Melt Your Heart
I don't seem to be able to write regular length chapters anymore, so that means you either get no updates or you get a chapter that's 5K long. Sorry about that. Oh, and about the cliffhanger, too.
Lots of love & thanks to everyone who is still sticking with this fic, which is very close to being a year old - isn't that insane?! Let me know if you're still enjoying it and I'll be back with another wordy chunk soon! xx
Chapter 19: A Perfect Fall Day/A Perfect Day to Fall
Abigail paced the length of the kitchen, confused by what she was feeling. She could sense that things were going well at Sam's, but she also knew that Cassie was on her way back to Grey House.
She wasn't quite sure what to make of that.
Growing up, Abigail had never been one for female friendships, and that hadn't changed much in adulthood, with the exception of Stephanie. Perhaps losing her mother at such a young age made her feel out of her depths when it came to forming, and sustaining, relationships with other women.
She really didn't want to mess this up with Cassie, though. She hadn't realised how much she wanted and needed family around her until her cousin and the twins had arrived in Middleton.
To occupy her, Abigail picked up the kettle and crossed to the sink to fill it. Making tea seemed like something Cassie would do if she was in this position herself.
Ever since the Merriwick revelation, Abigail had felt like she was walking on eggshells where Cassie was concerned, and this was new territory for her. Abigail was no stranger to speaking her mind, whether her input or opinion had been sought or not, but she wanted this sisterly bond with Cassie to develop and strengthen. To her frustration, she found that her gifts and abilities were more of a hinderance than a help there.
Chewing on her thumbnail, she set the kettle on the stovetop and turned the burner on.
"Hey," she greeted softly, her back to the door as she reached up into the kitchen cupboard for a couple of mugs. "How did it go?"
When Abigail turned, their eyes met and they shared a weary smile.
"Guess who's going to the pumpkin festival on Sunday?"
Abigail's smile widened into a grin.
"He's really sweeping you off your feet, isn't he?" she said, keeping her tone gentle.
Tread carefully, she told herself.
"Little bit," Cassie agreed, sitting down at the kitchen table, while the kettle began to whistle softly in the background. "He's not going to let me ruin what we have. Not without a fight, anyway."
"Good," Abigail replied decisively, in a much more 'Abigail' tone. She sat down opposite Cassie. The tea could wait, for now. "I would think that I'd seriously underestimated him if he did."
"I'm going to have to tell the twins…something," she said, thinking out loud.
Rocky ground here, Abigail thought.
"Do you though?" she asked, going with her gut rather than relying on any insight her gifts might afford her.
Cassie stared at her, momentarily speechless. Because - and she was really going to have to start giving Abigail more credit – her cousin was right again, wasn't she?
James and Catherine were still so young, and they had adjusted to their new lives in Middleton with barely a hitch. They both loved their new school, cousin Abigail, and they already liked Sam. She was trying to make it all more complicated than it needed to be – which wasn't something she had ever noticed about herself until she had uprooted their lives and moved them here. But really, when she stopped to think about it, her life had changed immeasurably in the last year and a half. It was surely only natural that she was resisting any further changes.
Even when, in this case, the change had been overwhelming positive already.
For both her, and for Sam.
"I guess I don't," she said slowly, leaning back in the chair and feeling like a weight she had been carrying around for weeks had finally be lifted from her shoulders. She knew that most of that burden had been guilt at feeling so happy, so settled here already, when Jake hadn't really been gone that long.
He would want this for her though, wouldn't he? For all of them.
Cassie wrestled with that question while she watched Abigail go through the calming, almost ritualistic tea-making preparations. Jake would want the three of them to be happy, even if that meant that Cassie was moving on with another man.
Cassie decided that she'd done enough emotional deep-diving for one evening, and gratefully accepted the mug of tea that Abigail placed in front of her. She inhaled the familiar scent of camomile, and smiled.
"I'm going to take mine up to bed with me," she told her cousin, briefly resting her hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "Thank you."
Abigail's dark eyes widened a little. "For?"
Cassie smiled fondly, realising that no matter what gifts, abilities or powers they possessed as Merriwick descendants, it didn't mean they couldn't have their clueless moments. She'd certainly experienced a few of her own recently. But she couldn't say too much to Abigail now, because if she did, she was afraid she would cry.
