Do You Take This Rebel? Part 7

"Yes," her mother said confidently, "I am. I intend to see my grandson grow into a fine man, one that both of us can be proud of."

"Then, no more arguments. Jake and I are staying right here with you. I'll make a quick trip to get the rest of my things, and I'll talk to Stella tomorrow about going back to work for her. If she can't take me on, I'll try the new restaurant."

"But how on earth can you keep Jake and Cole apart?" her mother asked worriedly. "I won't be responsible for Cole figuring out that the boy is his. What if he decides he wants to be a part of Jake's life? What if he asks for custody? Frank Davis will push him to, I know that much. The man is desperate for an heir for that ranch of his. It grates on his nerves that Cole only gives it half his attention."

Ca.s.sie couldn't deny that staying was a risk, but weighed against the prospect of her mother battling cancer all alone, she had no choice. "Mom, I want to be here. I owe you. You were always there for me when I needed you, even when I didn't deserve it. You are not going to face this ordeal without your family standing beside you, and that's that."

Just that easily-just that heartbreakingly-the decision to stay was made, and this time it was irreversible. Only time would tell if she would be able to live with the consequences.

Chapter Six.

When Ca.s.sie finally left her mother's room, it was almost midnight. As she went to take their untouched, full teacups into the kitchen, she thought she noticed a movement on the front porch. She set the cups on a table in the foyer, slipped quietly up to the door, flipped on the overhead light and saw Cole sitting in the swing, idly setting it in motion. She wasn't nearly as surprised by his presence as she should have been, nor as dismayed.

She stepped outside, closing the door behind her. "What are you doing here?" she asked, aware that her voice was ragged and her eyes red rimmed from crying.

He turned to face her, his expression sympathetic. "I thought you might need a friendly shoulder."

"I could use one," she agreed. But his? How could she possibly turn to him? How could she let him back into her life at all?

He patted the swing. "Come on over here and tell me how your talk with your mom went."

At the moment she needed comfort more than she needed to maintain a safe emotional distance from this man who represented such a huge threat to her and her son. She sat beside him, careful to keep as much physical distance between them as the swing allowed. Cole was having none of that, though. He slid closer and draped his arm around her shoulders as he had dozens of times in the past.

She turned and met his gaze. "How did you know? I'm sure she didn't share it with you."

"It's a small town. Word gets around, especially about something like this. There have been prayers at church. Everyone wants to help out. How's she doing?"

"Better than I am," Ca.s.sie said honestly. "She thought she'd just postpone the surgery until after I was gone and I'd never have to know a thing. She didn't want me worrying. Well, she was right about one thing-I am worried. I'm scared silly, in fact."

Cole simply let her talk, his silence giving her permission to voice all of the fears she hadn't been able to express to her mother.

"I know all the statistics, but I always thought breast cancer was something that happened to other people, not to me, not to my mom. It's not just the surgery. These days they treat cancer aggressively-she's likely to have both radiation and chemo. She'll lose her hair, more than likely. She'll be exhausted. She doesn't have any kind of medical insurance. And she thought she could go through all of this alone, that she could manage. What does that say about our relations.h.i.+p? She's sick, really sick, and she didn't think she could count on me."

"I don't think it was that," Cole said. "Your mom's always had to be strong to face the adversities in her life. She's always had to rely on herself. She simply figured she'd deal with this the same way."

Ca.s.sie turned her tear-filled gaze on him. "But, Cole, she could die. die."

Cole's expression suddenly turned bleak. "Breast cancer survival rates are better these days than they used to be," he said stiffly.

Only then did she remember that Cole had lost his own mother to breast cancer years ago. She cursed herself for her insensitivity. How could she have forgotten that he'd been little more than a boy when he'd had to face what she was facing now? How much more terrifying it must have seemed to him. And his father, with all his power, hadn't been able to change the outcome. Nor had he ever gotten over the loss.

She touched a hand to his cheek. "I'm sorry. I should have thought. You shouldn't have to listen to me go on and on about this. It's bound to bring up a lot of very painful memories."

"Stop it," he said, clasping her hand in his. "I'm the one who came over here, remember? n.o.body understands better than I do what you're going through, but I'll say it again, the odds are in her favor. And stop worrying about the expense. Just put it out of your mind. I don't cared who she's seen already, we'll see to it that she has the best surgeon and the best oncologist around."

