Cassidy's War opening chapters
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| Cassidy's War American Victorian Romance The Wild Rose Press |
Chapter One (continued)
When she turned, she didn't appear to be wearing a bustle, a fashion many of the women in New York
City now adopted. But then, Cassidy had never been a slave to fashion. He remembered how she swore
to never wear a hoopskirt and even balked about wearing a crinoline.
She stood frozen to the spot on the planking across the road, her rounded lips forming a circle.
"Pardon me, Miss Bessie Mae, ladies." George eased his way through the women. "There's someone I
must say hello to."
Bessie Mae's mouth gaped as her friends lifted handkerchiefs or gloved hands to their lips.
He ignored them and focused on the woman who'd been the love of his life since he was a lad. He'd
followed her older brother around like a lost puppy and teased her mercilessly at every opportunity.
Cassie, the only woman who'd kept his hopes up throughout the war, made his time in that hellish Rebel
prison camp bearable, his one dream to escape and return to her.
Her green-eyed gaze drifted up and down his form as he drew close. He didn't have to turn his head to
know Bessie Mae and her friends watched to see what would happen next.
"George...you look so...so..."
When she turned, she didn't appear to be wearing a bustle, a fashion many of the women in New York
City now adopted. But then, Cassidy had never been a slave to fashion. He remembered how she swore
to never wear a hoopskirt and even balked about wearing a crinoline.
She stood frozen to the spot on the planking across the road, her rounded lips forming a circle.
"Pardon me, Miss Bessie Mae, ladies." George eased his way through the women. "There's someone I
must say hello to."
Bessie Mae's mouth gaped as her friends lifted handkerchiefs or gloved hands to their lips.
He ignored them and focused on the woman who'd been the love of his life since he was a lad. He'd
followed her older brother around like a lost puppy and teased her mercilessly at every opportunity.
Cassie, the only woman who'd kept his hopes up throughout the war, made his time in that hellish Rebel
prison camp bearable, his one dream to escape and return to her.
Her green-eyed gaze drifted up and down his form as he drew close. He didn't have to turn his head to
know Bessie Mae and her friends watched to see what would happen next.
"George...you look so...so..."
"You look real good, too, Cassie." He longed to wrap his arms around her but didn't dare. Not only because the whole town was watching,
but knowing Cassie, she'd likely slap his face. Her all too familiar scent of lilac and her lush lips beckoned him nonetheless.
"What are you doing back in town? When your pa died, we couldn't locate you."
"I've been traveling these past five years. They weren't able to locate me...but when I finally got word, I thought..." He dropped his gaze.
"Of course. No matter what, you must show your respect."
"Cassie, I..." He poked his thumb over his shoulder. "...those ladies told me about your pa. I'm so sorry. He was like a father to me, too. You
know that."
She nodded, biting her lip. He leaned forward. If he was going to hug her, now was the time. No one would fault him for comforting the
woman he'd once planned to marry.
She allowed him to enclose her in his arms. Her warmth still enticed him after all the years apart. Her face rested against his coat, and he
sighed as her hands slid up his back. More fodder for the gossip mongers.
Abruptly, she yanked away, taking her softness and warmth with her. "George, I really have to go. I have an appointment with a patient."
"Patient?"
She nodded. "Quinn and I plan to take over Pa's practice...that is..."
He lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "You're a doctor now?"
"Well, sort of. I never attended formal medical school, although I do plan to. But Pa taught me everything he knew."
"Glad to hear you're doing what you've always wanted."
She sighed. "I don't know. When Quinn comes back, maybe..."
"What's wrong?" George asked.
"Well, it's really not your concern, being you don't live in town anymore."
"Cassie, if something's troubling you, I want to know."
"I really don't think it's a good idea. I can fight my own battles, as you well know."
Pain burned his chest, but he backed off. What rights did he have after abandoning her?
"Goodbye, George." She abruptly turned away.
****
Cassidy quickened her pace as she hurried home. Seeing George after so long had floored her. The sight of women fawning over him
reminded her of when they were young. She'd spurned his attentions, thinking him nothing but a handsome flirt. At least until he'd gone off
to war. After that everything changed.