"For everything," she replied simply, picking up her mug of tea and heading for the staircase.
Abigail toyed with the handle of her own mug, replaying their conversation in her head in their empty kitchen, and decided she would count this one as a success.
Sam hoped that the run might clear his head, and it nearly had. But even as his feet pounded the Middleton sidewalks, he couldn't help but remember his interaction with Cassie in his kitchen the previous evening. They had been so close to crossing a line – a major boundary – in their relationship and it had only been his remarkable self-control (he still wasn't sure where that had come from) and his deep well of respect for Cassie that had made him push her, and everything she was offering, away.
He really hoped that karma had been paying attention.
Of course now he knew that Cassie wanted him with the same intensity that he wanted her, he'd been able to think of nothing else. Hence the early morning run.
He had almost exercised (and exorcised) all of his pent up sexual frustration when he realised that Ryan Elliott was only several yards away. He really did not want to talk to the man right now, but it was too late to not stop and exchange pleasantries.
Damn small towns, Sam thought bitterly as he slowed his pace and jogged on the spot.
"Nice morning for it," Ryan observed in greeting, shading his eyes against the early morning sunlight.
Sam nodded, but couldn't remember the last time he had seen Ryan out running.
"I think I owe you an apology," Ryan continued, but Sam couldn't put his finger on exactly what facial expression the other man was going for. When Sam didn't say anything, just waited patiently for him to continue, Ryan sighed. "I didn't realise you were trying to impress Cassie Nightingale. If I'm honest, I'm surprised the two of you have managed to keep things quiet this long," he paused again, his lips rearranging into a sly smile that Sam wasn't sure he'd seen him wear before. "Unless you are trying to keep things hush-hush? She hasn't been a widow awfully long, has she?"
The same self-control that had allowed Sam to disentangle himself from Cassie's passionate embrace the previous evening kept him from punching the other man squarely in the face, but only just. He would have done it, too. But it would make him the bad guy, especially when Ryan was just looking out for Cassie's best interests.
Best interests, my ass. Sam thought savagely as he tried to arrange words into a sentence he wouldn't live to regret.
"I don't think that's any of your business, do you?" he finally answered, his tone as cool as the autumn air.
Ryan threw his arms up in an exaggerated shrug.
"I'm just looking out for our new neighbour, Sam, I'd hate for anyone to take advantage."
Sam almost, almost, grinned at that. It would have been a humourless grin, but a grin all the same. Oh, if only Ryan had been a fly on the wall in his kitchen last night…
"Well, I'm sure Cassie will appreciate that," his voice dripped with sarcasm. "It's very neighbourly, of you."
It was petty, he knew it was. But damn it, if it didn't make him feel better as he picked up his speed again and left the other man in the dust.
Cassie, on the other hand, didn't have a lot of time to think about what had (or hadn't) happened between her and Sam. For the rest of the week most of her attention was absorbed by the twins. On the day of her ultrasound, when she and Jake had found that she was pregnant with twins, not just one baby as they had expected, the furthest thing from her mind had been that, six years later, she would have to wrangle not one, but two, stubborn children into doing their homework.
She was just grateful that the math was still at a level that she could help with.
Martha had stepped up the frequency of the Halloween committee meetings, so Cassie was asleep before her head hit the pillow most nights.
She had seen Sam twice since he had sent her home, and one of those times was in passing at The Bistro.
At least they had Sunday.
Now that she'd faced her fears about the day, and had stopped making it into something it wasn't, she was looking forward to it.
She couldn't put her finger on how, or when, but things had changed.
Trying to keep a romance quiet in a small town was nigh on impossible anyway, but when you were the mysterious newcomer, well, there wasn't a chance in hell they could keep things secret. And she was beginning to realise she was okay with that, more than okay in fact.
Cassie was more suspicious that it had taken so long for people to cotton on, and marked that down as another item on the very long list of things she needed to quiz Abigail about. It had currently displaced 'why did they barely have more than one guest a week at Grey House?' from the top of said list.
Frankly, for the moment, Cassie had too much on her mind to give these thoughts the attention they required. She wasn't quite sure she was ready for Abigail's response anyway.
