Page 21 of The Bull Rider & the Wedding Planner

Eight

Cassie somehow gotthrough the next four days. The weddings were on Saturday, and she needed every spare minute to prepare. She worked like mad but took time off to take Presley to some fun Christmas events around town. She also tried to zone out whenever Presley started chattering about her prince cowboy Easton or begged her to see him. Thankfully she didn’t see him, except at the sledding event where he was on the huge sledding hill messing around with Walker and Marci. Different girls approached him. He kept his distance from the other women and from Cassie. Presley was distracted enough that she blessedly didn’t see him from their spot on the kiddie hill.

The gall of that man. Thinkingsheshould be the one who apologized. She’d stewed about that fateful evening often over the years and supposed it was possible he didn’t know she’d seen the photo of him kissing that redhead and cheating on her. Still, that made him even more of a liar, thinking he could hidehis indiscretions and accuse her of cheating because she’d danced with her boss and let him brush her lips with his. Now that she knew Baxter, she knew his intentions were all dishonorable and she didn’t mind that Easton had slugged him, but that didn’t make Easton’s cheating go away.

Thursday afternoon, she had a break and Presley needed to get out of the house. She decided it was time to pay her mother a visit. Then she’d take Presley to the hometown diner, Mary’s Café, and decompress with one of their famous cinnamon rolls.

They loaded into the car and drove to town. Presley was chattering about her cowboy prince. Cassie tuned it out, her hands clinging to the steering wheel, moist with perspiration. How would her mother react to seeing them? Cassie had called occasionally over the years and had gotten through the stilted conversations with her embittered mother, but she hadn’t been back to visit.

Pulling up to the rundown home, frustration filled her. She hated this house, the memories, the despair. The only good thing in her life after her dad left had been … Easton. She missed him, despite how angry she was at him.

Cassie shook her head and focused. She could do this. She was a strong, capable woman who took care of her daughter, paid for her own home, and succeeded at her business. Until she’d run from Baxter, she’d been lonely for the love and happiness only the off-limits Easton Coleville could give her, but for the most part she’d been content and busy.

Please help me, Lord, she asked in her mind.Please bless that Mom will be nice to Presley.

Climbing out of the car, she savored the bright, high winter sun and the crisp air. She’d missed Montana’s dry air and bigsky. She opened the back door. Presley had already undone her car seat.

“All right, love. We’re going to meet your grandma.”

Presley’s eyes clouded. She hadn’t seen her Grandpa and Grandma Churchill in years. After the divorce, they had chosen not to keep in contact. Presley most likely didn’t remember them. “I have a grandma?”

“Yes.” Cassie’s body trembled, and she prayed this wouldn’t be a horrific experience for Presley. If her mother was mean to Cassie it was to be expected, but please not to her daughter.

She set Presley on the ground, and they walked hand in hand up the crumbling walk. The porch overhang was sagging and the wooden steps rotted out. They carefully walked up the steps, the scents of mildew and decay overpowering most everything else. Cassie rapped on the door. She waited, her stomach tying itself in knots.

“She might be resting,” she told Presley, smiling down at her daughter and squeezing her hand. She knew her mother wouldn’t be out anywhere. Her sister Janey had arranged a couple years ago for a kind neighbor to bring her groceries and medicine in.

Knocking once more, she felt relief sweep through her. Her mother wasn’t going to answer. They’d tried. Now they could leave.

Turning Presley back toward the car, Cassie said, “I guess she’s not … awake.”

Presley tugged on her hand. “Mama. Try more.”

Cassie’s eyes widened and her stomach flipped over. Guilt stung. Presley was right; they couldn’t give up too quickly. She stepped forward and tried the door handle. It turned in her hand, so she pushed the door open. The hingessqueaked and it swung slowly. A waft of stale, rank air rushed over them. It smelled much worse than mildew and decay or even rotten garbage and unwashed toilets. It smelled like … something dead.

“Ooh, pee-yoo, Mama.” Presley plugged her nose.

Cassie actually smiled, though her entire body was tight and she had to swallow down bile. “Stinky, huh?”

“Worse than stinky.”

They waited there on the porch and Cassie called out, “Mom?”

No answer. Nothing moved in the stillness. Where was her mom? Had she actually left the house and a mouse had died and that was why it stunk so horribly?

“I need to go check if she’s all right,” she said aloud. “Plug your nose and wait just inside the door. Okay, love?”

“All rights, Mama. Ooh.” Presley gave a delicate all-over-body shudder. She was an adorable princess, that was for sure.

Cassie suddenly wished Easton was here with them. He’d make them laugh and sing something to get her mind off the stink and the upcoming visit with her mother. He’d hold Presley in the crook of that brawny arm and Cassie with his other arm around her waist. He’d gallantly go inside to check on her mother for her.

No. Easton was not her hero or her prince, and she was angry at him. She was an independent woman. She had this under control. She could check on her own mother without wishing for him.

Resolutely walking into the house with Presley bravely stomping by her side, and admittedly plugging her own nose, Cassie closed the door behind them and glanced around. There were dishes on the counter and blankets and pillows on thecouch. It was dusty and could use a good scrubbing but it wasn’t cluttered. She couldn’t see her mom anywhere.

“Okay, sweetie,” she said through her plugged nose. “You stay right here and I’ll hurry.”

“You sound funny, Mama,” Presley said, giggling.

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