can be,” he said carefully. “I never know why it happens. But you do. Do you want to talk about why hearing a nickname turned you three shades of pale?”
“When I was a young child, my parents called me Cassie. We went to Colorado for a skiing holiday when I was six. They loved to ski and so did I. They taught me before I could ride a two-wheeler. One minute we were singing by the fire in our rented cabin, and the next there came this roar that I’ll never forget. I can still see my father jump up and run to the big window that faced the mountain. My mother was right on his heels. He turned back and opened his mouth to say something. But he never got it out. I remember that the windows were black as the night, and in a split second they turned white, then burst inward behind him. The next thing I knew I was being swept away into a world that was cold and white—then everything went black.”
“Avalanche?” Josh guessed, horrified for the child she’d been.
Cassidy nodded, biting her lip, her eyes full of tears. “I woke up a few times before the rescuers found me. I remember crying for my parents. Being cold. Then even the cold faded. I woke in the hospital with my grandfather sitting by my bedside. ‘Cassidy,’ he said, ‘you’re going to have to be very brave. Your parents are dead. We’re all the family each other has now. We have to stick together so we can carry on the Jamison name.’ Until that moment, I was just Cassie. After this, I was Cassidy Jamison, heir to Jamison Steel. And you know what? I don’t mind you calling me Cassie at all because I think I need to be her again.”
“That’s an awfully large burden to put on a child,” Joshua commented, then realized that he was holding her again, albeit loosely by her forearms. He let go quickly and stepped back, saying a quick prayer for strength. He was supposed to counsel her, not hug her. He was supposed to care about her, not come to care for her. It was a probably a fine balance, but he was sure there was an almost physical line—and one he could not cross. He didn’t have the right.
He cleared his throat. “So while you’ve been playing hermit up there in Ma’s prize guest room, you’ve been thinking,” he quipped, hoping to sound at ease. “That’s good. But dwelling on your problems too much is as bad as pretending they don’t exist. I have an idea. I visit an older woman who lives up the mountain. She’s a shut-in. Would you like to go along for a change of scenery? The view of the valley from her back porch is spectacular.”
Josh held his breath, waiting, hoping she’d agree. He could see that she needed a break. Maybe if she saw how difficult someone else’s life was, she’d forget to dwell on her own unsettled circumstances. And maybe exposure to a woman like Maude would fan the flames of the hunger for spiritual things that she’d given him a glimpse of that night outside Earl’s.
“Are you sure she wouldn’t mind a stranger showing up out of the blue?”
“Maude loves company. She just can’t get in to town much anymore.” Josh decided to take her question as an indication that she wanted to tag along. “You’ll see. She’ll love another person to talk to. Especially a woman.” He picked his watch up off a nearby log and checked the time. “I just need a little time to get washed up. Give me five minutes, and I’ll meet you at the truck.”
Josh left his ax where it was and rushed off before she could change her mind. He tried to put the anticipation that bubbled through him down to the thrill of victory, but he was very much afraid what he felt was excitement over the opportunity just to spend time with her.
Cassidy had already climbed inside the pickup by the time Josh returned. While they traveled, he told her several stories about Maude Herman that were steeped in local color, hoping to prevent the kind of intimacy he’d felt the last time he invited her to ride with him. He failed miserably.
When they arrived, Cassidy jumped out of the cab before he could get his door open, just as she had at Earl’s after they’d look over the Swenson house. But this time she looked ill at ease when he met her at the tailgate. Did she feel the same attraction to him that he felt for her?
No. That wasn’t possible. After all, what had he to offer compared to all the professional men she knew? And that was another reason he’d told Henry he didn’t want to come to care for her. He had absolutely nothing to offer her. It must be that she was still uncertain of Maude’s welcome, he told himself, though he thought uncertainty seemed very un-Cassidy-like.
“You’re sure about this?” she asked, her gray-blue eyes endearingly shy.
“Maude will love having you. Come on.” He took her arm and fought to ignore the electricity he felt flow from her.
“What exactly do you do when you visit her? And why is she a shut-in?” she asked, still a tentative note in her voice.
“I usually read to her and talk to her. She’s crippled with arthritis, has a bad heart that’s kept her from having joint replacements done, and is nearly blind. I also see to occasional repairs. In fact, she has a plumbing problem Ma promised I’d fix when she called on Maude yesterday. You two can get to know each other while I work.”
Josh directed Cassidy up the steps and across the porch. He knocked on the front door and heard Maude call from somewhere in the house, “Come on in.”
Josh opened the door and stopped halfway through to make sure Cassidy followed him. He was glad he had. She stood there with a shocked look on her face. “What?” he asked.
“She doesn’t have her door locked.”
“So?”
“It isn’t safe. Didn’t you say she lives up here all alone?”
“This isn’t the city. No one locks their doors out here.” He looked down at the knob in his hand. “I doubt this old lock even has a key anymore.”
“Well, what are you standing there jawin’ about, Joshua Daniels? Get on in here and stop lettin’ out all my heat!” Maude yelled from the parlor.
“I’m coming, Miss Maude. I even brought you a surprise.” He looked back at Cassie and grinned. “Now you’ve got to come in or she’ll never let me hear the end of it.”
Cassidy considered him seriously, her stormy-sky eyes narrowed in thought. He fought the urge to squirm. Then her lips tipped up in a wry smile.
“Your life seems to be ruled by women you act as if you’re afraid of,” she said, “but the truth is you just plain adore them.”
“She’s got your number,” Maude shouted. “You comin’ in or not, girl!”
“I’m coming, Miss Maude,” Cassie said, chuckling as she sauntered on by him like royalty consorting with the peasants. She turned her head and looked over her shoulder at him from the doorway of the parlor. Now her smile and eyes taunted him. “Are you coming, Joshua?”
Josh chuckled ruefully when Maude let out a raucous cackle. He just might regret the day he’d tried to take Cassidy Jamison under his wing because she was capable of turning his life on its quiet ear. In fact, he very much feared she already had.
Chapter Six
Cassidy turned from taunting Joshua to the wizened old woman ensconced in a small recliner. She had a cap of snowy white, wavy hair and wore a pair of thick frameless glasses. Her snap-front housecoat, while bearing the burden of many washes, was still the brightest, cheeriest thing in the room. She made an incongruous statement sitting in an unabashed piece of modern Americana while the rest of the furniture had seen more than half a century’s use.
Thin gingham curtains filtered the light, and old rag rugs dotted the wide planking of the floors. Against one wall sat a tattered old sofa covered with a patchwork quilt that was the same log cabin design as the one Joshua had lent her that first night. She wondered idly if Maude had taught Irma the pattern.
“You that new boarder at Irma’s?” Maude asked.
“I’ve rented a room from the Tallingers, yes.”
A challenging look entered