Sam didn't like that he had stopped being a casual guest at Grey House, even though he knew it was his own fault. He wanted to give Cassie space, didn't want to monopolise her time, but he also missed just sitting in the kitchen and sharing a beer, or a takeout pizza, with Abigail.
Settling for an attempt at compromise, Sam decided to pick up a bottle of wine on his way home from the hospital. Hopefully he could persuade both of the women to sit and have a drink with him.
Being more of a beer or whiskey drinker himself, Sam was somewhat overwhelmed by the choices in the alcohol and spirits aisle. He knew he could choose the same vintage Stephanie had picked out for him for his dinner date with Cassie, but this was going to be a light, friendly evening.
He was holding a bottle by the neck and sceptically scrutinising the description when he realised he wasn't alone in the aisle.
"Planning another romantic meal?" asked a familiar voice.
Sam hissed out a curse, nearly losing his precarious grip on the bottle of wine. Why was this man everywhere?
Maybe he should have given into his impulses and punched him when he had the chance.
Except that was probably exactly what Ryan wanted, so he could go running to Cassie and ask her to patch him up. And kiss it better.
God, he thought, James and Catherine were both more mature than that. And they were six.
Sam tried for a smile. They had to keep things civil, if only because they lived in the same postage-stamp sized town and because he didn't want to upset Cassie...didn't want her to get the wrong idea about him.
"No, not this time," he said, keeping his voice even.
"Well, if you ever need any advice, one of my regular clients owns a winery..."
Of course they did.
By some miracle, Sam managed not to roll his eyes as he added the bottle to his shopping basket. At this point, he'd have settled for a bottle of malt vinegar.
Or poison.
"Thank you," he replied blandly. "Have a good evening."
Walking away, and wondering why he'd sounded like a very polite robot, Sam tried to decide whether this was something he should mention to Cassie or not.
They had made great strides in their relationship in the short time she had lived in Middleton, going from acquaintances who consistently rubbed each other the wrong way to, well, almost lovers.
But he was still afraid of putting his foot in his mouth and ruining everything they had so carefully built.
This was why he'd stopped dating seriously after his marriage failed.
It had just never seemed worth taking that risk again. Until now.
God, he hoped she'd be pleased to see him.
Sam's evening improved drastically after his encounter with Ryan, and the wine turned out to be a hit with all three of them. He would still have preferred beer, or something stronger, but there was something very pleasant indeed about sipping a glass of wine and talking with two women he cared about.
If he didn't bring up Ryan, it was because he didn't want to ruin the atmosphere by inviting an elephant to join them.
He didn't see Ryan as a threat, didn't have any concerns that Cassie would suddenly realise she'd picked the wrong Middleton man, but he didn't entirely trust him either.
He really hoped he was doing the man a disservice, but he feared that Ryan would try and sabotage what was starting to blossom between him and a Cassie if the opportunity presented itself.
In his opinion, Sunday couldn't get here quick enough. He couldn't wait for it to be just the two of them (and the twins, of course) away from Middleton and the watchful eye of their community.
Although, to be honest, he had expected the rumour mills to have already been running...but so far he and Cassie had been able to keep things mostly under the radar.
Save for Ryan, but he had his own motivations.
"I'll walk you out," Cassie offered, when the bottle of wine was empty.
Abigail smiled as she carried their glasses over to the sink but, as much as she'd love to eavesdrop, she left them to their goodbyes.
There was a distinct October chill in the air, but when Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body to his, all Sam could feel was the warmth radiating from her.
He kissed her gently, sweetly, his hands at her waist. He didn't want to let her go, but he had to work tomorrow and needed to sleep off those two glasses of wine.
"Don't forget, I'll be waiting outside for you at nine on Sunday," he reminded her as they broke apart, but still held onto each other's hands.
"How could I forget?" she said, smiling shyly back at him.
And then she remembered.
He didn't know – couldn't know – how much she was looking forward to Sunday.
Because she hadn't told him.
"I can't wait," she told him with a genuine, honest smile. "The twins are really excited, too."
"Oh, yeah?" he asked, touched because he knew Cassie would do anything for her children (including moving across the country to live with a cousin she had never met before) and she was showing him that she trusted him with them.
"When they've run you ragged, remember it was you who suggested it though," she replied with a grin, squeezing his fingers.
