Cassidy's Courtship - Cassidy's Courtship Part 7
Library

Cassidy's Courtship Part 7

Twenty minutes later Brenna and Teddy were on their way to the library, which included a ride on the

bus, where Teddy said hello to everyone as they made their way to their seats, and a three-block walk to the library. Teddy skipped along beside her, pausing every few feet as something new caught his imagination.

"Why are there cracks in the sidewalk?" he asked.

"It's a seam where the edge of the concrete form meets another block of concrete."

"Oh." Teddy jumped over the crack. "I wonder why they don't make one long strip from there to there?"

A squirrel chattered at them from a branch of a tree. "How come squirrels climb trees and rats can't?

Daddy says they are both pesky rodents." Brenna glanced at the tree above them, horrified at the thought of tree-climbing rats. "Why do flowers smell and leaves don't?" he asked, his quick mind zipping onto a new subject. "Some leaves smell," Brenna said. "Mint." "Did you remember to bringThe Little Engine That Could?" he asked as they climbed the steps leading to the library entrance.

"Sure did." Brenna patted the book she carried under her arm. She opened the door and followed him inside. "I've got it right here."

Teddy ran down the stairs to the children's section with his usual enthusiasm. Three other children were

already gathered in the corner. Teddy sat down next to a little girl and struck up a conversation with the complete confidence of a child who had never met a stranger.

"Brenna, hi!" Nancy Jenkins called from behind the checkout counter.

"Hi," Brenna returned. "How are things down here with your ankle-biters?"

Nancy smiled. "You really should watch that kind of talk, you know. You've entered enemy territory." Brenna grinned and gazed around the bright room with enjoyment. Nancy's assessment was more accurate than she knew: for Brenna, this was enemy territory. Even so, telling stories to the children wasn't half so scary as she had anticipated when she agreed to be a story-hour volunteer. Even more surprising was that she not only enjoyed telling the children stories, she looked forward to it.

"I found that book of train engines you asked me about," Nancy said, leading the way across the room to the corner where story hour was held.

"Good. Color photos?"

"Of course." Nancy picked up an oversize book from one of the carpet-covered cubes.

Brenna focused on the pictures, ignoring the lines of fine print that would have panicked her. "These are good. If I can just keep the kids from asking me anything more technical than 'Where's the smoke stack.'"

Nancy closed the book and set it back down. "It wouldn't matter if they did. You always know just

what to say to them."

"Talking to the kids is easy," Brenna said, ignoring the compliment. She sat down. "Now adults-that's entirely different."

Nancy laughed. "My cue to leave, I think." She took a couple of steps, then turned back around. "Let me know the next time you've got a free Saturday afternoon, and we'll go to the movies."

"No Saturdays any time soon," Brenna said. "I just got a small office to clean." Their mutual love of movies had cemented the friendship after they had discovered that they were both single and both Army brats who had never spent even one full school year in one location. The bond of common experience held them together even as Brenna was sure their differences would eventually drive them apart.

"Sunday then?"

"Okay." Brenna nodded. She picked up the storybook and flipped through the pages, confident that she had thoroughly rehearsed her telling of the story.

"That's my auntie," Brenna heard Teddy say to the little girl next to him. "She's going to tell us our story today."

Brenna lifted her eyes to watch her nephew, then let her gaze wander around the room for the last few minutes she had to wait before it was time to begin. She found the bright colors of the children's library inviting. For a moment, she imagined having a job like Nancy's. Brenna discarded the idea almost the instant it surfaced. She liked kids, and she like coming to the library, but making it her vocation was beyond her imagination. Storytelling. That was something altogether different.

For as long as she could remember, she loved hearing stories. Vividly, she remembered her grandparents' stories about the Great Depression. Her father's memories of his early years in the military were almost as compelling. Brenna's favorite stories, though, came from Nonna, who had told stories of her own grandmother.

