Melt Your Heart

Chapter 31: Tell Her About It

November disappeared in a blur, and before Cassie knew where she was, it was almost time for her first Thanksgiving in Middleton. The B&B was fully booked for the very first time since she had moved to town (and since Abigail had opened it), so working on getting her shop open for business was now firmly on the back burner – the heat considerably lowered underneath it. She told herself she wasn't in a rush to open anyway; there was no way she'd have things up and running for the holiday shopping rush. There was still so much to do.

It would be fine.

Absolutely fine.

She had time.

Well, she had certainly time for the hundred or so jobs that needed to be done in order to get Grey House ready for all the guests, and helping Abigail with the countless shipments of gorgeous fall-toned flowers, and for her children (who were growing up much too quickly in every possible way).

There still seemed to be time to spare to think about Sam. Mostly because she could do that while occupied by other things. If she wasn't quite so talented in the kitchen, this could have led to some disastrous – and frankly crispy – results.

But since that night at his house, she hadn't seen him.

She hadn't seen Ryan either, which was a relief. Although the road to her had been cleared of obstacles – from his point of view, anyway – he was yet to make his move. Cassie was too preoccupied with everything else that was going on to feel anything but grateful for that.

It was almost Thanksgiving, after all.

Abigail Pershing was confused by the text message she received early that morning, the day before Thanksgiving. Reading it with bleary eyes, having been nowhere near a coffee pot yet, she was initially convinced that the sender had chosen the wrong recipient.

"Can you meet me at 12 – there's something I want to show you."

Instead of replying, Abigail engaged in a practice she usually hated, and dialled the number.

"Uh, Sam? I don't think that message was meant for me," she started to say as soon as he answered the call.

"No," he assured her. "You're exactly the person need. I'll meet you outside your flower shop at noon."

Abigail opened her mouth to reply, but he'd already hung up. She stared at her phone for a few moments.

It was a rare occasion indeed that she was the one being blindsided.

Abigail started to close up the shop as midday approached, growing more curious about the meeting with every passing moment. Even stretching her Merriwick abilities to their limits, she couldn't figure out what was going on. But, as the hands on the clock by the door clicked around to twelve, she sensed the familiar presence of not one but two people.

"Sam, Stephanie," she greeted, droll dialled up to a hundred, as she flipped the sign around to 'closed' and locked the door behind her. "Now this really is a party."

"I thought two pairs of eyes were better than one," Sam replied. "I wanted to ask Cassie, but…" he tailed off with a helpless shrug. He had realised he needed the opinion of someone he trusted, and both Abigail and Stephanie fit that bill. But they were his second choice after Cassie; he hadn't known her nearly as long but she was still the person he trusted the most in Middleton.

"She's busy, and we're not?" Abigail guessed, raising an eyebrow. She could sense that Sam was on the verge of slipping into a maudlin state, and teasing him always seemed to help him shake it off.

"Oh yeah, I have absolutely nothing else better to do at lunchtime than go on a mysterious quest with you both," Stephanie added, her sarcastic tone backed up with a quick roll of her eyes.

"It won't be long, I promise," Sam said, ignoring the theatrics from both of them. "And I do value your opinions," he added, to sweeten the pot.

"I'm intrigued," Abigail replied, having to speed up to keep pace with them; her high heels were no match for Sam's long strides and the sensible shoes Stephanie wore to work in The Bistro.

They kept walking along Main Street, leaving the hustle and bustle of the shoppers, workers, and lunch-seekers behind them, until they reached a recently refurbished lot. Sam led them past the newly established chrome-and-glass monstrosity (he blamed Ryan Elliott entirely for its hideousness, even if the realtor had nothing to do with it), to a smaller, single storey, glass-fronted building. He wasn't angry anymore that Ryan had blabbed about his plans to Cassie – leading her down completely the wrong path – but it didn't mean he had any particularly charitable thoughts about the man either.

"Uh, Sam?" Stephanie asked, a little breathless herself when they stopped outside and he fumbled in his jacket pocket for the key. "If you've finally flipped and lured us out here to murder us, could you not have waited till after the lunch rush?"

Abigail chuckled, pushing her auburn hair out of her eyes as she bent to rub the cramp in her calf.