"I'm looking forward to it," he replied, and he was. Every single second of it.
"Me too," she whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Goodnight."
As he walked back home, Ryan Elliott was the furthest thing from Sam's mind.
Stephanie wasn't her usual chipper, bubbly self when Sam stopped into The Bistro early on Sunday morning.
"I wouldn't normally even be awake at this time on a Sunday morning," she told him pointedly, setting the hamper down on the counter.
Sam grinned sheepishly as he took out his credit card. That seemed to cheer her up a little.
"I know, but have I told you how much I appreciate it?" he wheedled, with what he hoped was a winning smile.
Stephanie narrowed her eyes. "Yes," she replied. "But it wouldn't hurt to hear it again."
Sam's grin widened as he told her she was greatest cook in the tri-state area, and that Middleton was lucky to have her. Wasn't it nice that this woman who had doggedly tried to date him not so many years ago, had now helped him to make not one but two dates with another woman so perfect?
"If she's not in love with you already," Stephanie said as Sam picked up the hamper, which was heavier than it looked. "The contents of that hamper will definitely help."
"Thanks, Stephanie," he smiled, then winced a little as the hamper bumped his shin. It felt like there was enough for an army in there.
As he left The Bistro, he looked at his watch: time to go and pick up Cassie and the kids. He loaded the hamper into the trunk of his SUV, welcoming the jolt of anticipation as if it was a shot of the finest Columbian coffee.
He felt like a teenager about to go on his very first date.
Cassie was a little frazzled, at least by her standards, by the time nine o'clock came around. She had been up for hours, but it still felt like there wasn't enough time.
Sometimes she keenly felt how difficult it was to raise two small children all by herself.
But she wouldn't be alone today. She'd have Sam.
And God, if that didn't thrill and terrify her.
He seemed to be genuinely enthusiastic about spending the day with her children. And she knew him well enough, had spent enough time with him, to know that it was genuine and he wasn't building a relationship with them on the false pretence of getting closer to her.
They both knew that never would have worked.
She realised that in the time she had spent with Ryan, albeit quite brief, he had shown a serious interest in her as a woman but had not asked her a single thing about the twins, and had managed to divert the conversation if she did bring them up. She wondered if Ryan even knew her children's names, and wouldn't be surprised to find out that he did not.
When she heard the friendly blast of Sam's car horn outside, she had managed to wrestle both of the children into their coats, hats and scarves (despite the warning signs of a temper tantrum from Catherine, who simmered down when offered the ultimatum of behaving herself or staying home with cousin Abigail, who was still asleep).
Sam climbed out of the driver's seat to help Cassie get the twins situated in the back.
She looked over at him, bent over James as he struggled with the seatbelt and felt a rush of...something she was afraid to name.
It had sent her flying back to life with Jake, and she wondered if that was a another reason why she had been initially hesitant about accepting Sam's invitation.
It seemed too much like the kinds of days out she'd enjoyed with her husband and children - days she'd thought she would never have again.
By the time she took her own place in the passenger seat, she was exhausted. But Sam's hand was warm and reassuring on her knee before he put the car in drive.
"Are we ready to go look at some pumpkins?" he asked the smaller passengers.
"Yes!" they chorused from the back seat.
Cassie caught Sam's eye and they shared a smile.
Sam was new at this, but, from the outside, you wouldn't have been able to tell. In fact, anyone casually observing the four of them on that sunny Sunday morning would assume they were a family. They certainly looked and behaved like one.
Cassie watched as Sam interacted with her children. It was hard to reconcile him with the man who had been so cantankerous when he had discovered that two children would be moving in next door to him and effectively shattering the peace he claimed to love so much.
Her lips curved in a smile as she realised they had melted his heart, and Catherine was not far away from wrapping him entirely around her little finger.
Her daughter had tried to do exactly the same to Jake.
"This is really nice," Cassie smiled, letting Sam slip his hand around hers.
"I'm not going to say 'I told you so', but..." he said, grinning down at her and twining their fingers.
"I guess I thought this would be the last thing you'd want to do after a long day at the hospital," Cassie began, but Sam was already shaking his head.
"This is just what I needed," he replied.
And she was just what he needed, too.
