Page 57 of Country Charm

It only seems like a few moments have passed, but a gentle hand caresses my bare shoulder and I look over to find Cass. Mussed hair, sleep marks on her left cheek, wearing my shirt, and seemingly nothing else.

“Mornin’ darlin’.” I kiss her fingertips on my shoulder.

“How long have you been up?” Her voice is raspy. It’s more than just from sleep, it’s from her hoarse cries throughout the night.

“Since about five. What time is it now?” Cassidy comesaround the arm of the chair and climbs into my lap. Sliding my hand up her leg I am disappointed to find that she is wearing underwear, but the girl could probably use a break after the night we had.

“A little after six. Do you want to go back to bed?” She yawns and stretches, to me it seems a bit like a cat stretching. In a lot of ways, Cassidy is like a cat. Independent, fierce, demanding, only wanting affection on her terms, but loving it when she gets it. Also, she is likely to bite when forced into a situation she does not like. The thought has me tossing out a light easy smile.

“I’m not tired, but I can bring you back to bed and lie with you.”

“Will you read to me?” She lays her head on my shoulder and sinks deeper. I hand Cassidy the book in my hand—Ready Player One—and cradle her in my arms carrying her back to bed.

“Have you read this before?” She asks flipping through the pages.

“No, it’s an interesting read. It’s a little out of my realm, but it’s appealing.” Cassidy chuckles and turns further into me.

Laying her in bed and then sliding in next to her, I get us situated and comfortable.

“Do you want me to start over?” I ask.

“No, I’ve read that book plenty of times. Just go from where you left off.” Her delicate hands slide the book into my harder hands. Opening up to the page I had left off, I start reading. Cassidy turns to me, laying her head on my chest and tossing a leg over mine, and falls back into her slumber.

Cass and I are walking through the flea market, hand in hand. It consists of two large, single-story warehouses that butt up next to each other. Inside, aisles are formed by the vendors’ stations. There are three main aisles in the building we’re in now, and Cass states that the other building has larger vendors so there are only two aisles.

She weaves through people with ease and confidence, speaking about her favorite vendors. When I was thinking of a market, I thought it would have held more traveling vendors. The majority of them seem to be settled, as though they have been there for some time. A few pop-ups are set up outside, but not many.

Cass shows me where she usually buys her soaps, lotions, honey, spices, and even some well-loved books. She’s proud and passionate about the little shops that she goes to.

“I don’t come here all the time, because I stock up pretty well when I do.” She hasn’t bought anything today, but I know it’s because her intention is to help me find something. As we finish in the first main building which consisted mostly of food and home goods, we exit and make our way to the second one.

“This is where we’ll likely find what you need.” She smiles up at me giving my hand a firm squeeze. What I would do to keep that smile on her face and keep her hand in mine.

“Sounds good.”

We enter the second building and it’s filled with furniture, trinket shops, and plants. People are walking around smiling and laughing, looking from afar and others are weaving in and closely inspecting merchandise.

“There’s a mix of everything all over the place in here, so there really isn’t a section just for outdoorstuff. So, we’ll have to walk around.” I didn’t mind listening to her talk and walk through each store in the other building, so this isn’t bad news to me.

“I don’t mind…”

“Cassidy? Cassidy!” I hear a feminine voice yell. Her green eyes light up and she looks away from me to search for who is calling her name. I assume it may be one of the girls because she seems slightly alarmed. Her hand loosens as she goes to turn away from me, but I keep hold of her. A knowing smirk comes across her face. She knows I don’t want to let go.

“Cassidy Walker, what a small world!” A tall thin woman slinks up to us. She’s wearing a revealing dress, with a type of heeled shoe, and a silk scarf around her neck. It draws attention to her large, and obviously fake, breasts that are spilling out of her dress. Overall, she seems overdressed to me.

Cassidy’s friend that came down for her wedding seemed to be done up, but still more down to earth. This woman’s pin-straight hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail and not a single strand is out of place.

Cassidy’s outfit today is a pair of ripped jeans with a thick leather belt, a white Fleetwood Mac shirt tucked in, and her standard Converse. Her hair is down and windblown dry after her shower before we left. To me, without the effort, not a strand seems out of place either. My gut suddenly turns, wondering what Cass’s crowd means to her, and how this will affect any kind of role I may have in her life.

“Monica, wow! How are you?” Cassidy turns to face the girl, and I keep hold, turning with her. Monica looks Cassidy up and down, but her eyes linger on our linked hands before giving me a quick butefficient scan.

“Girl, I am so good. Are you still at P&B?” She slides one hand down to her hip and it rests there.

“Yup, just grinding away Monday through Friday. I can’t remember where you went to, but are you happy?” Cassidy gives my hand a quick squeeze, seemingly almost like a silent apology for this conversation that popped up and interrupted our day. The way it’s moving I think we’ll be here for a while. I survey the area, while passively listening. Most of the talk is work-related, a little life talk, but not much.

Many people are walking hand in hand, much like Cassidy and me. It brings me back to my own market and watching people from behind my stand. Not too long ago, watching others walk hand in hand throughout the market had stirred something in me. I have never thought much about seeing other couples, never felt envious, or thought I needed to be in their shoes. Sure, it would be nice to have someone by your side, but there wasn’t a burning need. Not like Harrison’s. Somewhere along the line, my stance changed, as if something inside me was dormant.

“Oh, this is Hunter. He’s visiting from out of town. We’re looking for some things for his place.” Cassidy’s voice is like a knife, covered with butter. It cuts through my thoughts, and her explanation stings a little, but her tender tone soothes.

---