Page 46 of Ordered Home for the Holidays
“It’s very possible I broke her heart - and they say there’s no fury like that of a woman scorned. It’s in my best interest to avoid her instead of seeking her out.”
Perry shrugged. “She’s a mother now, and likely has more important things on her mind. Having children softens your edges.”
“It certainly does,” Dio murmured nearly inaudibly as he brushed a hand up her side.
Her mouth quirked. “What I’m trying to say, Cass, is that it might not be the dreadful reunion you think it will be. And ifyou and father still haven’t mended your fences, it might be a good idea to put some distance between you for the time being.”
Cass’s brow lowered and he set his jaw at a mulish angle. “I’ll not let him chase me away.”
“He wouldn’t be chasing you away. You’d be making the decision to find some measure of peace.”
“I’ll think about it,” he gruffly acquiesced.
“If your first encounter upset you to such an alarming degree, you should take a stroll.”
“Perhaps after I unpack my bags.”
He could feel their eyes on him as he strode toward the opposite wing of the house.
***
His childhood bedroom was just as he’d left it. Right down to the dog-eared copy of Tom Sawyer on the bedside table.
He’d escaped to those pages when his father had raged at his inattention and dismal marks. He’d imagined sailing the Mississippi on a flat bottomed boat, with nothing but a knapsack full of apples and dreams.
There was another book beneath Tom Sawyer.
When he picked it up he saw it was a collection of Shakespeare’s plays. When he flipped it open, the ribbon marked Gaius Cassius’s attempt to persuade Brutus to join his cause.The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Cassius had no doubt the book had been purposefully left there.
He threw it toward the mirror that hung above the washstand. The glass shattered, flying in all directions.
He flinched when he felt a stray fragment slice his cheek. The blood soon soaked the handkerchief he pulled from his pocket and he knew he’d need stitches. Now the stroll wasunavoidable. He pulled his hat over his ears and held the bloody rag to his cheek. The doctor’s office was only two blocks away - he’d drop in and ask for help.
Chapter Two
Deirdre
Deirdre pressed the pedal and said a prayer to Saint Monica for patience. Her youngest was hollering bloody murder at the top of her lungs -clearly in a battle of wills with her older brother. Deidre needed to finish sewing on the sleeve that had already thwarted her three times before she set down her work.
The boarders would be back soon, and she needed to get supper started.
When the stitching finally lined up she breathed a sigh of relief and bit off the thread. She’d just shut the door behind her when Mary Katherine’s plaintive wail echoed through the house. It was no easy feat, because Deirdre had scraped together every last coin she owned, plus the hush money the mine had paid her after Patrick’s death, to buy the four bedroom house.
She’d bought it with the specific intention of letting rooms. She hadn’t had the resources to do anything other than plant a row of sweet pea along the south side of the house.
The grassy expanse at the back was enough to keep the children occupied and she planned on planting some oak trees for shade next spring.
None of those plans would come to fruition, however, if Mary Kate and Jamie couldn’t stay out of mischief long enough for her to finish the fine work she’d taken on for extra cash.
When Deirdre rounded the corner into the kitchen it was to find both of them perched precariously on the backs of ladderback chairs.
Jamie was stretched on his tiptoes, his fingertips nearly touching the jar of biscuits she’d stowed on the top shelf.
Mary Kate was tugging on his shirt, red-faced and demanding at the top of her lungs that he get down.
Deirdre was on the brink of interrupting them when Jamie lost the battle with gravity.