His life had been about just work for far too long, and he was starting to have niggling doubts about his career path. He wasn't getting any younger and the constantly changing shifts played havoc with his sleep patterns. It hadn't fazed him in his twenties and thirties, but now he was approaching his mid-forties, he was starting to feel it more.
He just didn't want to bury himself in the job anymore.
And that scared the shit out of him.
Being a doctor – okay, a world-renowned, board certified, medical genius – had been his identity for so long, and it had been where he'd buried himself when his marriage had broken down. Even when he decided to trade the frenetic emergency rooms of New York hospitals for the quieter, small town kind of life, it was still the very core of who he was. How often was he introduced to someone as 'our resident doctor'?
It was just who he was.
Was being the operative word.
Because maybe that wasn't all he wanted to be anymore.
Even if things didn't work out with Cassie long term, did he really want to spend his whole life working and then, one day, wake up and find it was time to retire?
He couldn't ever see himself giving up practicing medicine, though. It was just part of who he was, and he wasn't sure who he would be without it. That didn't mean he had to be a surgeon for the rest of his career…
One step at a time, Radford.
One step at a time.
He was going to enjoy this perfect fall day with this woman who had changed everything, and her two irrepressible children.
The rest would work itself out.
At noon, they sat down to a picnic lunch. Sam had asked Stephanie to prepare something that would be suitable for two small children, and she had really outdone herself. He must remember to thank her, he thought, marvelling again at the way that, despite their own ill-fated attempt to date years ago, she had provided a lovely, thoughtful meal that was perfect for the occasion.
"This food is wonderful, Sam," Cassie commented, picking up a carrot stick and crunching into it.
"I can't take credit it for it," he admitted, handing over wrapped parcels of crustless sandwiches cut into the shape of pumpkins to the twins. "It's all Stephanie."
Catherine was turning her nose up at the hummus her mom was dipping a second stick of carrot into.
"What's that?" she demanded, her sandwiches temporarily forgotten.
"Do you want to try some?" Sam asked her, scooping some of the dip onto another piece of carrot.
She shook her head violently, her face the very picture of disgust.
"It's good," he promised, and popped it into his mouth instead.
"I want to try," James piped up, reaching for the carrots and very carefully, his face screwed up in concentration, scooping some hummus onto it.
Cassie waited, tissue in hand for him to reject it. She had learned the hard (and messy) way that there was no way of predicting what one of her children would like, or loathe.
Sam seemed to be similarly braced for disaster, but after a few minutes of thoughtful chewing, James smiled.
"It's good," he echoed Sam's earlier statement.
Sam grinned, unexpectedly touched. "Atta boy, Jamie."
The little boy beamed.
"Jamie," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Sam caught Cassie's eye over the top of the boy's head, and pretended he hadn't seen the faint sheen of tears there.
"I wanna try it, too!" Catherine announced, not wanting to be outdone by her brother, and effectively breaking the moment between Cassie and Sam.
Fully sated from Stephanie's picnic, they started to pack the hamper up again. The clouds that had threatened rain for the last hour or so began to clear, bathing the field in a warm, fall glow.
James was looking longingly at the pumpkin patch while his mom and Sam folded up the picnic blanket.
"Have you seen one you'd like?" Cassie asked, leaning down so her head was level with his.
He nodded, his expression solemn.
"Do you want to show me?"
He nodded again, accepting his mother's hand and leading her towards the enormous orange pumpkins, and leaving Sam with Catherine. The little girl scrutinised him as he fought to get the blanket back inside the hamper without it coming unfolded again.
"Are you in love with my mommy?"
Damn. Out of the mouths of babe, eh? Sam thought as he desperately tried to hold onto his composure, and the picnic blanket.
"I…" he paused, completely stumped. The simple answer was…crap. He didn't want to lie to the child, but he wasn't about to tell a six year old that he was in love with Cassie before he told the woman herself. "I like your mom a lot, yeah."
Sam wasn't stupid, he knew this answer was not going to satisfy Cassie's mini-me…who reminded him suspiciously of Abigail on occasion, this being one of them.
"Hmm," Catherine considered, looking up at Sam with big, dark eyes. "Well, she likes you a lot too."
Sam smiled. "That's good," he crouched down so he could be at eye level with her. "And is that okay with you?"
