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She shrugged, abashed by the warmth in his voice. ‘I love it.’
‘How long have you been doing it?’
Her eyes slid from his. ‘Ten years.’
There was a long silence. Finally Sol asked, ‘How long have you been helping Alec?’
‘Two years.’
‘Two years?’ He jerked around to face her fully. ‘He’s been sick for two years and he never told me?’
‘He’s being looked after.’
‘Yeah, but—’
‘But what? You’d have come home, seen he was getting the right kind of care, then left again.’
He raked a hand through his hair. ‘How long has he got?’
‘You’re a better man than I if you can get a straight answer to that one,’ she sighed.
He stared back out at the yard and Cassie’s chest ached. Why did it have to be such hell sometimes? Who had decided Sol should draw the short straw where family was concerned—the shortest of short straws—when Brian had had so much?
She froze that thought. Brian was dead. He didn’t have anything any more.
‘Why didn’t you let me know, Cassie? You could’ve rung or written.’
‘It was Alec’s choice. His decision to make.’ Her hands twisted together in her lap.
‘And?’
His eyes didn’t leave her face. It was almost frightening the way he could still read her. ‘And you didn’t answer the last time I wrote to you.’
His eyes darkened, then shuttered, and something inside Cassie squeezed painfully.
‘I would’ve come back for this.’
But her wedding hadn’t been important enough? It was as if he’d wiped Schofield from his mind completely. And her with it. ‘You left this town and all of us in it far behind.’ And maybe it had been for the best. ‘I never thought you’d come back. Ever. I didn’t try and get in touch with you because I thought hearing from me, hearing from anyone in Schofield, would be just about the last thing you’d want.’
His hands clenched into fists as he turned and stared at her. ‘Then you were wrong.’
‘You could’ve let me know that ten years ago.’
He stared back out at the yard and Cassie shivered. She’d never seen his eyes so dark…so…
Her mouth went dry. ‘Why have you come back, Sol?’
He shrugged. ‘Curiosity, I guess.’
He met her eyes, but the darkness still lurked in them and Cassie knew he was lying. She just didn’t know why.
CHAPTER TWO
‘IT’S pretty hot, Alec. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer a salad?’
‘Sausages, mash, peas and carrots,’ Alec repeated. ‘I don’t care how hot it is.’
‘Okay, okay.’ She pulled the sausages out of the fridge. ‘Catch.’ She tossed him a carrot. ‘Peel that while I take care of the potatoes.’ She smothered a grin at his grumbling. She knew he liked her being here, bossing him about, not treating him like an invalid. ‘Where’s Sol?’
‘Out.’
‘Out?’ she parroted stupidly, then bit her lip to stop herself from asking, Out where?
‘Why’d you have to go and rile him up earlier?’
Indignation slugged through her. ‘I did no such thing.’
‘Humph.’
Or had she? She popped the sausages under the grill. ‘Maybe being home has riled him.’
‘Humph.’
‘You have to admit he can’t have many fond memories of living here.’
Alec didn’t even humph this time. He stayed silent.
‘Do you like having him back?’ She probably shouldn’t have asked but she couldn’t help it. Alec had not been a kind father. In fact, at times he’d been downright mean. That was what alcohol had done to him. But, as she’d told Sol earlier, Alec hadn’t had a drink in over two years. He’d changed. He’d mellowed. And she sensed he regretted the past.
She sliced the carrot. It didn’t mean he was glad to see Sol, though. Maybe he resented the reminder of a past that filled him with shame?
‘It’s good to see the lad,’ Alec mumbled.
She tried to school her surprise. ‘Good.’ His words made her fiercely glad and fiercely angry all at the same time. ‘Have you told him so?’
‘Humph.’
She turned the sausages. ‘I think you should tell him.’ She met his eyes. ‘Don’t you let him leave like he did last time.’ That would be too awful for words.
The older man’s eyes dropped. ‘He hasn’t come back to see me.’
She had an uncanny feeling Alec was right. ‘Maybe not,’ she agreed. ‘But all the same—’
‘Go on, tell me I deserve it.’
‘Okay, you deserve it.’ A shaft of pity spiked through her as he hunched in his wheelchair. ‘But you’ve an opportunity with him now that you never thought you’d get again. Make the most of it.’
He glanced at her. ‘You think there’s a chance?’
‘There’s always a chance.’ She set a place for him at the table. ‘Just don’t let him leave like he did last time.’
Maybe Alec didn’t deserve a second chance with Sol, but she knew if her mother had given her one she’d have jumped at it.
Maybe Sol was different. Maybe he—
No. She and Sol were two of a kind. Or they always had been, and ten years couldn’t change him that much.
She dropped into the seat opposite. ‘Tell me, Alec, do you have a Christmas tree?’
Cassie bounded up the back steps and into the kitchen. ‘Sorry I’m late, Jean.’ She kissed the older woman’s cheek.
‘You’re not late. You’re right on time.’
Cassie took in the tired lines around Jean’s eyes and a shaft of guilt speared through her. Normally she arrived early on a Thursday night to help prepare the meal. ‘What can I do?’
‘It’s all under control, dear.’ Jean picked up a platter of fried chicken. ‘You could bring those salads through.’