"Oh, please, I'm a doctor, I could find a million and one less obvious - and less messy - ways to murder you, if I chose," Sam replied as he turned the key in the lock with a satisfying click.

"Well, that's reassuring," Stephanie quipped, but followed him inside the building, with Abigail pulling up the rear.

"This is a nice space," Abigail said, looking around and watching the way the autumn sunlight filtered in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"It is," Stephanie agreed, but she sounded less convinced. "But, what do you want it for?"

Abigail had already cottoned on.

"You want to open your own medical practice." It was a statement, not a question.

Sam nodded, his hands in his pockets as he surveyed the space.

"Yup. And you're the first people I've told."

"That's great, Sam," Stephanie said warmly, walking over and laying her hand on his arm.

Abigail smiled at him, tilting her head a little as she studied him.

"So that's why Cassie freaked out a little and thought you were leaving town?" she guessed.

Sam nodded. "Well, because Ryan put two and two together and made some incorrect assumptions."

"Well, with you out of the way, the path to her heart was clear," Abigail said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Doesn't seem to have done him any favours," Sam commented, glad that Stephanie had gone through to look at the rooms at the back of the property. "I haven't seen him sniffing around."

Abigail skewered him with a knowing look.

"Not that I've been paying attention, of course," he added, but he couldn't help sharing a small smile with her. At least things were still normal between him and one of the Merriwick women.

"Of course," Abigail replied. "This is really great though," she continued, turning serious now. "I could picture a waiting area here, a reception desk against this wall, and I'm guessing you'd have treatment rooms in the back?"

"That's the plan."

"It's great, Sam, really great. But," she paused. She wasn't exactly the world's most sensitive or tactful person, but she knew to tread gently here. "But what about the hospital? You're a surgeon, not a small town medic."

"I haven't told them yet, but I'm going to resign. Gradually. Until my practice is all set up here."

"Wow," Stephanie breathed as she re-joined them, catching the tail end of their conversation. "That's a big change for you."

"But one I needed to make," he replied simply.

"And, may I ask," Abigail chipped in. "Did you make this decision before or after you were charmed by my cousin?"

Sam flushed a little, feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious. He supposed a lot of people would be making the same leap, so he had to get out in front of it, and what better way than by telling the truth to two of the people he trusted most?

"It had been on my mind for a while; all I seem to do anymore is perform surgeries or sleep, and I can't keep that up forever. Being with Cassie, and spending time with the twins, it made me realise there was more to life. And even after she ended it, I realised that I was ready to move on, even if we weren't together."

"You should tell her," Stephanie said quietly, but she was looking at Abigail, trying to gauge the other woman's feelings on the matter. Abigail always seemed to have this innate sense of just knowing things, and she was curious to know if they were on the same page about this.

"No," Sam replied quickly and emphatically. "I don't want her to think that I did this for her. For us."

"Stephanie's right," Abigail said, earning her a brief look of surprise from the blonde. "You should tell her."

Although Sam had purposefully sought out Abigail and Stephanie's opinions regarding the property, he hadn't wanted - and didn't want - their input regarding his personal life. He would talk to Cassie when he was good and ready; he'd already told her more about it than he had intended to because of that blasted Ryan.

He stayed on at the property for a while after Stephanie and Abigail had gone back to their own businesses, trying to get a feel for the place. Not that he'd tell anyone that of course. God forbid anyone find out that science-based Doctor Sam Radford was trying to sense if this place - all bricks, and glass, and mortar - had a good feeling about it.

He found that it did, but he didn't know if that made him feel better about his decision, or just plain ridiculous.

But he was going to buy it, he realised.

This was going to Middleton's first - and only – family medical practice.

Oh, crap, he realised, I really am doing this.

Cassie was waiting for Abigail when she walked back to her flower shop, and the younger woman was almost bulldozed by the mix of emotions she was picking up from her cousin. Being a Merriwick, Abigail was tuned in to the feelings of those around her, but it didn't mean she could always identify them correctly. What she thought she was sensing as white-hot anger from her cousin, was actually something far more complicated; something she should recognise as the pain and confliction of badly disguised grief. Unaware of this, she was pretty sure she was in for a tongue-lashing, which should be interesting. People very rarely stood up to Abigail when she was in 'full-force' mode, which often disappointed her, but Cassie was family and this might be different.

