Lone Star Courtship (10 page)

“Now that you mention it, no.”

“Then why would you think I would expect something as intimate as a kiss to be taken lightly?”

“Because it is to most men.”

“I'm not like most men, Casey. As you said, I have old-fashioned expectations and values. I don't give my affections easily. Nor do I admit my failings publicly, but now I've done both with you. Do you understand what I'm saying?” He lowered his voice to say the next softly. “I care.”

She took the hand he offered.

“And in a very surprising way, so do I,” she confessed.

His heart thumped at double time at her admission.

“Then let's just take this one issue at a time, shall we? I'm not here to judge who you are or interfere with your plans. I'm here to do a job for my company and my client and I cannot neglect my duties regard less of my personal feelings.”

“So you're saying you have
personal feelings?
”

“Blast, woman!”

Throwing all caution and propriety aside, Barrett scooped Casey up. She went willingly, eagerly wrapped her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through the back of his hair. He followed her lead. He had no chance to pull her to him before she lowered her face, pressed her lips to his and kissed him with an intensity he'd never before experienced.

Wow!

For long moments they explored with taste and touch, sharing the supremely intimate contact, exchanging light whispers of appreciation and murmurs of pleasure. She brushed the touch of butterfly kisses to his cheeks, eyelids, brow and jaw before capturing his mouth again.

His mind and his senses were filled with Casey. He wanted her in his arms. Forever. He fought the desire to proceed beyond the chaste. He was a man of some years and she was a grown woman but to go further would be wrong. For both of them and for many reasons. If their relationship progressed it would be under God's terms and in His time.

Oh, how Barrett hoped God would be in a hurry!

Casey raised her face and stared down into Barrett's incredible gaze. She'd never dared to dream of sharing a lifetime looking into eyes so filled with passion and longing. Could this be real? Could two people from such different worlds honestly feel anything lasting after such a short time? And yet, other than geography, were their lives actually so different?

Reluctantly she untangled herself from his arms and returned to her seat beside him.

“I apologize.”

“If it has anything to do with your incredible kisses, I shall not accept it.” The joke could not mask his voice, husky from emotion.

“I probably should, but it wouldn't be sincere. There are no regrets there.” She smiled and touched her fingertips to his solid jaw for emphasis. “I apologize for jumping to the conclusion that you were finding fault with me.”

“Recognizing growth opportunities and finding fault are vastly different. You have incredible skills, otherwise you wouldn't be in the position you're in today. And you also have unlimited potential that could be developed with assistance. I can do some research if you'd like.”

“No, thank you. But I do appreciate it and I'll take it under consideration. Maybe some assistance with international matters would be a smart idea.”

“Your decision, my dear.”

The uniformed captain who'd greeted them as they'd boarded approached their table.

“Mr. Westbrook?”

“That's correct.”

“I'm sorry to interrupt your evening, but this important message came by radio from the reservation office.”

He handed over a sealed envelope and stepped away. Barrett gave the note inside a quick glance and handed it to Casey.

“Your man Cooper is trying to reach you. Do you have your cell phone turned on?”

She pulled it from her purse and noted the signal was too low to receive calls. Cooper had to have tracked her down through the concierge at Barrett's hotel.

“It must be urgent or he wouldn't have gone to this kind of trouble. My phone won't work out here.” A dozen thoughts flashed into her mind at once, all of them critical, none of them good.

“If you'll come with me, we can connect you with your party.”

“Thank you, I would really appreciate it.” She turned to Barrett. “Would you mind?”

“Of course not. I'll wait here.”

In the wheelhouse she steeled herself for bad news.

“Cooper, what is it?” she demanded the moment he answered. Fear of a family crisis had her heart in her throat. What else could it be?

“I'm sorry to scare you like this, Miss Casey, but I knew you'd want time to prepare for tomorrow.”

“Prepare for what?”

“The city council is meeting at ten o'clock in the morning and we managed to get on the agenda.”

“But we haven't even had time for research. Isn't this sudden?”

“Yes, ma'am, it is. But the longer we wait, the bigger head of steam those crazies will build up against us. And the longer we're shut down, the more money we lose. If you still want to open in record time you've gotta jump on this like a chicken on a June bug.”

“You're right, of course.”

“I'll pick you up at seven so we can meet with the legal team your daddy's sending down from Houston. They'll be speaking for H & H at the hearing.”

“We're going to depend on
lawyers
tomorrow?”

“Unless you've got a better plan.”

Casey's heartbeat accelerated. The rush of blood to her head pounded in her temples. Needles of heat shot through her fingers and toes as dinner threatened to rise up in her throat. For fear she'd faint, she plopped down in the captain's chair, leaned her head in her hands and cried out from her spirit.

Help me, Father! For the first time in my life I have no plan at all.

S
he was sinking! Unable to touch the bottom far below. Her hands were leaden, useless. She cried out, but no sound pierced the blackness. The tiny point of light above was too distant to illuminate the silent surroundings. She was deep in the well.

Back in the pit of despair.

