suspected the physician had already contacted law enforcement. What Duke didn’t know was that the doctor had managed to slip Cassie the phone number of a women’s shelter. It was to that very shelter that Cassie had escaped a few weeks later.

  Steve remained in the waiting room while she was being attended to by the medical staff. The cut was deeper and larger than she realized and required twelve stitches.

  When she was finished, the nurse escorted her to the waiting area, where Steve was pacing. He stopped when he saw her. Their eyes connected and Cassie thought she might have seen a look of relief in him.

  “I’m good as new,” she told him, her reassuring smile wobbly at best.

  “Glad to hear it.” He led her out of the hospital and across the parking lot to his vehicle, and carefully helped her inside. She grimaced at the pain the effort caused her just climbing into his pickup.

  “Did you get a prescription for pain?” he asked, and held out his hand expectantly. “Give it to me.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because I’ll get it filled for you.”

  Cassie’s head was swimming. “Oh, I don’t have much cash and—”

  “I’ll worry about that later.” His tone told her this wasn’t a subject he was willing to discuss.

  Too weak to argue, Cassie closed her eyes and braced her head against the side window. He stopped off at the drugstore.

  Cassie remained in the truck as Steve went inside to collect her meds. She leaned her head against the window and remembered when her sister had been badly cut. Cassie had been about fourteen when Nichole ran through the sliding glass door. Their mother was at the grocery store and Karen was with friends, so Cassie was the only one home and had nearly panicked. The sight of all that blood had horrified her, but she’d kept her cool and called 911. Wrapping her sister’s arm in towels, she did what she could to comfort Nichole and assure her she wasn’t going to die, although at the time Cassie had serious doubts. Karen walked in a couple minutes later and took one look at Nichole and burst into tears, which terrified Nichole all the more. The ambulance arrived and took Nichole away. Karen, who had her driver’s license, followed along with Cassie. Unfortunately, their mother returned from the grocery store to find the kitchen a bloody mess. It was a day Cassie would long remember.

  After Nichole was stitched up and returned home, Cassie and Karen stayed with her the rest of the afternoon, reading to her and telling her how brave she was. They promised to let her use their makeup. That afternoon, Nichole lay with her head on Cassie’s lap, and just before she fell asleep she thanked Cassie for saving her life.

  Cassie must have dozed because when she opened her eyes she realized they weren’t anywhere close to the Habitat house. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, perplexed.

  “Home.”

  “But my vehicle is at the site.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve asked one of my men to pick it up and drive it to your place. I’ll take him back afterward.”

  Cassie hardly knew what to say, and when she did speak her voice sounded scratchy and uneven. She wasn’t accustomed to anyone being this accommodating or helpful. “Thank you.”

  He stopped at a red light and looked at her. “You’re welcome, Cassie.” His voice was warm and gentle, and just hearing the tenderness in him made her feel like weeping. She would never allow him to see her get emotional. That would be too embarrassing. She’d learned when she’d been married to hold back tears. Seeing her cry only made Duke angrier.

  That Steve was familiar with her address came as a surprise. She hated the thought of him viewing her dinky, dingy apartment and planned to leap out of the truck and escape the minute they arrived.

  Steve pulled up in front and parked. “Thank you again,” she said, opening the passenger door.

  “Hey, just a minute. I’m coming in with you.”

  “You are?”

  “No choice. I need to wait for Lenny to drop off your vehicle so I can drive him back.”

  “Oh, right.” She dug the key out of the bottom of her purse and unlocked the door, wondering what he would think once he entered her humble lodgings.

  She was being silly, Cassie reminded herself. Just plain silly. If she had lived in a nice apartment, then she wouldn’t need housing from Habitat.

  As soon as she was inside he opened the cupboard doors until he found a glass, filled it with water, and held out a pain pill. “Take this and then lie down.”

  She stared at him, trying to decide if she was going to put up a fuss or do as he demanded. Having a man tell her what to do went against the grain. She’d come too far to have another male dictate her actions.

  “Cassie?” Steve stared at her quizzically.

  Once again she realized she didn’t have the energy to put up a fight. Taking the pill out of the palm of his hand, she reached for the water glass in his opposite hand and swallowed down the pain medication and another pill, too. The doctor mentioned it was to help ward off infection.

