8. Smelling of Spices #3
I shook my head. “I don’t mind at all. When I was twelve, my mom got cancer, and it spread fast. Then my dad met Casey when I was fifteen, and he married her when I was sixteen.
But he died just a year after, when he had a heart attack.
” I didn’t say it out loud, but I was also rather sure that his heart attack had stemmed at least somewhat from a broken heart.
Asher didn’t speak for a few minutes. His silence amplified the quiet rustling of the breeze through the trees and the birds above us and the sound the horses’ hooves made on the packed dirt of the trail.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” he finally said slowly, “why did he marry Casey? Not to offend, but… she doesn’t strike me as the warm, motherly type.”
I snorted. “She’s not. But when she wants to be, she can be fun and exciting and flirtatious. And I think my dad was always afraid of raising me alone.” I shook my head. “I can’t imagine what he would think now if he saw the way things are going.”
Asher paused. “How are they going?” he asked quietly.
I considered how to answer. Casey would be mortified if she knew what we were talking about or the way I was about to portray her to a client.
But then I sat a little taller. What I said to Asher wasn’t Casey’s business.
Casey wouldn’t face the truth if it hit her in the face.
I needed to tell someone, I realized, or I might just explode.
“Not well,” I finally said with a sigh. “Without my dad, the business has never been the same.” I paused.
“But even if it were just that, I think we’d manage to pull through just fine.
” Frustration hardened in my gut. “It’s all these conferences Casey insists on attending.
At least once a month, she’s putting up at some swanky hotel with a ticket price that’s thousands of dollars.
And all to rub shoulders with the elite of the industry while they go out to eat or enjoy something catered. ”
Asher frowned. “What does she get out of all these conferences?”
“That’s just the thing.” I huffed. “Besides making contacts that she’ll never use because we don’t need them, she gets her social time.
I told you it was how she and my dad met.
I think it’s her way of feeling important by being around important people.
Meanwhile, she ignores the actual numbers and hoards everyone’s paychecks so she can book another event weeks later.
” I shook my head. “Then she assigns me, Derrick, and Brianna more and more work to make up for the difference.”
“And I would guess that she gives most of that work to you specifically,” Asher said.
“She does,” I admitted. “And then everyone drives me crazy asking why I stay.” To my annoyance, as I said these words, the corners of my eyes began to prick.
The road had widened, so at this point, Asher moved his horse up to walk beside mine. I could sense him looking at me, so I did my best to blink away any signs of tears. I don’t know how well I did, though, because the look on his face when I dared glance at him again was one of profound sympathy.
“You do it for your parents,” he said softly.
My throat thick, I nodded. “And the horses,” I choked out.
He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’m guessing your stepsisters don’t help out much. Or your stepmother for that matter.”
I grimaced. “My stepsisters know how to care for horses. At least, Harper does. She was raised around them. And Jaelyne can be good with them too… when she focuses enough to remember what she’s doing from start to finish.
But she usually wanders off before half the job is done, and Harper whines until Casey lets her quit most of the time. And Casey likes to… oversee things.”
“And you’re worried what will happen to the horses if you’re not on top of things?” he asked.
I sighed and nodded. “I went to summer camp when I was seventeen. I’d been planning on going for over a year.
My dad was the one who booked my spot. And it was great.
But when I got back…” I swallowed hard. “Four of the horses were sick. One almost died. Apparently, there had been a heat wave while I was gone, and no one had thought to check on them to give them extra water. Not even Casey.” My fingers tightened around the reins as I remembered the horror and dismay I’d felt when I’d come home to find the animals in such a terrible state.
“We saved them, but I’ve never felt comfortable leaving them alone like that since. ”
Asher didn’t answer, only stared ahead of us in a thoughtful silence. I glanced at him several times, wondering if he was annoyed or angry, or if he might move Tomcat to another boarding facility after hearing such a story.
I hoped he wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did.
“I get it,” he finally said.
I stared at him in surprise. “You… you do?”
He nodded. “I wish the situation were different. And honestly, I’m hoping you find another way because this one isn’t good.” He turned and met my gaze, his deep brown eyes locking onto mine. “But I understand.”
A strange urge to cry hit me once again as I smiled at him. And all I could whisper was, “Thanks.”