Page 21 of Cassie
One breath at a time
Hoss
Wiping his fingers with a clean cloth, he stood and stared at the canvas sitting on an easel near the windows. Positioned to make the most of the late afternoon sunlight, the painting was angled so the wet pigment appeared to shimmer. He took a step backwards to better appreciate the artwork. Nearly a full body study, the painting showed a male figure lying in bed, covers draped low on his hips. A female rose from behind him, arm curved over his shoulder, head angled so she was looking down at him. Both faces were out of focus, soft lines revealing gender but little else. The feeling of care and protection he’d had in his heart as he worked shone through as emotion on the canvas.
Moving slowly, he set the rag aside and stood for another moment, satisfaction coiling through his belly. The lines of the image spoke to a sensuality of a couple who knew each other well, understood the needs of the partner in bed with them, satisfied every desire. In the painting, Cassie, because this surely was Cassie and himself, was watching over him, her posture both relaxed and comfortable. This was a view into the life of a long-established couple, still deep in love.
If only.
Today was the third day since their picnic and he hadn’t managed to connect with her except over a couple of brief late-night calls and a single early morning text from her to reschedule a dinner originally planned for tonight. He frowned at the thought and tossed the rag on a nearby worktable.
Cassie had declined his calls all day, each triggering a brief text explaining she was busy and would get back with him later. Clearly a canned response, she had to have her phone on Do Not Disturb, something he hadn’t expected. She worked from home, doing something technical—I should know what she does—and had mentioned she was nearly always available.Not today.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the screen. Nothing. Thumbing to his contacts, he tapped a button and said, “Call Tugboat.” A moment later the speaker echoed with the sounds of a busy line and he frowned. He tapped the button again and commanded, “Call the shop.”
“FWO in the Fort, what can I do ya for?” Hoss sighed as he recognized the member who answered, obviously not Tugboat.
“Hey, Dom. This is Hoss. You know where Tug is?”
“Hoss, man.” Deke’s brother, Domino was a steady member, having been patched in for years. “Tug ain’t here. He called me in to cover the desk, said he had to take care of some emergency.”
“What kind of emergency? Did he say?” It wasn’t like Tugboat to bail on responsibility, which meant whatever it was he’d ditched work for had to be serious. “Everything okay with Maggie?” Maggie was Tug’s old lady, mother of Bear, who’d been spending her time roaming back and forth between California and Indiana with Tugboat. “She okay?”
“Yeah, she’s in the shop harassing Bear, brother. Man’s no longer grinnin’, if you know what I mean.” Hoss tried to stifle his amused snort. “I dunno what Tug had going on. Like I said, he just told me he had to take care of something.”
“Deke there?” Hoss tipped his head back and closed his eyes, clenching his teeth to smother a yawn. He’d been in the studio since early morning and the stress of concentrated efforts painting combined with a restless night had him feeling every hour of his efforts.
“No, man. He went with Tug.”
Hoss’ chin snapped down and his eyes flew open, exhaustion falling away, the void flooded with sudden fear. “He went with him? Did they say anything? Anything at all?”
“Not really. Sorry, brother.”
Hoss stared at the painting, then glanced around the studio at the other studies of Cassie. Sketches were tacked up on every work surface, and finished drawings leaned against the wall. Tug and Deke had known more about Cassie than he had, and he remembered Deke’s rendition of sitting and watching Tug’s tutorial sessions. “Thanks.” He disconnected and tapped the button again, “Call Deke.”
“Yo.” Deke’s answer was immediate but muted, voice quiet as if he didn’t want to disturb someone nearby.
“Are you with Tugboat?” Noise in the background filtered through the speaker, the murmur of a man and woman’s voices. “You at Cassie’s?”
“Hoss.” Not directed to the phone, Deke had spoken to whoever was in the room with him. Hushed conversation, then Tugboat was on the phone.
Voice tight and tense, Tug told him, “She’s okay. Just had a scare.”
“With the bike?” Hoss was confused. Why would she say she couldn’t have dinner but go out riding? “She’s okay?”
“Yeah, brother. She’s okay.”
Cassie’s voice in the background grew louder, tone rising, tension and anxiety ringing through the sounds that made it to Hoss’ ear. He tensed, trying unsuccessfully to make out the words.
“It’s nothing to do with the bike, is it? Lemme talk to her.” It was quiet on the phone now, except for muffled footsteps. “Tug, give her the goddamned phone.”
“Can’t do that, brother. She’s not in a good place right now.” Wind sounds told him Tugboat had stepped outside, removing their conversation from wherever Cassie was.
Fuck this. “I’ll be there in five minutes, then.” Hoss moved towards the door with quick movements, trying hard not to let the anger raging in his blood show in his tone. “You stay where you are. I’m coming to you.”
“Brother.” Tugboat’s tone was cautionary and Hoss’ footsteps slowed. He listened intently, trying to listen for what Tug wasn’t saying. “She doesn’t want you to see her right now.” Notshe doesn’t want to see you. It sounded like she was more embarrassed. “Need you to understand this isn’t about you.”
“I know that. You think I don’t know that?” The door opened and Faith stared at him, eyes wide in shock. “Fuck.” He’d been yelling and his shouts had pulled her from whatever she’d been doing in her room to the studio. “I know that.” He moderated his tone, giving Faith a head shake and gestured for her to close the door. Only when it had snugged into place in the frame did he continue. “I know that, Tug. But I want to be there for her. It’s not all about the good times, brother. It’s about all the time. I know that, and you know I do. You understand, coming from where you did.” Tug’s first wife had died years ago, and the man had been alone for a long time, only connecting with Maggie around the time Hoss had found Hope. “It’s aboutallthe time.”
