LITMIR.BIZ

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a legacy that told many tales, her own parents being part of that. Her father was the last of the Brennans. If she didn’t marry and produce offspring, she would be the last once he was gone.

      Since she wasn’t very good in the relationship department, there was little chance of Cassie ever becoming a wife and mother.

      Maybe that was the reason she’d decided to come home. Because in spite of everything, this was her home. Lately, living in Atlanta had become unpleasant in spite of her growing fame as an up-and-coming fashion designer and the success of her downtown boutique aptly named Cassie’s Closet, in spite of the spiffy midtown loft she’d redecorated and spruced up herself. And in spite of her much-touted love life with lawyer and hotshot Atlanta businessman Ned Patterson.

      Or maybe because of her love life, or lack thereof. She’d broken things off with her fiancé. But Ned hadn’t taken it very well. Cassie couldn’t blame Ned. She hadn’t loved him very well.

      Then she remembered Cal’s eyes when he’d turned to look down at her there on the porch. Blue, a rich navy blue that bordered on velvet. Once a beautiful, loving blue that wrapped her in warmth. Now a hard cold blue that raked her with what looked like scorn and disdain.

      Did he hate her that much?

      Looking up the curving staircase, Cassie had to wonder if she’d gone from the frying pan to the fire, coming back here. Had she run away from one bad situation only to rush headlong into another one?

      Hearing pots and pans being shuffled in the kitchen, she walked up the wide central hallway past the staircase, her heels clicking against the aged heart-of-pine floors, the smell of wisteria mixed with lavender wafting by and bringing memories that assaulted her with such clarity, she felt sixteen again.

      “Hello?” she called, praying Cal would be long gone by now. Praying he wouldn’t make this any more difficult than it already was.

      “Cassie, is that you?”

      “Teresa, yes, it’s me.” She hurried into the kitchen to the left of the hallway, rounding the corner in time to see Teresa Jordan wiping her hands on a fluffy towel. “Hi.”

      “Hi, honey.” Teresa opened her arms wide. “C’mon and give me a hug.”

      Teresa had been with Cassie’s family since Cassie was a little girl. Her mother, Eugenia, and Teresa had been like sisters. Eugenia had introduced Teresa to Walt and had been matron of honor at their wedding here on the grounds. They’d never had children, but Cassie didn’t understand why Teresa had stayed after Eugenia, and later Walt, had died. Teresa was loyal to Marcus Brennan and even though they hadn’t communicated too much during recent years, Cassie sure was glad to see the woman now.

      Cassie rushed into her arms, taking in the scent of Jergens lotion mixed with the smell of bacon grease and cornbread. Tears pricked at her eyes. This was what it felt like to be welcomed home. This was what she’d missed all of these years. These things and…being here with Cal, of course.

      But she put that thought out of her head.

      Teresa finally let her go then stood back, her brown eyes wide, her smile genuine. Pushing a hand through her short grayish-brown hair, she said, “Look at you. As pretty as ever. I saw your picture in People, you know. One of the up-and-coming designers of last year. Cassie’s Closet seems to be the thing these days. They carry your ready-to-wear in Belk’s and Dillard’s. I have two of your dresses that I wear to church. Lordy mercy, ain’t that something now.”

      Cassie’s smile was shaky and shy. “Something, all right.”

      She had last-minute promos to do for the fall line and paperwork for the production of next spring’s collection, not to mention finishing up the actual designs for the next season. The fashion industry dictated that she stay a couple of years ahead. Taking a breath, she willed her nerves to calm down. “I’ll have plenty to keep me busy while I’m here. But…I’m hanging in there.”

      “And you’re good at it from what I see and hear.” Teresa pushed at Cassie’s hair. “How you doing, honey?”

      “I’m not sure,” Cassie said, wondering how many more surprises she could handle. “How is he today?”

      “Not good.” Teresa shook her head, tears springing up in her eyes. “I’m so glad he let me call you.”

      “Me, too. But does he really want me here or did you force him into letting you call?”

      “No, he wants to see you. He sure does. I think he’s decided it’s time to mend his ways and…let go of the past.”

      “Can we do that, really?’

      “We have to,” Teresa said. “Want to see him now, or would you rather freshen up and have some lunch first?”

      “Now,” Cassie said, the thought of food turning her stomach. “Is he upstairs?”

      “No, darlin’.” Teresa motioned to what used to be a big office-and-den combination at the back of the house. “We had to move his bed down here. He can’t make it up the stairs anymore.”

      Cassie nodded, put down her purse and straightened her dress. When they got to the closed door of the den, she pivoted around, wishing she could bolt out of the house and hide in the stables the way she used to do when she was young and afraid.

      That was how she’d met Cal face-to-face, after first seeing him from a distance…and keeping her own distance. He’d found her hiding in the stables late one fall afternoon. And after that, she hadn’t been nearly as afraid or lonely as before.

      A lot had happened since then.

      But she wouldn’t be scared anymore. She had a lot of questions.

      Beginning with one.

      “Teresa, after I visit with Daddy, I want you to explain to me what Cal Collins is doing back at Camellia.”

      And why no one had bothered to warn her about that.

      CHAPTER TWO

      CASSIE ENTERED THE darkened room, her heart whispering a silent warning. The ceiling-to-floor windows across one wall of the big square room usually showed a panoramic view of the sloping backyard and the pool area. But today, the heavy beige drapes were drawn shut, causing patches of desperate sunshine to break through like lurking spotlights onto the high ceiling.

      It took her a while to focus and get her bearings. The hospital bed had been set up in the corner where her father’s big oak desk used to be. The desk was gone but the sitting area remained the same, centered around the brick fireplace across from the bed. The row of bookshelves surrounding the fireplace remained full of volumes of various sizes and types, reminding Cassie of what a bookworm she’d always been in school.

      Until that summer when Cal had brought her out of hiding and brought the world to her with all his talk of traveling and buying up land and…so many other dreams.

      It felt surreal, being here in this room, hiding in darkness, shaking away in this atmosphere of sickness and death.

      She didn’t want to advance toward the bed in the corner, toward the still, skeletal man lying in that bed. He didn’t look like the father she remembered.

      Marcus Brennan had been larger than life—a rancher, a cowboy, a hunter and sportsman, a businessman and a gentleman with impeccable manners when around ladies and a brawling disregard when he went hunting or fishing with his cronies. He ruled this part of the state of Georgia and people either feared him or respected him.

      At times, Cassie had felt both. Right now, she wasn’t sure what to feel, or what to say. So she just stood, her prayers centered on the next step. Then she heard her father’s voice for the first time in twelve years.

      “Cassie?”

      Cassie gulped back a silent sob. She wouldn’t cry now, not when she’d cried so many tears she’d probably be able to fill the Chattahoochee River. Not

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