"Where have you been?" Cassie demanded – or at least it felt that way to her cousin – as soon as Abigail was close enough to hear her above the breeze that was kicking up the fallen leaves, swirling them in lazy circles just above the sidewalk.

"On my lunch break. It's not against the law, is it?" she asked, shrugging her shoulders and jingling her keys in her right hand. She could sense that Cassie was considering grabbing the keys from her and pitching them at the sidewalk.

My, my, what has you so riled up, she wondered.

"You weren't answering your cell either," Cassie continued, her voice back to its more neutral, gentle tone now. Abigail was beginning to tune into the fact that Cassie seemed far more anxious than angry.

"Is everything okay?" Abigail asked, the temper that had begun to stoke inside of her immediately extinguished by the sadness in Cassie's dark eyes.

She unlocked the door to the flower shop and led Cassie inside, closing the door behind them and not turning the sign back around to 'open' just yet.

"Come through the back with me," she cajoled, leading the way through to the small stock area at the rear of the premises.

"I'm sorry Abigail, I didn't mean to snap at you…" Cassie began, leaning against the table Abigail used to prepare her larger floral arrangements.

"Trust me when I say I've had much worse," she replied, and it did win her a brief, watery smile from Cassie. "You keep so much inside of you, Cassie, you should let it out more often."

"Honestly," Cassie said, with a sigh. "Sometimes I'm afraid that if I do, I won't be able to stop, and every single suppressed emotion from the last two years will come spilling out of me. And I really, really, do not want the twins to see me like that."

"Like what?" Abigail asked gently. "A human being, with real feelings and emotions?"

"I have to be strong for them, Abigail," she said, looking down at her sleeves, tugging them down over her hands. "I'm the only parent they have."

Abigail, very much not one for displays of affection (public or otherwise) or emotion, pulled her cousin into an embrace.

"I'm so sorry," Cassie said, rapidly losing the grip she had on her tears. The gentle stroke of Abigail's hand through her hair seemed to open the floodgates she'd held so tightly closed. "The holidays always make me think of Jake."

"Oh, honey," Abigail said softly, unsure what to do say or do, except keep holding her until the moment passed and her tears dried. Although she wasn't supposed to be using her gifts that way (she'd promised, but she hadn't pinky promised), Abigail used every ounce of her power to will anyone away from even thinking about visiting her shop. If it meant she lost business and the Thanksgiving bouquets went to waste, so be it.

A few minutes later, Cassie emerged from Abigail's embrace, and wiped at her damp cheeks with her sleeves.

"Sorry, I don't know where that came from," she admitted, a little breathless and her temples already throbbing, but feeling like a weight had been lifted all the same.

"Stop apologising," Abigail instructed, back to her no-nonsense tone of voice. "I'm not very good at this…" she stopped, struggling, and waved her arms, hoping Cassie understood. "This 'feelings' stuff. But you can always talk to me, Cassie. That's what having family is all about, right?"

"Of course," Cassie replied, smiling gently and gratefully. "I think I might have taken on too much with these Thanksgiving plans."

"Hmm, really? Taking on too much? Nope, doesn't sound like my cousin at all," Abigail said, giving her a wink. It turned out that teasing Cassie seemed to shake her out of her funk as well as it had with Sam, which was certainly something to think about. "I suggest. No. I demand, that you go back to Grey House and run yourself a deep, hot bath with some of those gorgeous lavender salts you were making the other day, and we'll deal with everything else."

Cassie was shaking her head before Abigail had even finished speaking.

"Absolutely not. There's far too much to do before tomorrow."

"This is my Thanksgiving gift to you," Abigail told her, squaring her shoulders under the leather jacket she hadn't gotten around to taking off yet – in fact, she was pretty sure that Cassie tears were still drying into the material. "The first guests aren't checking in till five, so you have four hours to yourself to rest and put on a nice outfit for tonight's pre-Thanksgiving dinner at The Bistro."

"But…" Cassie continued to protest. The twins still needed collecting from school for one thing.

"No arguments," Abigail stated sternly. "Otherwise I'll tell Ryan you want him to sit next to you at dinner."

