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mad at my mom, because she kept pointing out prayers she thought I ought to be learning to save my soul from eternal damnation. I was tired of hearing the same ones over and over again, so I thought a switch would give her some new material.”

      The mention of her mother snapped her back to the present and the worries that had been stirred up about her health, first by Cole, tonight by Karen and even by that incident in town.

      Suddenly she simply had to know the truth. She handed Cole her glass. “I have to go.”

      “Where?” he asked, his expression puzzled.

      “Home. I want to talk to my mother before it gets to be too late.”

      The fact that he simply nodded and didn’t challenge her abrupt decision to leave confirmed her fear that something must be terribly wrong. Moreover, Cole obviously knew what it was. There was too much sympathy in his expression.

      “Give her my regards,” he said quietly.

      She considered trying to question him again about what he knew, but it was pointless. Cole could keep a secret as well as anyone, and it was evident he intended to keep this one out of loyalty to her mother.

      “I will,” she said.

      She started across the parking lot, but he called out to her. “Cassie?”

      She turned back. “Yes?”

      He lifted his glass in a silent toast. “Thanks for the dance.”

      “Anytime,” she said.

      He grinned. “I’ll hold you to that. There will be a great country band at the picnic tomorrow, and I haven’t had a decent Texas two-step partner in years.”

      “You might still be saying that after tomorrow,” she retorted. “I haven’t been dancing in years.”

      And then, because she was far too tempted to go back and steal a kiss as she once would have done without a thought, she turned on her heel and strode away without another backward glance.

      * * *

      At home Cassie kicked off her shoes in the living room, then noted with relief that there was still a light on in her mother’s room. She padded into the kitchen and brewed two cups of tea, then carried them upstairs. In her bedroom Edna was reading her Bible as she had every night before bed for as long as Cassie could remember.

      “I made some tea,” she announced.

      Startled, her mother’s gaze shot up. Worry puckered her brow. “You’re home awfully early. Weren’t you having a good time seeing all your friends?”

      “Cole was there,” she said, as if that explained everything.

      “I see.” Her mother set aside her Bible and patted the edge of the bed. “Come, sit beside me.” She smiled. “I remember when you used to come in here after one of your dates and tell me everything you’d done.”

      “Almost everything,” Cassie corrected dryly as she set the teacups on the nightstand and sat beside her mother.

      “Some things a mother doesn’t need to know.”

      Cassie leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mother’s cheek. “I’m sorry I made things so difficult for you.”

      “You were testing the limits. It was natural enough. So, tell me, did you and Cole talk tonight?”

      “Some, but I don’t want to get into that right now.” She took her mother’s hand in her own, felt the calluses on the tips of her fingers put there by mending countless shirts, sewing on hundreds of buttons and hemming at least as many skirts, month after month, year after year. “I want to talk about you.”

      “Me?” Her mother withdrew her hand and looked away, her expression suddenly nervous. “Why would you want to talk about me?”

      “Because of that spell you had in town and because twice in the past few days people have said things, things that didn’t make any sense to me.”

      “About?”

      “You.” She studied her mother’s face. “Are you okay, Mom? Is there something going on that you haven’t told me?”

      A soft smile touched her mother’s lips. She raised her hand to tuck a wayward curl behind Cassie’s ear. “I’m glad you’re home for a visit.”

      The evasion only made her impatient. “Mom, tell me.”

      Her mother drew in a deep breath, then blurted out, “I have cancer.”

      There it was, that single, plainspoken word with the power to instill terror. Cassie was devastated. For a full five minutes after her mother said the words, Cassie simply stared at her in shock.

      “But you don’t look sick,” she whispered finally, her voice catching on a sob. “Except for that little spell yesterday afternoon, you’ve looked just fine since I got here.”

      “They tell me I’m going to look a whole lot worse before they’re through with me,” her mother said, managing to inject an unexpected note of wry humor into the solemn discussion. “And that spell was because of the heat, not the cancer.”

      Tears spilled down Cassie’s cheeks as she reached for the woman who’d had to endure so much by having a daughter who was always causing trouble.

      “I want to know everything the doctors said. When did you find out?”

      “I found the lump in my breast two weeks ago and had a needle biopsy that was positive. They wanted to operate right away, but you were coming home. I told them they’d just have to wait.”

      Cassie was appalled. “You haven’t even had the surgery yet?”

      “There will be time enough after you’ve gone back home.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not leaving you here to go through this alone.”

      “You’ve made a life for yourself,” her mother countered. “You can’t know how grateful I am that you and Jake are doing well. I won’t disrupt that.”

      “You don’t have a choice,” Cassie said decisively. “We will call the doctor first thing next week and schedule the surgery. You’ll need someone here when you’re going through treatment, too. Will you be having radiation? Chemotherapy?”

      “That will depend on what they find when they operate, but I have plenty of friends who will stand by me,” her mother insisted. “I’m sure that’s how Cole and Karen know. People are already rallying around with offers to drive me wherever I need to go. I don’t want you turning your life upside down on my account, especially not with Cole snooping around. Who knows what sort of trouble that man and his father might stir up?”

      Cassie’s gaze narrowed. She had never heard her mother say a harsh word about Cole. In fact, she had always treated him as if he were her own son. Of course, if she had known all along about Cole being Jake’s father, that would have colored her opinion of him.

      “Cole’s not important right now,” Cassie said fiercely. “The only thing that matters is getting you well.” Tears stung her eyes again. “Oh, Mom, you’re going to beat this. I know you are.”

      “Yes,” her mother said confidently, “I am. I intend to see my grandson grow into a fine man, one that both of us can be proud of.”

      “Then, no more arguments. Jake and I are staying right here with you. I’ll make a quick trip to get the rest of my things, and I’ll talk to Stella tomorrow about going back to work for her. If she can’t take me on, I’ll try the new restaurant.”

      “But how on earth can you keep Jake and Cole apart?” her mother asked worriedly. “I won’t be responsible for Cole figuring out that the boy is his. What if he decides he wants to be a part of Jake’s life? What if he asks for custody? Frank Davis will push him to, I know that much. The man is

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