"We?" she echoed.

"Of course I'm going to help."

"But why would you do that?" she asked, genuinely bewildered by the offer.

"Because she's your mother," he said simply. "Besides, for a time she was the closest thing I had to a mother, too. It hurt to lose her, when I lost you. I don't want either of us to lose her forever."

"Oh, G.o.d," Ca.s.sie whispered as the panic rose inside her again. "We're not going to, are we?"

"Not if I can help it," Cole said with grim determination.

Ca.s.sie felt some of the tension leave her body. It was as good as a promise, and at one time she had trusted Cole's promises with total confidence.

There might be a million things left for them to work out where the past was concerned, but just for tonight she wanted to believe in him again. Because he was all that stood between her and despair.

He shouldn't have promised Ca.s.sie that her mother would live. Cole paced his office, portable phone in hand, as he waited for yet another so-called expert-men who were recommended by friends-to deliver an opinion about Edna Collins's chances of survival. He'd spent the day looking for guarantees, but so far none had been given.

He told himself he was doing it as a courtesy to a woman who'd once been kind to him, but he knew better. He was doing it for Ca.s.sie. He'd recognized that bleak expression on her face, that panic she hadn't been able to keep out of her eyes. He'd seen it reflected time and again in the mirror years ago.

While his father had ranted at the doctors and cursed G.o.d, it had been left to Cole to pray, to sit and hold his mother's increasingly frail hand as she slipped farther and farther away from them. No matter that Ca.s.sie was older than he'd been, no matter what he thought of her, he didn't want her to go through that, not if he could help it.

"Why are you mixed up in this?" his father asked, his gaze speculative. "Edna Collins won't take kindly to your interference."

"What would you know about Edna Collins? You always looked down on her."

"I did not. She's a fine woman. I just thought her daughter wasn't the right woman for you-not back then, anyway."

"And now?"

"Now I'm maintaining an open mind."

"Not likely," Cole muttered. "But whatever your agenda is, Dad, keep it to yourself. Ca.s.sie and I were over and done a long time ago, and you know precisely why that is. You did your damage, and it's too late to fix things."

He needed to convince his father of that, if only to keep him from meddling and ruining whatever chance Cole might have to patch things up. This time no one would have an opportunity to interfere.

"It's never too late as long as there's breath in your body," his father said fiercely, clearly undaunted by Cole's remark. "If there's a second chance for the two of you, don't be bullheaded and waste it."

Was there a second chance? Cole wasn't certain yet. A part of him wanted there to be. To be sure all of the old feelings-that quick slam of desire-were as powerful as they'd ever been, stronger, in fact, now that they were a man's, not a boy's.

Funny how at twenty he'd thought he was so mature, so grown-up. Yet he'd let himself be manipulated and controlled. He'd given up one thing he wanted for another, never asking if the price was too high. Only later, when he'd realized Ca.s.sie was gone for good, did he consider the cost.

And then it had been too late.

The Calamity Janes had spread a half dozen quilts across the gra.s.s. Each of them had brought a cooler filled with drinks, sandwiches and a variety of desserts. There was more than enough food for themselves and most of their cla.s.s, but none of them had eaten a bite.

"I can't believe it," Gina said. "Your mom was always such a skinny little thing. She looked as if a strong wind would blow her away, but she had this unmistakable strength."

"And that's exactly what's going to get her through this," Karen said, giving Ca.s.sie's hand a squeeze as she shot a warning glance at Gina. "No more talk of gloom and doom. I'm so glad you're going to stay to help out. I know how much that must mean to your mom."

"She fought me on it," Ca.s.sie admitted.

"And we all know why that was," Lauren chimed in. "Sweetie, I know you feel you need to be here, but let's think about this. What about Jake and Cole?"

"I'll just have to do whatever I can to keep them apart," Ca.s.sie said. It was going to be more easily said than done, given Cole's determination to help out with her mom's treatment in any way he could. She doubted that meant merely writing a check and steering clear of the house or whatever hospital she went to.

"You'd barely been in town for a day, and they almost ran into each other," Gina reminded her. "How can you help your mom if you're worried every second about Cole figuring out that Jake is his?"

"I think she should just tell Cole and get it over with," Karen said.

"Tell Cole what?" the very man in question inquired, making Ca.s.sie's heart thump wildly.