Brenna had mostly hated the constant moving that came with her father's military career. The one thing she had liked about moving to new places was the folklore. She had tape-recorded many stories, including those her grandmother had told her. Until last night when Cole had asked her about her dreams, she hadn't ever considered that keeping the oral histories alive could be a job. No, more than a job. A career. A dream, Brenna thought, in this case, most likely a pipe dream.

Dream it. Then be it.

She shook the thought away. No dreams. Not until she had her independence back. Then she'd look beyond the basics.

"Hi, Auntie Brennie," said a little girl who skipped across the room toward her, adopting Teddy's nickname for her.

Brenna smiled. "I'm glad to see you, Lisa. Are you and your sister ready for today's story?" When both girls nodded, Brenna lifted her gaze to include the rest of the children. "Are you ready?"

Vigorous nods and a chorus of "Yes!" answered her.

"Today's story isThe Little Engine That Could ," she began, her smile automatically including the adult that sat down in a chair behind the children. Absently wondering which child's father the man was, Brenna's gaze rose to his face.

Cole Cassidy smiled back at her.

Her voice trailed into a hoarse whisper.

What was he doing here? Her cheeks grew hot and her hands became instantly cold.

All of Brenna's worst fears pooled into a seething cauldron in her stomach.

Today the deception would end. Today, she would be exposed as a fraud. Today, of all the days of her life, would surely be the worst. The urge to run-run as far and as fast as she could-was nearly overwhelming.

"Brenna?" Cole's gentle question brought his face back into sharp focus. "Do you mind if I stay?"

Of course I mind, she wanted to shout. She wiped her damp palms on her jeans. Instead, she found herself answering calmly, "No. If you like-"

"The Little Engine That Couldhas always been one of my favorites." His brilliant eyes held a message Brenna chose not to interpret, though she couldn't ignore it. Involuntarily, she remembered the caress of his lips across hers, carrying no more weight than a whisper, holding her attention as certainly as a whisper.

Brenna returned her attention to the book she held in a death grip. She closed her eyes for a second, calling for the control and confidence she had spent her life building. The carpet-covered cube where she sat wasn't likely to swallow her any time soon, which meant she had to deal with the problem right now. Brenna opened her eyes, opened the book, and smiled at the children.

"Once upon a time," she began, wishing for the next few minutes to be over with. Most of the children soon became involved with the story. They followed her narrative paced to the illustrations, which she kept in front of the children. A roar in her ears kept her from hearing the words she spoke, and for all she knew she might have been speaking Swahili.

Brenna was glad-really glad-that today was not her first time as the story-hour volunteer. Otherwise, she would have been positive the kids were privy to her secret. One little girl practiced tying her shoes. The pair of twins whispered to each other. Another child ran his palm up and down Brenna's jean-clad leg as though the texture of denim was more interesting than anything, especially the story.

Brenna's mental struggle as she recited the story echoed the little engine's struggles. She had spent years perfecting her defenses. Cole wouldn't suspect, because he wouldn't be looking for anything out of the ordinary. Her mind acknowledged the truth of her logic, but she didn't believe it. Any moment now, he would stand, point his finger, and label her for the fake she was.

Any moment now.

Yet Cole seemed to be enjoying himself, just as the children were.

Her pretense was successful. Again.

Yeah, but look at what you got from faking it, came the ever-persistent voice of her conscience. A lawsuit, because you couldn't read the fine print of the lease. Because you couldn't read the back statement. Because- Go away. This isn't the same.

Isn't it? One more lie built on a foundation of lies.

That was a truth she couldn't deny, much as she wanted.

Up and down the mountain, by himself, the Little Engine That Could overcame all his obstacles,

chanting, "I think I can. I think I can! I know I can." The last page of the book came, and the Little

Engine That Could sat on top of his mountain, smug and proud. Smug and proud might have been what the Little Engine That Could felt. Brenna had felt only relief that one more time, the deception had held together.

