Blossom Street Brides (Blossom Street #10)(25)

She trotted along beside him. “I had no idea Todd would do anything like this. I feel dreadful.”

“I said don’t mention it.”

“Why are you so angry … I didn’t do anything. I was the one embarrassed and mortified. If you want to be annoyed with anyone, it should be Todd, not me.”

Rooster stopped in his tracks and stared down hard at Lauren. “You used me.”

“I beg your pardon?” She looked stricken by his accusation.

“You used me to make Todd jealous. I don’t appreciate being used.”

“How can you say that?” she demanded.

“You mentioned me to Todd when you saw him earlier today, didn’t you?” he demanded.

“Well, yes, but only in passing. That had nothing to do with my breaking up with him. I’d already made my decision.”

“You asked me to dinner.”

“Yes, but—”

“You took me to your favorite restaurant. My guess is that you and Todd routinely went there.”

“I … yes, but—”

“Don’t worry about it, Lauren. I served my purpose. Mission accomplished.”

He left her then, rooted to the sidewalk, looking crestfallen and confused. Rooster hightailed it back to his hotel, determined to put her out of his mind once and for all.

Chapter Ten

Fair Isle awakens the beauty of the world in color as you paint with yarn.

—Sheila Joynes,

instructor, designer, and author of

I Can’t Believe I’m Fair Isle Knitting,

sheliajoynes on Ravelry

In the wee hours of Saturday morning, Lydia woke from a deep sleep at the sound of a piercing cry coming from Casey’s bedroom. She bolted upright and tossed aside the covers. Brad leaned up on one elbow as Lydia turned on the bedside lamp.

“What in the name of heaven is that?” he asked.

“Casey,” Lydia said, reaching for her robe.

“Mom? Dad?” Cody cried as he barged into the bedroom. “Something’s wrong with Casey.”

Lydia was already out of bed. She stuffed her arms into the sleeves of her robe and tucked her feet into her slippers before rushing into Casey’s bedroom. Flipping the light switch, Lydia saw that her daughter tossed her head back and forth, writhing as though in horrendous pain.

“Casey, Casey,” Lydia said, grabbing hold of her daughter. “Wake up, sweetheart. Wake up.”

Casey’s eyes flew open, and she released a harsh gasp. Her shoulders heaved as if she’d reached the end of a five-mile run and had pushed herself beyond her physical limits. As soon as she saw Lydia, the young teen started to cry, reached up to grab hold of her mother, and clung to her.

Wrapping Casey in her arms, Lydia sat on the edge of the mattress and gently rocked her daughter. “It was a dream, honey, just a dream.”

Casey buried her face in Lydia’s neck and silently wept. “I know … I know.”

Lydia continued to hold Casey close, rocking her for several moments and rubbing her hand up and down the teen’s slender spine. “You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you.”

Casey sobbed once more before she nodded.

After several minutes of sitting in this uncomfortable position, Lydia asked, “Are you okay now?”

Casey shook her head. “Don’t go.”

“I’m right here.” She brushed the tangled hair away from Casey’s face and looked into her eyes. “Do you want to talk about the dream?”

“No.” Her response was adamant.

“That’s okay; you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“Stay with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Lydia assured her, smoothing the back of Casey’s head.

Lydia heard footsteps in the hallway outside her daughter’s bedroom and looked up to find her husband framed in the open doorway. “Everything all right in here?” Brad asked.

“I think so,” Lydia whispered. “Casey wants me to stay with her awhile.”

Brad’s frown relayed his concern.

“Go back to bed,” Lydia told him. “I shouldn’t be long.”

“You sure she’s going to be okay?”

She nodded, and then, because she couldn’t see Casey’s clock, she asked, “What time is it, anyway?”

“A little after three,” her husband told her. This wasn’t the way to start their busy weekend.

Brad reluctantly returned to their bedroom.

“Can you lie down with me?” Casey asked with a sniffle.

“Sure.”

“Hold me, though.”

“I won’t let you go,” Lydia promised.

Lydia removed her slippers, and Casey scooted over in the narrow bed to make room for her. She would have taken off her robe, but Casey continued to cling to her as if she were the only solid thing in a world that had unexpectedly gone off kilter.

“You won’t un-adopt me, will you?”

The question made Lydia want to weep. “Casey, you should know by now that your father and I would never do such a thing. It hurts me that you would even ask.”

“I need to be sure.”

“You are part of our family now—our daughter—and nothing is going to change that.”