Casey bolted upright in the darkened room and tossed off the covers that bound her to the bed. Shuddering, she ran a hand through hair tangled and limp with perspiration. A fine layer of dampness covered her torso, and her light nightgown clung to her skin. Snapping on the reading lamp at her bedside, she slung her legs over the edge of the mattress and pressed her feet to the solid comfort of the floor.

“It's back,” she admitted out loud.

She'd lapsed into a restless sleep hoping she'd seen the worst this week had to offer. She'd been wrong. The episodes were back and now the dream was, too. It was identical to her college years and couldn't be ignored. But she'd managed to overcome the symptoms a dozen years ago and she would again. Savannah said all the classic signs of stress were there. Casey wouldn't waste her time in disagreement as she had back then. Instead, she'd focus on the power of prayer.

The strength and reassurance of the Word.

She twisted her hair and secured it with a clip, then exchanged her gown for a fresh robe. She padded quietly through the fully furnished condo, careful not to disturb her roommate. Savannah's presence was always a godsend, but tonight Casey needed God, Himself. She settled in the cozy living room and took her Bible into her lap. The companion study guide lay on the coffee table where she'd placed it shortly after moving in many weeks ago, untouched and without progress because she'd been too busy with her own concerns to spend time alone with God.

Forgive me, Abba Father. I need Your mighty presence. I need to feel the comfort of Your perfect will. Please come and meet with me through Your Word.

She flipped to the book of Proverbs and began to read in the sixteenth chapter.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes to contemplate the words of wisdom. Without exception, those who knew her best said she had control issues. She'd long since accepted that the judgment was both accurate and uncomplimentary. She'd only ever sought counsel from Guy on the subject, which had ended in a huge fight when he'd said she wanted to be CEO because she loved calling the shots, making all the decisions and not allowing anybody to give her guidance. When he'd stepped down and recommended her for his position, her brother had warned her against getting too wrapped up in climbing the corporate ladder. But instead of listening to the voice of experience she'd insisted on doing things her own way, hard-headed and proud of it.

Had she ever intentionally committed her work to the Lord? Asked Him to be the author and perfecter of her plans as well as her faith? Her mama said most folks used prayer as the last resort when it should be the first. It seemed Casey had also made that mistake, but it was never too late to correct it.

She slid to her knees and bowed her head before the Lord of all creation.

Father, forgive my stubborn nature. When You send me guidance, please give me eyes to recognize it. Open my mind and make it fertile ground where the seed of new ideas can grow. And when I encounter advice I'd just as soon not hear, I beg You to shut my big mouth. Teach me to use my ears to listen just in case the words are from You. And give me the intelligence to know when to forge ahead and when to cut my losses and leave well enough alone. This is all new territory for me, Lord. Go before me and show me the way. Your way.

I don't know what my plans are now, Lord, but I commit my efforts to You and ask You to work everything out for Your own end. Amen.

With a lighter heart, she rose and curled up on the sofa where she rested her head on the thick cushion and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

“Casey, honey, Cooper's at the door. He says he's here to pick you up.”

Savannah, in Tweety Bird pajamas, was perched on the edge of the coffee table. Her hand gripped Casey's wrist, still gently shaking as if uncertain the message was getting through.

“What time is it?” She shot upright and blinked at the light that streamed between the slats in the wooden shades.

“It's a little after seven. I thought you'd be sleeping in but he says you have to meet with some lawyers in a few minutes.”

“Oh, no! I didn't hear the alarm!”

She dashed to the bathroom to splash water on her face. The nubby pattern from the sofa cushion embossed her cheek.

“We have an audience with the city council this morning and my dad sent some legal support down from Houston. We're meeting with them to prepare for the hearing.”

“Why didn't you fill me in on this last night?”

“It was so late when Barrett dropped me off. You put in just as many hours as I do and I didn't have the heart to wake you.”

While Casey brushed her teeth and twisted her hair into a knot, her friend handed over the Warden's uniform as she was ready for each item. The end result lacked the polish that came from taking her time, but stepping into her new pair of lemony yellow Manolo Blahnik's gave her the boost she needed to face the ordeal ahead.

Casey admired her feet in the full-length mirror, enjoying what might be the last secure moment of the day.

“What would women do without designer shoes?”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe donate all that money to homeless shelters?” Savannah winked to soften the comment.

“Gee, thanks for going easy on me this morning.”

“You have the rest of the world for that. You have me for the truth.”

“Girl, I need you to be praying today that the truth will set us free. If the city decides to revoke our building permits even temporarily we could be in for a legal fight.”

“How can I help?”

“Look after Barrett when he shows up. Let him take over the conference room for the rest of the day, keep him fed and give him whatever he needs, but keep a close eye on him. The guy's so intuitive he scares me.”

“Well, you seem to have won him over, so he should be in your corner, right?”

“Don't make the mistake of thinking that even for a minute. He's here to do a job for his family and their client, not H & H. If he thinks this deal is going south, it's his responsibility to pull the plug on our future.”

“Honey, there will be other opportunities,” Savannah insisted.

“But there will never be another
first
opportunity. I won't settle for failure.” Casey's voice was firm.