"Where did you come from?" she asked irritably. "You shouldn't sneak up on people when they're having private conversations."

"If you don't want anyone to overhear, then you shouldn't be having a private conversation in the middle of an event in a public park," he retorted mildly. He sat down beside her, deliberately crowding her, deliberately ignoring her scowl.

Her friends exchanged knowing looks, then one by one excused themselves to play badminton or horseshoes or baseball. Even Lauren, who'd never had an athletic bone in her body except when it came to horses, declared a sudden urge to join the women's baseball team being formed to challenge the men.

When they were all gone, Ca.s.sie looked Cole squarely in the eye. "Don't you want to play? I'm sure the men could use you."

"I'm where I want to be," he said, picking up an apple and taking a bite.

Ca.s.sie was suddenly struck by an image of Adam in the garden of Eden, tempted into sin by a seductive Eve. "Cole, you aren't imagining that you and I..." Her voice trailed off as color flooded her cheeks.

He grinned. "That we're going to have ourselves a fling for old-time's sake?"

"I wouldn't have put it like that, but yes."

"Would it be so terrible?"

"It would be a disaster," she said with feeling.

"Why? We're consenting adults now. It would be n.o.body's business but ours."

She knew he probably wasn't even serious, that he was deliberately baiting her, but she couldn't let it pa.s.s. "Do you actually think that would stop anyone from making it their business? You're the one who said it last night. This is still a small town. People love to talk. Just seeing us sitting here together now will raise eyebrows. It won't be five minutes before someone makes a call to your father to report the latest."

He seemed totally unconcerned. "Let them. My father doesn't run my life."

"Since when?"

"A lot's changed since the last time we were together," he said mildly. "We'll get into it one of these days."

"No, we won't. This is impossible."

"Nothing's impossible if you want it badly enough."

She frowned at him. "My mother's already been through enough. I won't have her embarra.s.sed by my actions ever again, especially not with everything else that's going on."

"So it's only because of your mother that you're turning me down?" he inquired, a glint of amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes.

"No, of course not," she snapped. "It's a bad idea all the way around."

"Then you don't find me the least bit attractive anymore?"

She knew she could never lie convincingly enough to tell him no, so she settled for saying, "It doesn't matter whether I do or I don't. Nothing Nothing is going to happen." is going to happen."

He shrugged. "If you say so." An infuriating, smug smile tugged at his lips.

"I say so," she said firmly.

"That's that, then." He tossed his apple toward a nearby trash can. It went in neatly. An instant later he was on his feet, his hand held out. "Come on. If we can't have s.e.x, we might as well play ball."

Ignoring the outrageous comment and his outstretched hand, Ca.s.sie stood up, but before she could take a single step, he snagged her wrist and held her still. His gaze locked with hers and sent her heartbeat tripping.

Before she could guess his intention, his mouth settled on hers, the touch as light as a b.u.t.terfly's, as devastating as ever. The world went spinning, but when she would have reached out to steady herself, he was already stepping away, apparently satisfied that she was completely off balance.

"Interesting," he commented, as if it had been nothing more than an experiment.

Still shaken, she stared at him. "What?"

"You taste exactly the way I remembered. I guess there are some things in life we can't forget, no matter how hard we try." That odd note of regret was back in his voice again.

"Try harder," she snapped, then stalked off to the sound of his laughter.

There was just one problem with that advice, she conceded as she joined the others on the ball field. There wasn't a s...o...b..ll's chance in h.e.l.l that she could forget it, either. Cole's kisses were as memorable now as they had been ten years ago. Hard and demanding or soft and sweet, they had always taken her by surprise, always sent her senses reeling. Time hadn't dulled that.

Okay, she admitted, she might not be able to forget. That didn't mean she couldn't steer clear of any more stolen kisses, minimize the risk, prevent disaster from striking again. It would just take some fancy footwork and plenty of polite excuses for never spending a single second with him alone.

"You okay?" Karen asked, studying her worriedly. "You look a little flushed."

"It's hot out here," she said with an unmistakable trace of defensiveness.

"It's cloudy and barely seventy," Karen pointed out.

"Do you always have to take everything so literally?" she grumbled.

Karen grinned. "Ah, this is about Cole, then. I should have known."

"Oh, go suck an egg."