Page 58 of An Unwitting Alliance
Cassie laughed. “Not in the least. Should I be?”
Discussing a woman with another woman was never the wisest choice, so he hastily shook his head. “Why do you not tell me about your day instead? How was sewing?” He relished being so near her and seeing her so relaxed in his company. It was wholly unexpected. He wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss her again and tell her how much he had missed her all day. But he was attempting to build her trust in him. Which meant no kissing and no talking of other women, even if they were just his friends.
Cassie leaned her head back on the worn fabric. “It was a nice change from teaching school, and Mama needed the distraction. Megan and I made matching reticules. We will be the envy of all of Airewell’s best society.” She paused and studied him. “But sewing is of no interest to you, so why do I suddenly feel as if you are evading my earlier question about your friend?”
“Because I am.”
“Why? Your friends cannot be a forbidden topic since I have heard a mention or two about them. Is Angel one of the children from your bedtime story?”
“She is indeed.” Softer music filled the room, signifying that Megs had conquered the piano. The two young boys lay on the floor and began arm wrestling. Tom chuckled. It reminded him of when he had done the same with Charley.
“Tom?”
He looked at Cassie. “My apologies, did you say something?”
“It’s all right. You seemed lost in thought.” Tom’s eyes went to the boys again, unsure of what to say. “But I do wonder,” she said carefully, “arewefriends, Tom?”
He swung his gaze back to her. What had prompted such a question? “Yes. At least, I hope we are.” The longer she studied him, the more he wished for more than friendship.
“I hope so too. We did have a tremulous beginning, but I think we’ve surpassed either of our expectations.”
“Thanks to your forgiveness,” he added.
“And your patience,” Cassie said. “But what sort of friends are we?”
Tom adopted his best innocent face and whispered hopefully, “Friends who kiss?”
Her eyes widened, and she hit his shoulder. “You are a relentless tease.” Her initial shock over his words faded, and he saw a glimmer of amusement. “I meant are we friends who speak only of the weather?”
“Have we ever spoken of the weather?”
She nudged his shoulder again. “You are missing the point. Friends—good friends—share things with each other. The good and the bad. There is a whole life of yours I know nothing about. I have heard of Fisher and Angel. And I know you’re an only child, which means you try hard to please your parents, but that is really all I know about your life in Brookeside.”
“One thing I like about my life in Brookeside is that I grew up there and I do not have to tell anybody anything. They already know it. I defy you to find a town with a better gossip system.”
“So if I return to Brookeside, I will learn all your secrets?”
She had hit on the exact thing he wanted, despite all his rationale otherwise. Not the secret part, but her returning with him to Brookeside. “There are more appealing aspects to the town.”
She gave him a small smile. “Since I do not have immediate plans to go there, I will have to trust you.”
“What did you say?” Tom asked, putting his hand to his chest in exaggerated astonishment. “Did you say you wouldtrust me?”
She did not say yes or no, but he could see it in her eyes.
“I knew it. I knew you would come around.” He jumped to his feet. “Everyone, can I have your attention?” The music stopped, as did the arm wrestling. “Let it be known that Miss Cassie Vail trusts me.”
They all gave him a funny look, but in truth they were becoming accustomed to his random outbursts. As soon as he sat back down, Megs started playing again.
Cassie shook her head. “You will do anything to get out of having a serious conversation.”
“My celebration was perfectly sincere.”
“Never mind. I did not realizeyoudo not trustme. I will not force you to share until you are comfortable.” Her tone was laced with frustration. She moved away from him to a different sofa and picked up the book of nursery rhymes.
At first he said nothing. Her comment rattled him, likely because it was the dashed truth. He wasn’t confiding in Cassie, or anyone really, with his thoughts, worries, or concerns. Hiding them had become second nature. Most of the time, even the Rebels were fooled. Cassie was searching for a deeper connection than what he was offering her. But could he expect her to share herself if he would not reciprocate?
He hesitantly slid to the edge of the sofa, close enough to her that when he perched on its edge, his knee touched hers. “I want to trust you, Cassie.”