"You wouldn't!" Cassie said with an outraged gasp, as her cousin gave a filthy, witchy cackle.

"You'd better not hang around and find out," Abigail suggested in a tone that seemed to brook no argument, and Cassie, who was pretty sure she wouldn't get a better offer all day, quickly hustled out of the flower shop.

Abigail was right again, Cassie was forced to admit.

She did feel better after a good cry, a long soak in the bath, and putting on one of her favourite dresses. Apparently it was tradition to attend Stephanie's pre-Thanksgiving dinner at The Bistro on the night before the big day, and Cassie thought it was a tradition she and the twins could definitely get behind.

The majority of the guests were all checked in at the B&B, and most of them would be heading across to The Bistro as the evening wore on.

Cassie was smiling when she checked their final guests in; a couple from Baltimore who were celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary the following weekend. She found that she could be happy for them and the longevity of their marriage, without thinking about how hers had been cut tragically – brutally – short.

She was also thinking about how tonight would probably be the first time she'd be in Sam's company since her visit to his house. In a way, that terrified her more than the thought of having to spend all evening sitting next to Ryan Elliott.

Abigail shepherded the twins into the lobby at that point, and Cassie was distracted from her thoughts as she smiled at them. Her cousin had been as good as her word; not only had she collected them from school, but she had helped them get ready for the evening, and now they both looked resplendent in their best outfits. Cassie couldn't help but notice that James' sleeves didn't fall below his wrists anymore and that Catherine's dress was a least an inch shorter on her than it had been last time she'd worn it. Must they insist on continuing to grow? Couldn't they just stay little for five more minutes?

"Let's go," Abigail said softly, linking her arm through Cassie's and enveloping her in a cloud of her distinctive perfume. "We'll never hear the end of it if we keep Stephanie waiting."

Cassie laughed, a real, genuine laugh, and allowed Abigail to steer them towards the front door and out to The Bistro.

For better or worse, Cassie avoided Sam most of the evening. Not purposefully, it just seemed like their paths weren't destined to cross. She decided that was a good thing because as well as absence making the heart grow fonder, it seemed to also have the curious effect of making the object of your affections more attractive, which surely shouldn't be the case. It shouldn't be possible for a man to look so good in a crisp blue button down and navy slacks, but apparently it was.

She was careful not to look in his direction too many times, especially not when cousin Abigail had her beady eye on her.

He seemed too preoccupied to talk to her anyway, and he was acting more social tonight that at any other time she since she'd known him. Maybe because when they'd be together at functions before, he'd only had eyes for her and now…

And now he was talking to a tall, athletic-looking blonde woman, her long hair pulled up in a high ponytail. Cassie was desperate to ask Abigail – or Stephanie – who the mystery woman was, but she didn't want to look, well…desperate.

Sam could talk to whomever he wanted, and she had no right to any say in the matter.

And he could date whoever he wanted as well, even if that made her feel like someone had tied a lead weight to her heartstrings.

When she could sense the twins were getting tired – which, in her experience, usually meant a tantrum was on the horizon unless she got them into bed in the next half an hour – she started to make her goodbyes, particularly to Stephanie as the food had been exquisite.

Abigail gratefully took this as her cue to leave as well – there was only so much socialising one person could do when tomorrow was a national holiday – and took the twins by the hand while Cassie finished up saying goodnight.

Cassie was almost at the door, when she heard Sam's voice from behind. She turned around, feeling a little unsteady in her heels. It was more to do with the man than her footwear, though.

"Hi Sam, we're just heading out," Cassie told him, gesturing to where her treacherous cousin had now slipped outside with the twins. She'd get her back for this.

"I know," he said gently. "And I'm sorry we didn't to spend more time together tonight, but there's someone I'd like you to meet."

Cassie was dimly aware of the world crashing down around her shoulders. Unfortunately, it wasn't a new feeling for her.

The tall blonde with the ponytail was smiling at her, her hand on Sam's side, in a gesture that seemed more familiar than possessive. Cassie decided this was worse.

"Cassie, it's so lovely to meet you," she said, and unless she was a very good actor, she seemed to be completely genuine. "I've heard so much about you."