Once Upon a Moment by Heather Burch

Author:Heather Burch [Burch, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

The faintest hint of spaghetti sauce lingered in the air as John woke the next morning. The evening before played in his mind. Conner and Emily. Zachary breathing life and exuberance into everything he touched… and Cassandra. Through the grog of early morning, he tried to sort his feelings. But they remained a ball of mixed of emotions intertwined with jagged steel wool. He tossed the covers aside and staggered to his window.

In the yard next door, the Labrador retriever ran circles chasing a spark from a wind chime. Nothing has changed, John reminded himself. Cass planned to come by later in the morning to drop off the rifle Tony left him. He puzzled at this. John hadn’t fired a gun in years. Hadn’t been hunting, hadn’t been to a shooting range. Tony knew that. Not that John didn’t appreciate the gesture… He just couldn’t wrap his head around why.

After coffee and chasing away the morning-monster inside him, he stood from the table to answer the door. Florida sun framed her in the doorway. She was dressed in denim Capri jeans and a stretchy top that had a V at the neckline. A tiny golden cross draped her collarbone. A shimmering headband peeked out from strands of golden blonde hair with the smallest hint of grey mixed into the sun-kissed streaks. She held a rifle case under her arm.

“Good morning,” she said.

As pleasantries flew, he took the case from her, positioned it on the couch, and ushered her into the house. As they moved toward the kitchen where the aroma of fresh coffee hovered, he noticed the headband tied at the base of her neck leaving long streamers trailing down her back. He couldn’t stop his fingers from reaching up to the beadwork at the scarf’s end halfway down her back and nestled between her shoulder blades.

Cassandra stopped just inside the kitchen doorway when she felt the gentle tug on her scarf. He stood behind her.

He could see her shoulders rising and falling with each breath as he studied the intricacy of the garment. Tiny beads threaded into a lacy design on the sheer material. The beadwork and embroidery were extremely detailed.

Facing away from him, he heard her say, “It’s an antique.”

“I’m not surprised.” Fingers trailed over the beads then up the length of the material. His fingertips grazed her neckline.

She angled to glance over her shoulder at him, bringing their faces close. A light chuckle escaped her. “I bought it in Europe. I was hoping to find an antique ring for Melodie, my daughter-in-law. But instead, I found this for myself.”

His gaze traveled from her to the garment, then back again. “It’s beautiful, Cass.”

“It came from an estate sale of an eccentric English woman who’d obtained it from French nobility.” She thought a moment. “Well, that’s what the woman at the secondhand shop told me. Probably made it up, you know me, I’m a sucker for a good story.”

“Does it have a good story?” he asked, softly.

“Yes, it does.”

His attention remained focused on her, the end of the scarf still clasped between his fingers.

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