  Cassie laid on top of her bed and Steve covered her with an afghan he found in the living room. She was determined to prove to him she was made of sturdier grit than this. Napping in the middle of the afternoon was unheard of for her.

  The next thing Cassie heard were voices. Right away she recognized Steve’s; his friend had arrived. The next voice wasn’t that of a man, though. It belonged to Amiee.

  Amiee was home. Something must have happened, as it was far too early. Her daughter wasn’t due back until five that night and it was only … she looked at her wrist. It was after six. Impossible.

  “Amiee.” Cassie tossed off the blanket and sat upright. The room started to spin and she waited, afraid she’d stumble if she got off the bed now.

  “Oh hi, Mom,” her daughter said ever so casually. “Steve’s here.”

  “Steve?” He should be long gone by now.

  “Steve,” Amiee repeated. “You remember Steve, don’t you?” Then, glancing over her shoulder she asked, “Are you sure she didn’t bump her head?”

  “I know who Steve is,” Cassie muttered, pressing her hand to her forehead. The room hadn’t quit spinning. “What I want to know is why he’s still here.”

  “Mom, that’s rude, especially when he brought dinner.” She lowered her voice. “And it’s KFC.”

  It hadn’t taken Steve long to locate the path that led directly to Amiee’s heart.

  “I saved you a leg.”

  “Nice of you,” she said, coming out of the bedroom, placing her arm against the doorjamb in an effort to regain her balance. Whatever was in that pill Steve gave her had a kick to it.

  “It was very nice of me,” Amiee insisted. “The legs are my favorite part.”

  Pressing her free hand against her forehead, Cassie saw Steve sitting at the kitchen table with a ten-piece bucket of KFC resting in the middle, with all the trimmings that went along with it. “You didn’t need to stay this long,” she told him.

  “I didn’t want your daughter coming home and finding you in bed and injured without anyone else here.”

  Cassie was about to tell him Amiee would be far more worried discovering a man in their apartment, but she let it pass.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, coming to his feet.

  “I don’t know … What’s in those drugs, anyway? They knocked me for a loop.”

  “Are you in pain?”

  She had to stop and do a quick self-inventory. “I don’t think so.”

  “Good.”

  “My car?” It might not be much, but it got her where she needed to go.

  “Parked outside.”

  Amiee beamed at him. “Steve took care of everything. He’s really cool, Mom.”

  “Don’t get a swelled head,” she told him. “It’s the KFC. My daughter has a
weakness for fried chicken.”

  He grinned and looked almost boyish. “I figured as much.”

  “Thank you again.” He had gone above and beyond any expectations.

  He was halfway to the door. “No problem.”

  “Yes, thank you, Steve,” Amiee piped in.

  His gaze connected with Cassie’s. “Call if you need anything.”

  “I will,” Amiee assured him before Cassie could.

  He left then, and the moment the door closed her daughter whirled around. “Mom, is that the same guy we didn’t like before? Because he’s changed, and he’s awesome.”

  “I like Steve,” Cassie said, downplaying her feelings. “He’s a friend, nothing more, got it?” The last thing she needed was her daughter picking up a hint of romance between her and Steve.

  “Mom,” Amiee whispered, as if this was a huge secret they needed to keep under wraps. “He bought me an entire bucket of KFC.”

  “Yes, honey, I know.”

  “I didn’t ask for it or anything.” She made it sound as if Steve had cooked the chicken himself. “This is exactly the kind of guy you should marry … you know, if you ever want to marry again.”

  “Amiee! Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Hey, it was just a suggestion,” her daughter said, gesturing with both hands before she reached for another piece of chicken.

  Chapter 13

  Steve Brody’s mind was full of Cassie. All day she’d been front and center in his thoughts. He wondered how she was feeling, if there was any infection, and hoped she’d taken the day to rest.

  In fact, he was thinking about Cassie on his way to the cemetery and nearly missed the entrance. He made the turn just in time, and was shocked to realize his head had been on another woman on his way to visit his wife’s grave site.

  It’d been two weeks since he’d last visited Alicia’s grave. Generally, he stopped by every few days or so. It was important to him that it be kept neat and that she had fresh flowers. True, he’d been busy, but he was always busy and made time anyway. It shook him that he’d let two entire weeks slip by. He parked in the same spot as always and climbed out of the truck.