But the emotions she'd buried deep inside after he'd left were still too close to the surface, threatening to send her racing back into his
arms. She'd once felt safe there, but not anymore. When George left, she wondered how she'd ever recover. And with her father's death still
so fresh, she had to take care of herself now...and not allow any man into her heart again.
Chapter Two
George gazed after Cassidy's retreating back. He couldn't blame her for shunning him. Hell, he was shocked she'd even spoken to him.
Most women who'd been abandoned days before their wedding would be holding a shotgun to his chest.
No, he wouldn't force himself back into her life. She was trying to build a medical practice, a dream she'd had after the war. For all he knew,
she'd married or had a beau.
George glanced around the town he used to call home. Not much had changed. The stable for visitors was exactly where he remembered.
The scent of horseflesh, leather, hay, and manure mixed to fuel his memories. He'd lived on the wrong side of town and rarely ventured
into mid-town. When he did, the merchants eyes him suspiciously.
He located the stable master and inquired about hiring a horse. He'd left his bags at the Golden Arms, the only hotel in this tiny town. For
the past six months, he had called New York home. Before that, he'd moved from place to place, trying to forget Cassidy, his horrid
childhood, and the war.
But at the Burkeville train station a memory of the day he'd gone off to training camp surfaced. After signing their enlistment papers, the
new soldiers met at the station to leave for a camp in upstate Pennsylvania. Cassidy's entire family had come to see off her brothers,
Quinn and Josh. No one saw him off. His father lay passed out drunk, and at that time, he hadn't seen or heard from any of his brothers for
a number of years.
That day, he'd tried to steal a goodbye kiss from Cassidy. The memory made him grin. She'd taken a swing at him. Although he had
ducked, he'd fallen flat on his back.
His father, the only member of his family left in town at the time, had railed when George joined the army. The old man drank himself into a
stupor every day and depended on George to work odd jobs to earn money and tend to the small field behind their shack. His father's sole
income derived from selling those crops at a local market, as well as surplus eggs from their chickens.
But George had longed for escape from his tarnished upbringing, and his best friend, Josh Stuart, had convinced him joining the Union
army would be exciting and glorious.
He shook his head. And now Josh lay six feet under in the National Cemetery in Gettysburg. Cut down in his prime. Just like many of the
men who had perished in that awful war. And sometimes when he thought how he'd treated Cassie, maybe he should have died too.
After saddling his mount, George took a leisurely trot through town to the outskirts leading to his father's house. Although he'd lied--out of
necessity--to Cassidy about his purpose in coming here, he still planned to see the spot where his father was interred.
The tidy streets and framed wood and brick homes spread out then completely disappeared as he rode through the countryside. When he
found the building, he dismounted and stared at the shack he'd called home before the war. The one-room wooden structure looked even
more ramshackle then he remembered. Of course, Pa would have completely neglected it. What else had he expected?
George strode around the side of the structure. The corn patch Pa used to make spare cash to feed his liquor habit and buy a bit of food
was cleared out, except for a mound of fresh dirt.
"Sorry, Pa," George intoned, "you gave me no choice but to leave."
When he'd proposed to Cassidy, he hadn't thought of the impact on his old man. Amos wanted George to take him in, but that was
impossible. He would never have imposed the burden of his father on a new wife.
George walked back around the dilapidated structure and opened the door. He had to see it one last time. The interior of the shack was in
worse shape than the outside. Stacks of dishes, pots, and cutlery lay on the table top and in wash pans, many still food-encrusted.
Roaches crawled over the table top, and a rat scurried from beneath. George recoiled. One oil lantern sat on the table, the only other
lighting fixtures seemed to be candles.
It's a wonder he didn't burn the place down years ago.
Memories of the years growing up in this place, feeling ostracized by the rest of the town, his mother's desertion, harsh punishments dealt
out by his pa when he wasn't passed out drunk and the time he spent recuperating here after Gettysburg, crowded in and threatened to
send him screaming out into the fresh air. Nothing but ghosts lived here now.
His only good memory...the care Cassidy had provided during his convalescence after he was wounded at Gettysburg. If not for her, he
likely wouldn't have survived to return to his regiment.
Pushing the hurtful memories from his mind, he left the shack and breathed in the fresh air. For now, he had a real purpose in life,
although he had to keep it from the town, and especially Cassie, for her protection as well as his.
