And now she was sitting in a part-time bed-and-breakfast, thinking about a country bumpkin preacher in jeans and flannel whom she found attractive. Really attractive.
Cassidy old girl, you’ve lost it!
She surveyed her surroundings again. She knew the difference between expensive antiques and just plain old aging furniture, and though Irma’s furniture would never sell at auction at Christie’s it was well cared for. She was sure the wallpaper was from an era gone by, but it still looked crisp and clean. Cassidy had a feeling that this was Irma Tallinger’s version of the presidential suite. And she suddenly felt honored to be staying there. Maybe Mountain View wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
The glass of water Joshua had brought her sloshed a little, reminding her she still hadn’t taken her ulcer medication or anything for her somewhat faded headache. After she swallowed the pills, she flopped back down on the bed, and her thoughts returned to the enigmatic son of the house. She soon drifted off to sleep, but the events of the day and those who had peopled it followed her into the night.
Chapter Three
Light streamed in the room, disturbing Cassidy’s deep dream-filled sleep. She opened her eyes, disoriented for a heartbeat. Then it all came back. The meeting. The drive. The car. She looked around the big ivory-and-lavender room. Joshua.
He’d brought her and her things up here. Then, after getting her a glass of water, he’d promised to call her for dinner. She fingered the quilt that had been tossed over her. Its navy, burgundy and forest-green print didn’t go with the elegant room. The carefully constructed log cabin quilt was just too masculine to fit in here. She brought it to her face and knew why she’d thought of Joshua almost immediately upon waking—why she’d been dreaming of him when she woke.
The quilt carried his scent.
She remembered it from those incredible seconds she’d spent in his arms when she’d stumbled on her way across the gravel drive from the church thrift shop to the Tallingers’ house. The extreme care she’d taken of her footing had been doomed to failure when her heel encountered a particularly large chunk of gravel. She’d tipped sideways, and only Joshua’s quickness had saved her.
Her face flamed anew. He’d seen her at her clumsiest. Had he also seen her sleeping at her most vulnerable? Had he covered her with his quilt? Taken off her shoes? Or had his mother come in? She wished she’d locked her door. She didn’t like feeling so defenseless with strangers.
She caught his scent on the quilt again and tossed it off her. She especially didn’t like the mixed feelings Joshua evoked in her. He was not the kind of man she’d ever been interested in. He was too masculine. Too primitive. He fit in these mountains—unlike her with her high-heeled shoes and power suits. He was completely unlike the men she’d dated occasionally over the years. Joshua was more like a diamond in the rough than those well-polished gems in her past.
But for all his masculinity and size, he was a gentle man if not a gentleman, she reminded herself. He had a kindness in his eyes that she was sure reached all the way to his core. Which meant that she hadn’t completely lost her mind with this attraction she felt for him.
She remembered the way he’d treated Irma when she’d entered the thrift shop with her unwieldy bundle. He’d seemed all gruff and impatient, while tenderness and love had flooded his gaze. In the few minutes she’d been with him, Cassidy had recognized that he was a special person. Maybe that was why she’d dreamed of him.
A knock at her door drew her from her thoughts, and as if those thoughts had beckoned him, Cassidy heard Joshua call to her through the door. She scrambled off the bed, straightening her blouse and skirt as she stumbled to the door. “Yes?” she asked as she opened it.
Joshua stood there. He looked the same. Big. Strikingly handsome. Disturbing. “Ma said to tell you breakfast should be in half an hour,” he told her.
“Please, tell Irma it’s kind of her to include me in your family breakfast but I usually only have coffee.”
“Maybe that’s why you have an ulcer.”
Cassidy sucked a quick breath. “How did you…”
Joshua looked instantly uncomfortable. “You keep rubbing your stomach and flinching. I figured an ulcer or close to it.” He frowned and shrugged carelessly, but there was something in his eyes. A vulnerability and uncertainty that surprised her and gave her pause. “Sorry,” he continued. “Sometimes I just say what I’m thinking when I shouldn’t.” He flashed her a self-deprecating grin.
“It’s okay. You’re right. It is an ulcer,” she told him, wanting to reassure him. Seeing someone so strong look so vulnerable made her feel vulnerable, too, for some reason. And Cassidy always liked to feel in control. Maybe because she’d had so little control of the decisions that had formed her life into what it had become.
“Then I’ll stick my neck out again. Maybe you should see someone about it.”
“Done. I just started on medication. I guess my job’s been getting to me. I’ll try the breakfast idea. You seem to know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t. Not really. It’s just that when I came up to wake you for dinner, you were asleep. Which means you also missed dinner. That can’t be good.”
“It was you who covered me?” she asked carefully, still not sure how she felt about his having been in her room while she was sleeping.
“No. When you didn’t answer your door, I got worried and called Ma. She didn’t want to wake you to get you under the covers but she said you looked cold. So I grabbed the quilt off my bed so she could cover you. Did you sleep okay?”
“Yes. I did,” she said, trying to ignore the memory of the disturbing dream she’d had about him. They’d been dancing—waltzing, really—in a barn. She’d been wearing a dress fit only for a remake of “Oklahoma.” She shook off the thought. “Well…um, thank you for your concern. Would you tell your mother I’ll be down in a few minutes?”
He nodded gravely and left.
Joshua stalked through the house and out the back door, letting the storm door flap shut with a satisfying bang behind him. He stood at the top of the steps, his thoughts spinning. It was clear to him that temptation had come to Mountain View, but he couldn’t give in to it. Even though temptation came in a very special package named Cassidy Jamison.
When the door squeaked slowly open behind him and he felt a reassuring hand settle on his back, he sank down on the wooden back steps.
“Did Ms. Jamison insult my cooking, son?” Irma asked as she settled next to him.
He grinned ruefully at his mother and shook his head, but the smile slipped into a frown. “She’ll be down for breakfast, but I think I’ll give it a skip.” What was wrong with him? It was a warm day for late November and the sun felt good on his face. He should be in a fine mood. But all he could think of was that dreamy look that had come into Cassidy’s eyes and the way it had affected him. He wanted to get to know her. And he couldn’t.
Irma arched a thin eyebrow. “Oh, so it’s you who’s insulting my cooking. Fine. I’ll give your breakfast to Bear. At least he appreciates my efforts.”
Joshua didn’t look at Irma but he couldn’t hold back a grin, either. “Bear would eat anything, and it isn’t your cooking I’m avoiding and you know it.”
“Then it’s the company. Don’t you like Cassidy?”
“I like her fine. But…”
“But?”
He shrugged. “She makes me…uncomfortable.”
“Did she do something that triggered a memory yesterday?”
Now he did look at Irma, understanding her concern.