Cassie seized the bowls and followed Jean into the dining room to find the rest of the family already assembled. With a smile she relaxed into them. The Parkers—the family Brian had given her. And Thursday night was family night, when they all gathered here at Jack and Jean’s.
She loved them with a fierceness born of desperation. The desperation of someone who’d never had a family or known family life until they’d hugged her to their collective bosom with a warmth that had taken her breath away.
It still did, really.
She slipped into her seat beside Tracey, Brian’s younger sister, and across from Fran, his older one. Fran’s husband Claude beamed with good health and good cheer beside Fran. Cassie figured he had a lot to be cheerful about. She averted her eyes from the bulge burgeoning under Fran’s dress, tried to dispel the ache that gripped her.
From the corner of her eye she watched Jack as he said grace. He looked tired too. Neither he nor Jean had slept well since Brian’s death. Cassie smothered a sigh. It had been nearly eighteen months. She’d hoped…
Hoped what? Brian had been their golden boy—the whole town’s golden boy. The rugby genius who’d played for Australia and put the town of Schofield on the map. Some things you just didn’t get over, ever. And for Jean and Jack she had a feeling Brian’s death was one of them.
Maybe if she’d produced that much-wanted grandchild…She smothered another sigh and thrust the thought away, averting her eyes from Fran’s tummy as best she could.
‘How is your work going, Cassandra?’
She shot Jack a smile. ‘Fabulous.’ She knew how proud they all were of her community work. But then, they were a community-minded family. It was one of the reasons the town had rallied around so much when Brian had died. ‘Maisie’s twin nieces showed up the day before yesterday.’
‘Ooh, how are they?’ Jean cut in, always interested to hear news of youngsters who no longer lived in Schofield.
‘Great. You’ll never guess what they’ve done.’ She handed the potato salad across to Claude. ‘They’ve packed her a suitcase and whisked her off on a cruise for Christmas.’
‘How lovely.’ Jean clasped her hands together. ‘They always were nice girls, and so was their mother. It was a real tragedy, her dying so young.’
Silence enveloped them. As it always did when death was mentioned. She could almost see the image of Brian sweep across the table.
Tracey cleared her throat. ‘You and Dad should go on a cruise, Mum.’
‘Oh, no, dear, we couldn’t.’
‘Why not?’ Tracey persisted.
‘Well, now…I mean…’
‘Your mother means our life is here.’
Cassie gulped as Jack glared at his youngest daughter. ‘Guess who I saw today?’ she jumped in, before Tracey could argue her point further. ‘You’ll never guess, so I’ll have to tell you.’ She accepted a bread roll from the basket Jean held out to her. She smiled around the table. ‘Sol Adams.’
Tracey and Jack stopped glaring at each other to gape at her. Jean dropped the basket of bread rolls.
‘Sol Adams?’ Fran frowned, as if trying to place him.
‘Yes—you remember,’ Tracey leaned forward, excitement shooting from her in all directions. ‘He was in Cassie and Brian’s year. Seriously hunky.’ She turned to Cassie. ‘Have you actually seen him?’
‘Sure.’ She helped Jean pick up the scattered bread rolls. ‘He’s staying with Alec.’
‘Omigod, all the girls in my year had serious crushes on him.’
Cassie’s eyebrows shot up towards her hairline. ‘Really?’
Tracey rolled her eyes. ‘All the girls in your year just couldn’t see past Brian, but we knew better.’
‘Tracey Phyllis Parker!’ Jean looked as if she were about to cry. ‘How on earth can you say such a thing? And with Cassie sitting here and all.’
Tracey glanced at Cassie, stricken. ‘I’m sorry, Cassie. I didn’t—’
‘Relax, Mum. Cassie’s fine—aren’t you?’ Fran’s even tones broke over them and Cassie nodded gratefully. ‘No sister is going to find her brother a hunk. Not even the sisters of the legendary Brian Parker.’
‘Yes, well, I suppose you’re right,’ Jean sighed. ‘But even so.’
‘Even so what?’ Fran teased.
‘Even so, we know that Sol Adams isn’t half the man Brian was. Isn’t that so, Cassandra?’
A band tightened around Cassie’s chest, trying to suffocate her.
‘Nonsense,’ Tracey scoffed.
‘Isn’t that so, Cassandra?’ Jack persisted.
Cassie forced a smile. ‘I married Brian, so that makes me biased.’ Though maybe not in the way Jack thought. ‘Sol didn’t have things easy.’ Not like Brian. The words hung in the air unsaid. She bit her lip. ‘He was always nice to me. We were neighbours.’ She shrugged. ‘We were friends.’ She could tell Jack didn’t like her words.
‘So what did he have to say? What did you talk about? Has he changed?’
Tracey’s gunfire questions made Cassie laugh. ‘It’s been ten years. Sure he’s changed. We all have.’
‘You’ve got prettier.’ Tracey said the words as a statement of fact. ‘Is Sol hunkier?’
Is he what? But she couldn’t tell them that! ‘I, uh, I don’t know.’ Jack shot Tracey a triumphant glare, and Cassie couldn’t help herself. ‘He’s filled out…grown into all that height. Remember how he used to be kind of gangly and lanky?’ Tracey nodded eagerly. ‘Well, he’s not any more.’
Jack concentrated on the plate of food in front of him and Jean’s gaze darted from Cassie to Tracey and back again. Remorse stabbed her. She shouldn’t have said anything.