****
Returning home, Cassidy pulled the pin from her hat and lifted it from her head, careful not to pull her bun out of place. She set the hat on
the mahogany entry table and draped her shawl over the hook by the door. Her mother strode from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her
apron.
Guilt niggled at her for lying to George, but she had to get away. His sudden appearance dredged up the hurt he'd caused her, even after
five years. A pain she'd hoped never to surface again.
"Since I seem to have no patients, as usual..." She eyed her mother. "I'll do some gardening after I change into my work dress."
"That'll be fine, Cassie. With just you, me, and Matt here, I've got the baking well under control."
Cassidy bit her lip. "Thought you should know..."
Her mother turned back, a frown on her face. "Know what?"
"I saw George in town today."
"George Masters?" The frown turned into a scowl. "What's he doing here?"
"Nothing to do with me, Ma. He's here to pay respects to his father."
"Well, about time one of Amos's no-account sons showed up. If the undertaker didn't bury him, he'd still be rotting in that shack he called a
home."
but knowing Cassie, she'd likely slap his face. Her all too familiar scent of lilac and her lush lips beckoned him nonetheless.
"What are you doing back in town? When your pa died, we couldn't locate you."
"I've been traveling these past five years. They weren't able to locate me...but when I finally got word, I thought..." He dropped his gaze.
"Of course. No matter what, you must show your respect."
"Cassie, I..." He poked his thumb over his shoulder. "...those ladies told me about your pa. I'm so sorry. He was like a father to me, too. You
know that."
She nodded, biting her lip. He leaned forward. If he was going to hug her, now was the time. No one would fault him for comforting the
woman he'd once planned to marry.
She allowed him to enclose her in his arms. Her warmth still enticed him after all the years apart. Her face rested against his coat, and he
sighed as her hands slid up his back. More fodder for the gossip mongers.
Abruptly, she yanked away, taking her softness and warmth with her. "George, I really have to go. I have an appointment with a patient."
"Patient?"
She nodded. "Quinn and I plan to take over Pa's practice...that is..."
He lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "You're a doctor now?"
"Well, sort of. I never attended formal medical school, although I do plan to. But Pa taught me everything he knew."
"Glad to hear you're doing what you've always wanted."
She sighed. "I don't know. When Quinn comes back, maybe..."
"What's wrong?" George asked.
"Well, it's really not your concern, being you don't live in town anymore."
"Cassie, if something's troubling you, I want to know."
"I really don't think it's a good idea. I can fight my own battles, as you well know."
Pain burned his chest, but he backed off. What rights did he have after abandoning her?
"Goodbye, George." She abruptly turned away.
****
Cassidy quickened her pace as she hurried home. Seeing George after so long had floored her. The sight of women fawning over him
reminded her of when they were young. She'd spurned his attentions, thinking him nothing but a handsome flirt. At least until he'd gone off
to war. After that everything changed.
But the emotions she'd buried deep inside after he'd left were still too close to the surface, threatening to send her racing back into his
arms. She'd once felt safe there, but not anymore. When George left, she wondered how she'd ever recover. And with her father's death still
so fresh, she had to take care of herself now...and not allow any man into her heart again.
Chapter Two
George gazed after Cassidy's retreating back. He couldn't blame her for shunning him. Hell, he was shocked she'd even spoken to him.
Most women who'd been abandoned days before their wedding would be holding a shotgun to his chest.
No, he wouldn't force himself back into her life. She was trying to build a medical practice, a dream she'd had after the war. For all he knew,
she'd married or had a beau.
George glanced around the town he used to call home. Not much had changed. The stable for visitors was exactly where he remembered.
The scent of horseflesh, leather, hay, and manure mixed to fuel his memories. He'd lived on the wrong side of town and rarely ventured
into mid-town. When he did, the merchants eyes him suspiciously.
He located the stable master and inquired about hiring a horse. He'd left his bags at the Golden Arms, the only hotel in this tiny town. For
the past six months, he had called New York home. Before that, he'd moved from place to place, trying to forget Cassidy, his horrid
childhood, and the war.
