Do You Take This Rebel?

She had a vague recollection of that, but it couldn’t possibly be the same man. This Cole, her Cole, was a rancher, not a computer programmer. Or was he? She had no idea what he’d studied in college. Back then they’d been far too caught up in their hormones to spend a lot of time talking about Cole’s plans for the future.

“Are you sure, honey? Cole’s from a ranching family. His father owns the biggest spread in this county.”

“I know. I read all about it on the Internet. It is so awesome that you actually know him.” He turned to his grandmother. “Do you know him, too?”

She nodded, looking distraught.

“Will you introduce me?” Jake begged Cassie.

“No,” she said so sharply that Jake’s eyes filled with tears.

“Why not?” he asked, practically quivering with indignation.

Because she couldn’t risk it. If Cole was furious with her because of a letter she’d known nothing about, how would he react to the news that she’d kept his son from him? And then there was Frank Davis. How would he react to the news that a Davis heir had been kept from him?

“Because we’re not going to be here long enough,” she said, making up her mind that staying in Winding River was impossible. “Besides, if what you say is true, I’m sure he’s a very busy man. I doubt we’ll even bump into him again.”

The crestfallen look on Jake’s face cut straight through her. He asked for so little, and she was denying him something that was evidently very important to him.

“I’m sorry, Jake.”

“You’re not sorry,” he shouted, letting his ice cream cone tumble to the ground. “You’re not sorry at all.”

He took off at a run, blindly heading in the very same direction in which his father had gone only moments before. Dear God, what if Cole hadn’t left? What if he were in a store and chose that precise moment to exit? Jake would take matters into his own hands. He would force an introduction.

Cassie raced after Jake, commanding him to stop.

He was at the end of Main Street before his pace faltered. She caught up with him there. Breathless, she tilted his chin up to gaze at his tear-streaked face.

“I’m sorry, baby. I truly am.” She wrapped her arms around her son and let him sob out his unhappiness, regretting that she couldn’t grant his seemingly simple request. How much worse would his anger at her be if he ever discovered the truth—that she was not only keeping him from a hero, but from his own father?

“I don’t get it,” Jake whispered. “If you know him, why can’t I just meet him? It’s not like I’d pester him with a million questions.”

Cassie actually found herself grinning at that as she brushed the hair back from his forehead. “Oh, no? You always have a million questions.”

“But I wouldn’t ask them. I swear it.”

“Sweetie, if I could make it happen, I would.”

His expression turned mulish again. “You could. You just don’t want to. And you said we were gonna stay at Grandma’s a long time, so there’s plenty of time.”

Apparently, he hadn’t picked up on her earlier comment about leaving…or else he’d chosen to ignore it because it hadn’t suited him.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” she admitted slowly. “I think we should leave right after the reunion.” She forced a smile. “How about going to Cheyenne? Wouldn’t you like to live in a big city for a change, Jake? Just think about it. It’s the capital of the state, and in the summer there are Frontier Days. You’ve asked about that.”

Jake pushed away from her, that look of betrayal back in his eyes. “No. I don’t want to live in Cheyenne. I want to stay here. You promised. When you said goodbye to Earlene, you said you weren’t ever coming back except to pick up our things. That meant we were gonna stay here.”

“I didn’t promise. I said it was something we might consider. I’ve thought it over, and I think it’s a bad idea.”

“Don’t I get a say?”

“Not about this.”

“Well, I won’t go. You do whatever you want. Grandma will let me stay with her.”

Cassie knew better, but she let it pass. Once Jake calmed down, she would make him see how exciting it would be to move to Cheyenne, even though she dreaded the prospect herself.

“Come on. Let’s go find Grandma,” she said, taking his hand. He yanked it away, but he did come with her.

She could see her mother still waiting in front of Stella’s, leaning against the bumper of a pickup, her face pale except for too-bright patches of color in her cheeks. There was a sheen of perspiration on Edna’s brow. Cole’s offhand remarks flooded back to Cassie. She studied her mother.

“Mom, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s just a little hotter out here than I thought.”

Was it that or something more? Was her imagination running wild? After all, it was hot. She was perspiring herself. “Let’s go inside and get you something cold to drink,” Cassie suggested.

“No, I’d rather go home. If you’ll get the car…” Edna’s voice trailed off.

Cassie regarded her worriedly. The request was a totally uncharacteristic sign of weakness. “Of course I will. Where did you park?”

“I can show you,” Jake said.

“No, you stay right here with your grandmother in case she needs anything. I’ll find the car.”

“It’s just around the corner,” her mother said, handing her the keys.

Cassie ran all the way to the car. She hadn’t liked the way her mother looked. Worse, Edna Collins never admitted to an illness of any kind. She had borne everything from colds to appendicitis with stoic resolve during Cassie’s childhood. For her to ask Cassie to get the car, rather than coming along with her, was an incredible admission.

Cassie found the car parked in front of Dolly’s Hair Salon, whipped it out of the tight parking space and was back at Stella’s in less than five minutes. Her mother all but collapsed into the front seat.

“That air-conditioning sure feels good,” she said to Cassie. Then, as if determined to reassure her daughter, she added, “The heat just got to me for a minute. I promise that’s all it was.”

Cassie let the remark pass. She had no intention of discussing her mother’s health with Jake sitting in the back seat, tuned in to every word. The minute they were alone, though, she was determined to get some straight answers. And if she didn’t like them, she was going to call their longtime family physician and get the truth from him.

Unfortunately, her mother seemed to anticipate her intentions and scooted straight to her room, where she all but slammed the door in Cassie’s face.

“What on earth?” Cassie murmured, staring at the door.

She picked up the phone and called the doctor, only to be told he was away until the following week. Frustrated, she had barely hung up when the phone rang. She answered distractedly, then froze at the sound of Cole’s voice.

“Cassie?” he repeated when she remained silent.

“What?” she said finally.

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t think so.”