Chapter Seven
Cass
When his father issued yet another bedside summons on Sunday evening, Cass was prepared. His satchel was packed and he was moving to the boarding house after the conversation.
He braced himself when his father held out the slate to display the message scrawled there.
You will attend the shareholders meeting in my stead.
Cass shook his head. “Only if you intend to name me your successor as head of the board.”
He hadn’t returned to assume his father’s mantle of authority, but if he was being ordered to do so, he’d do it on his own terms.
His father’s brow creased in an angry frown. You haven’t prepared for that role.
“I’m good with numbers and I know how to stand my ground. I’m only going to carry out your wishes if I can lead the company in a way that aligns with my beliefs.”
His father’s hand moved so furiously the slate squeaked from the pressure.
You’re not going to use the company I’ve built to support the cause of those Irish laborers who don’t know their place.
“The workers I think we should be listening to aren’t just Irish. They’re from everywhere in the world. And we’re the ones who send them into mines and factories as if they’re replaceable.”
They are replaceable. They should be grateful for the work.
“No one - man, woman or child- should have to work more than eight hours a day.”
I’ve worked twelve hours a day my entire life.
Cass crossed his arms. “It’s not the same. Your labor has never been the kind that endangers your life or gives you black lung.”
You were always a radical. I blame it on the girl.
“She’s not a girl, she’s a woman. And I’ve always thought we should share our prosperity with those who’ve toiled to create it.”
I still blame it on her. She reaches above herself.
Cass’s laugh was bitter. “I’ve always been the one who was reaching. You’ll never understand that the world is changing, Father. And we must change with it or become extinct.”
It’s called survival of the fittest - and the Trentons have always met the challenge.
“By stepping on the backs of those less fortunate. I won’t be that kind of leader.”
I told your mother talking to you was useless.
“You should give everything to your son-in-law and leave me out of it.”
He said he prefers to remain the town’s prosecutor.
Of course he did. Because like Cass, Dio knew what taking up his father’s mantle would entail. And like Cass, he knew it was a trap.
“Well, Father, I’m all you’ve got then. Archie is somewhere in the wilderness and you’d never consider asking Perry because of her gender. She’d probably make the same demands I’m making.”
I won’t leave you a single penny.
“I’ve been making my own way for the last seven years - I don’t need your money or your blessing.”
He heard the sound of the slate cracking against the wall as he left the room. When his mother knocked on his door, he’d just hefted his satchel over his shoulder.
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t stay here, Mother.”
“You know how your father is - he’s a hard man, but he loves you.”
Cass shook his head in disagreement. “He’s never shown it. I’m not leaving Willow Creek, but I can’t sleep under the same roof.”
His mother leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. “Are you going to her boarding house?”
“She told me earlier this week that she has rooms available.”
“You’re certain that’s the right decision? That your history won’t get in the way?”
“No. Our history is full of regret, and this is nothing more than a business transaction. She made that patently obvious.”
“Cass, please don’t go. Your place is here with us - moving into Deirdre O’Shaughnessy’s boarding house is only going to wake sleeping dogs. Keep in mind that your father doesn’t mean half of the things he says.”
Cass shook his head. “But he means the other half.” He threw his bag over his shoulder again and stooped to kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you in church next Sunday.”
“You’re being impulsive!” She called after him.
***
The woman he’d spent the last seven years trying to forget opened the door just as he was raising his hand to knock a fourth time.
The long braid of her hair hung over her shoulder, little tendrils of it kissing her collarbone. His eyes strayed to those stray wisps of flame and he lost his voice.
“Eyes up here, Cass.”
He gulped. She’d said their relationship was a business one and that meant no ogling. No matter how adorable the bare toes peeking from beneath the hem of her robe were. “Is that room you offered still available?”
She tightened the knot on her robe and braced her hand on the doorframe. “I should tell you it isn’t. You’re lucky I was still awake and your banging didn’t rouse James and Mary Kate.”
“So you still have it and the offer’s still on the table?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m running a boarding house, not a poker game, Cass. Come on,” she said and swung open the door.
He hefted the bag more securely over his shoulder, closed the door, and followed her up the stairs.
“I have some rules for my tenants. I’ll give you the list tomorrow,” she said as she pulled a keyring from her pocket and unlocked the door at the top of the stairs.
Cass stepped past her. The room was sparse but clean, and smelled like lavender and rosemary.
“The linens on the bed are clean, and I’ll bring you up some water for the basin. The chamber pot’s under the bed and the one thing I ask is that you empty it in the outhouse in the morning.”
“I’ll just use the outhouse.”
“Suit yourself. Breakfast is served in the dining room at six, and it’s first come, first serve. If you’re late you’ll probably miss out. Both of your fellow boarders have prodigious appetites.”
“I’ll make sure I’m awake.”
She raised a brow. “Your habits have certainly changed. When we were growing up you used to tell me that you preferred an additional half hour in your bed to breakfast. The only thing that would rouse you was a bucket of cold water from the pump outside.”
“I still prefer the bed to breakfast, but only if there’s someone there with me. Eggs and bacon are a poor substitute, but I’ll take them.”
She frowned. “No overnight company. That’s one of the rules. If you can’t abide by it, you should go back to the house on Main Street.”
He lifted the end of her braid and rubbed the bristly mop tied off with a green ribbon. There was no mistaking her quick inhale. When his eyes met hers, he smirked. “Even if the company already lives here?”
Her cheeks flushed and she stepped away. “That will never happen again,” she brusquely informed him. “There’s a kerosene lamp on the mantel, and extra blankets in the chest at the foot of the bed. If you open the drawer of the bedside table you’ll find a Bible.”
“A Bible? Are you insinuating I need redemption, Wildflower?”
She huffed, clearly aggravated by him. “Oh there’s no insinuation. You need it.”
Once she’d shut the door behind her, Cass threw his bag on the floor and fell across the mattress.
When he bunched one of the pillows under his head, the smell of lavender and rosemary grew stronger.
If he closed his eyes, he could imagine how the scent would coat her skin as he touched her cheek and lifted her body to his.
His father’s obstinacy worried him. If the family’s assets weren’t passed to him or Archie, what would become of their mother? If he feigned obedience, would the act be convincing enough to persuade Sir High and Mighty Percival Trenton to hand control of the company over to his oldest son?