“And you don't think you can reason with him?”

Casey couldn't help laughing at the statement.

“The man operates on pure reason. We'd have to appeal to his emotions and I get the distinct impression those are pretty well off-limits.” Her chest tightened as she said it, remembering his simple declaration…
I care.

“Don't confuse his culture with his emotions, Casey. English folks naturally project that whole stiff-upper-lip thing, but underneath they're softies just like the rest of us.”

“From your lips to God's ear.” Maybe there
was
hope.

She hugged her friend, grabbed her briefcase and dashed for the door.

The council chamber resembled a courtroom. It gave Casey the creeps to take her place at the speaker's table before the panel of local officials. The morning's briefing had been unnerving. Maybe it was time to consider lawyer-avoidance therapy, if there was such an animal. She knew she was blowing things out of proportion and it was impacting her work relationships, but it was so hard to forgive and forget the painful months she'd watched her family and their reputation suffer.

“As we discussed, Miss Hardy, this will probably go faster if you'll let me do the talking,” the man at her right murmured. His voice was annoyingly low and calm.

Based on their business cards, Gerald Hempstead was the senior of the two representatives from the Houston-based law firm and an expert in these matters. She pressed her lips together in an effort to exercise self-restraint and give the control to someone else. What if this was the guidance she'd been praying for in the wee hours of the morning? Didn't she owe it to God to keep her mouth shut, open her ears and render her mind fertile ground for new seed?

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you for attending today's open session of the Galveston City Council.” An elderly man in oversize horn-rims greeted the room. “It is always encouraging to have the participation of our citizens.”

“These folks aren't
our citizens,
” a sarcastic male voice called from several rows back. “All you have to do is check out those Harris County license tags to know they couldn't care less what happens on the island as long as it won't interfere with their sunbathing and Mardi Gras partying.”

“Nathan, you'll get your five minutes,” the mayor responded without so much as a glance up from her notepad.

Nathan?
Not only was the heckler known by name, the mayor didn't appear to be in the least disturbed by his outburst. Casey laced her fingers together in her lap. This couldn't bode well for their side.

Casey peeked over her left shoulder to the aisle just behind them, seeking out Cooper for a comforting sign. His bushy white eyebrows were drawn together, his mouth curved upside down in a line of disapproval. His lips were pressed tight, like he wanted to spit, and for once it was not related to the lump of tobacco that was perpetually tucked inside his jaw. Clearly, Cooper was worried.

“The sergeant at arms may continue,” the mayor instructed.

“Thank you.” He moved into a list of topics to be covered, finishing with the previous day's discovery.

“We have a good news/bad news issue to consider today and Her Honor has graciously agreed to move it to the top of the agenda. Since a recent find of Karankawan artifacts has temporarily stopped the building of Galveston's first Hearth and Home store, we've invited all interested parties to speak.”

“I got plenty to say, so how about if I go first?” Nathan's voice called.

The mayor removed her reading glasses, passed her hand over her eyes as if preparing for the worst and then nodded agreement. “After we've had a brief review of the issue, you may be the first to respond.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don't make me waste my time reminding you of council proceedings. You know the drill, Nate.”

Nate!
Not only was the mayor on a first-name basis with the guy, they seemed to be downright familiar.

“Thanks, sis.”

Casey and Hempstead locked eyes.

“Definitely an unexpected development, but nothing that can't be overcome,” the attorney whispered in assurance.

Once again she turned to Cooper, who shrugged and held his palms upward.

“Will the spokesperson for Hearth and Home please take the speaker's stand?”

Before he rose and stepped to the mike, Hempstead gave Casey's arm a reassuring pat. It had the reverse effect he'd intended. She wanted to slap him silly for the condescending act.

Oh, Lord, have Your way in this situation today and don't allow me to do or say anything I'll regret.

Casey had to grudgingly admit the corporate attorney did a decent albeit boring job of making introductions, stating the facts of Hearth and Home's commercial plan for the island and recapping the details of the artifact find.

“With all due respect to the Native American heritage of Galveston County, the materials uncovered yesterday were nothing of sufficient note to prevent my client from resuming the work schedule. We request permission to continue construction in accordance with all permits issued by the City of Galveston.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hempstead.” The mayor nodded.

There was no smile from the woman, no eye contact to give Casey even the least bit of encouragement. Was it possible for a few clay pots to throw the skids under a multimillion-dollar project?

“My turn, Your Honor?”

“Yeeeeees, Nate.”

The city official's tone as she acknowledged her brother was difficult to interpret. Was she tired of accommodating him or simply resigned to it? Casey's gut churned.

The man approached the podium. Where his sister was a striking, silver-haired woman, professional in every way, her brother was costumed as if headed for a historical reenactment. He was dressed head to toe in crudely fashioned animal skins, and carried a longbow in his clenched fist.

When he communicated, there was no mistaking his passion, though it was difficult to hold back a smile. Instead of addressing the room and making his case, the man began a lyrical chant. He danced in rhythm around the speaker's podium and raised his bow in defiance.