The children left one by one, most telling her, "Bye, Auntie Brennie," and promising to see her next week. Brenna gathered up the books and stacked them neatly on the cube beside her, aware of Cole's approach.

"You're terrific at this," he said, sitting down on the cube next to her. His suit today was dark, impeccably tailored. A power suit. She couldn't help but compare the suit to her jeans, tangible proof, had she needed any, she and Cole belonged in very separate worlds.

"Thanks," she responded huskily, automatically.

"She's the best volunteer we've got," Nancy added from behind Cole. "It's not often we have one of the

dads pay us a visit."

"I'm not a dad," he explained. "I'm a friend of Brenna's." He extended his hand. "Cole Cassidy."

Friend. A single innocent word that echoed through Brenna's mind. "I'm Nancy Jenkins. It's nice to meet

you." She winked at Brenna. "You're holding out on me, girl." Teddy perched his elbows across Brenna's thigh, and Cole smiled at him. "You must be Teddy." "Yep," he replied. "Is it lunchtime yet? I'm hungry." Brenna stood up. "We're almost ready to go, sport." "Here's the book you asked me about for next time," Nancy said, handing Brenna a large picture book. "Let me see," Teddy insisted, pulling the book down until he could see the cover. "What's this book?" "The Bremen Town Musicians," Cole read. "One of the tales from the Grimm Brothers." "And a very strange story, too," Nancy added, synopsizing the story of four old farm animals who ran away from home and frightened a band of robbers when they sang for their supper. "But, I know you, Brenna. There's some important lesson of life you're getting at here. I mean, you always do. WithThe Little Engine That Could , it was easy to see you wanted the kids to know the importance of trying even when you think you can't. But, this story is too weird for words."

Cole took the book from Brenna and flipped through the pages. Brenna watched him scan the pages, his expression changing slightly as he read. Then he nodded, once, as if confirming something to himself. He looked up, winked at Brenna, and glanced down at Nancy.

"What scared the robbers?" he asked. "The animals themselves? Or what the robbers thought they were?"

"What they thought," Nancy answered. "But I still don't get it."

Cole looked up from the last page of the book. "Appearances are deceiving." He paused and his gaze focused on Brenna. "Right?"

She hadn't expected him to get it, but he had. In spades. Nothing else could have frightened her as much.

"Right," she agreed, forcing the word between dry lips.

"Too bad deception works both ways," he mused.

Brenna was sure she didn't want to know what that meant, but she had to ask, "How's that?"

"In my line of work, things would be easy if breaking through the deception always revealed the truth. But it doesn't work that way. So you never know what is really beneath the deception. The truth or more lies."

Chapter 6.

Appearances are deceiving. Never mind that he was right. Brenna felt as though she had been caught in a trap of her own making. Cole would surely see through her deceptions, if he hadn't already. That she cared a flying fig what he thought baffled her. More. Frightened her.

Fighting the urge to run, she blindly reached into her wallet and pulled out a library card, which she handed to Teddy with the book. "Want to check this out?"

"Uh-huh." He smiled and trotted off to the counter, his posture indicating his pride at being given the job.

Brenna looked up and found Nancy watching Cole. Brenna halfway expected Nancy to have that I-think-you're-great, why-don't-you-ask-me-out expression. She didn't, and when she glanced back at Brenna she smiled-that secret smile between friends that silently said,This guy is hot.

"I still wish you'd tell the kids the story of the Three Little Pigs the way you did to Teddy that one time." Nancy grinned at Cole. "You would have loved it. These pigs went off to seek their fortune, all right. But in professional sports. Can you imagine a little pig as a baseball player?" She put her two fists together as though holding a bat.

Cole's smile returned, and his attention remained fastened on Brenna. "Baseball, again. Do you like the game?"

"She loves it." Nancy echoed. "And I'm telling you, don't ever challenge her to baseball trivia. She'd whip your derriere." She wiggled her fingers. "Gotta go."

Cole's attention shifted to Brenna. "How 'bout a Rockies game?"

"I'm working."