Catherine nodded enthusiastically. "She's been happy since she's been with you…she doesn't cry so much anymore."
Sam's heart broke for her, for all of them.
He made a promise to himself then and there, that he would not cause the three of them anymore hurt than they had already suffered.
He wanted to say more, to reassure her somehow but Cassie and James were coming back, the boy carrying a pumpkin that was almost as big as him.
"Whoa there, buddy," he laughed, taking the pumpkin from his arms before the little boy tumbled. "Let's put all of this back in the car, shall we?"
Catherine and James led the way, Cassie and Sam walking more slowly behind them.
"You're so great with them," Cassie commented, looking at her boots as they moved through the crisp golden leaves.
"They're pretty great kids," he replied. "And they're smart, too. I think Catherine was trying to ask me what my intentions are."
Cassie couldn't stifle her laugh in time.
She was definitely doing that a lot more lately.
With him.
"Oh, yeah?" she asked with a wry smile. "And what are your intentions?"
Sam leaned closer and whispered in her ear, his breath ticking her hair.
She blushed.
Abigail had been right again – she didn't need to worry about how the twins would react to her and Sam dating, it seemed like they'd already figured it out for themselves.
Well, they were Merriwicks.
It had been a pretty perfect day. As close to perfect as a day can be when you contending with two exhausted and grumpy six year olds. The fresh air had knocked them out though, and they dozed the whole journey home from Blairsville.
Cassie watched as Sam lifted James from the back seat and carried up him upstairs, following in his wake with Catherine in her arms. It was as if he did this all the time.
It distracted her from wondering why Abigail hadn't come to greet them. She would have expected her cousin to want to know every single detail of their day out, but maybe she had other plans or just wanted to give them time to say goodbye privately.
Sam and Cassie crept back downstairs, not wanting to wake the fully tuckered-out twins. They hovered in the hallway, neither of them quite ready for the day to end.
"Thank you for today," Cassie said, not sure why she had lowered her voice to a whisper. "We all had a lot of fun."
"Me too," he said with a grin, reaching forward to cup her face in his hand.
She shivered when his thumb ghosted over her lower lip, wanting to him to just hurry up and kiss her. Sometimes the reserves of his patience surprised her, and this was one of those times. Especially because she could so often sense the strength of his restraint.
He lowered his head until their faces were almost touching, his breath warm against her face.
She could almost feel the chains tighten on his control and, although some of what he felt for her was terrifying, she couldn't help the way her stomach flipped when he finally pressed his lips to hers.
"Sam," she sighed against his lips, feeling his hands moved to her hips and molding there.
When he pulled back, her mind was still reeling from the kiss, and the oxygen deprivation.
"So, a little bird told me that it's your birthday next week."
Oh, wow. Change of pace.
"Would that little bird happen to own a flower shop and a dizzying array of leather jackets?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even while her body continue to tingle.
Sam smiled. "A gentleman never reveals his sources."
"Well, your source is correct," Cassie confirmed, a little warily.
This would only be her second birthday without Jake and she really, really did not want anyone to make a fuss. She hoped Sam would understand that without her having to explicitly state it.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask how old you are," he said, trying for levity because he felt like he'd just waded into a quagmire.
When her eyes lightened again, he leaned in for another kiss. There was no way he could leave without tasting her lips again, especially when she gave the sweetest little moan when he nibbled on her lower lip.
Patience is a virtue, he reminded himself.
And she was worth every second of waiting.
When Sam had left, after an extended goodbye kiss, and then another peck on her forehead at the door, Cassie went through to the kitchen, thinking she might forgo her usual cup of tea for a glass of cool white wine instead. Now that Sam was gone, and no longer overwhelming her senses, Cassie realised that she could sense Abigail, yet her cousin had still not made her presence known.
Frowning, Cassie took the bottle from the fridge and poured some into a glass.
Taking a sip, Cassie wandered into the sitting room, wondering if Abigail was taking a nap. That would explain why she could sense Abigail's presence.
She turned the corner and the wine glass tumbled from her hand, glass shattering against the hardwood. She rushed forward, her heart hammering.
"Abigail!" she cried, bending over the inert form of her cousin, sprawled on the floor by velvet couch. "Abigail!"