But at the Burkeville train station a memory of the day he'd gone off to training camp surfaced. After signing their enlistment papers, the
new soldiers met at the station to leave for a camp in upstate Pennsylvania. Cassidy's entire family had come to see off her brothers,
Quinn and Josh. No one saw him off. His father lay passed out drunk, and at that time, he hadn't seen or heard from any of his brothers for
a number of years.
That day, he'd tried to steal a goodbye kiss from Cassidy. The memory made him grin. She'd taken a swing at him. Although he had
ducked, he'd fallen flat on his back.
His father, the only member of his family left in town at the time, had railed when George joined the army. The old man drank himself into a
stupor every day and depended on George to work odd jobs to earn money and tend to the small field behind their shack. His father's sole
income derived from selling those crops at a local market, as well as surplus eggs from their chickens.
But George had longed for escape from his tarnished upbringing, and his best friend, Josh Stuart, had convinced him joining the Union
army would be exciting and glorious.
He shook his head. And now Josh lay six feet under in the National Cemetery in Gettysburg. Cut down in his prime. Just like many of the
men who had perished in that awful war. And sometimes when he thought how he'd treated Cassie, maybe he should have died too.
After saddling his mount, George took a leisurely trot through town to the outskirts leading to his father's house. Although he'd lied--out of
necessity--to Cassidy about his purpose in coming here, he still planned to see the spot where his father was interred.
The tidy streets and framed wood and brick homes spread out then completely disappeared as he rode through the countryside. When he
found the building, he dismounted and stared at the shack he'd called home before the war. The one-room wooden structure looked even
more ramshackle then he remembered. Of course, Pa would have completely neglected it. What else had he expected?
George strode around the side of the structure. The corn patch Pa used to make spare cash to feed his liquor habit and buy a bit of food
was cleared out, except for a mound of fresh dirt.
"Sorry, Pa," George intoned, "you gave me no choice but to leave."
When he'd proposed to Cassidy, he hadn't thought of the impact on his old man. Amos wanted George to take him in, but that was
impossible. He would never have imposed the burden of his father on a new wife.
George walked back around the dilapidated structure and opened the door. He had to see it one last time. The interior of the shack was in
worse shape than the outside. Stacks of dishes, pots, and cutlery lay on the table top and in wash pans, many still food-encrusted.
Roaches crawled over the table top, and a rat scurried from beneath. George recoiled. One oil lantern sat on the table, the only other
lighting fixtures seemed to be candles.
It's a wonder he didn't burn the place down years ago.
Memories of the years growing up in this place, feeling ostracized by the rest of the town, his mother's desertion, harsh punishments dealt
out by his pa when he wasn't passed out drunk and the time he spent recuperating here after Gettysburg, crowded in and threatened to
send him screaming out into the fresh air. Nothing but ghosts lived here now.
His only good memory...the care Cassidy had provided during his convalescence after he was wounded at Gettysburg. If not for her, he
likely wouldn't have survived to return to his regiment.
Pushing the hurtful memories from his mind, he left the shack and breathed in the fresh air. For now, he had a real purpose in life,
although he had to keep it from the town, and especially Cassie, for her protection as well as his.
****
Returning home, Cassidy pulled the pin from her hat and lifted it from her head, careful not to pull her bun out of place. She set the hat on
the mahogany entry table and draped her shawl over the hook by the door. Her mother strode from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her
apron.
Guilt niggled at her for lying to George, but she had to get away. His sudden appearance dredged up the hurt he'd caused her, even after
five years. A pain she'd hoped never to surface again.
"Since I seem to have no patients, as usual..." She eyed her mother. "I'll do some gardening after I change into my work dress."
"That'll be fine, Cassie. With just you, me, and Matt here, I've got the baking well under control."
Cassidy bit her lip. "Thought you should know..."
Her mother turned back, a frown on her face. "Know what?"
"I saw George in town today."
"George Masters?" The frown turned into a scowl. "What's he doing here?"
"Nothing to do with me, Ma. He's here to pay respects to his father."
"Well, about time one of Amos's no-account sons showed up. If the undertaker didn't bury him, he'd still be rotting in that shack he called a
home."
Cassidy's War available from The Wild Rose Press
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
All Romance Ebooks
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
All Romance Ebooks
Copyright 2012 by Susan Macatee
