Cassandra's Song. Carole Gift Page

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СКАЧАТЬ father looked from daughter to daughter with a question mark in his eyes. “My sermon?” He broke into a self-satisfied grin. “Actually, my sermon is done. I’m as ready for Sunday as I’ll ever be.”

      “But, Daddy, you can’t be,” protested Frannie.

      “Oh, but I am, muffin.” He grinned slyly. “I’m speaking on the importance of letting God do His work in our lives rather than trying to orchestrate the future ourselves. After all, we end up in quite a pickle when we try to—”

      “Yes, Daddy, we get the message,” Cassie said, sweeping over and helping her father take off his bib. “I’ll collect the bibs, and then we can…we can, uh…”

      Her father broke in. “Why don’t we adjourn to the music room and let Cassie give us a preview of Sunday’s cantata?”

      “Oh, that would be delightful,” said Emma.

      “No, Daddy, I really couldn’t tonight.”

      Andrew wasn’t about to be deterred. “Well, then let’s gather around the piano and have an old-fashioned hymn sing. How about it, ladies?”

      Emma clapped her hands. “Oh, I love to sing. What about you, Lydia?”

      “I’m not much of a singer, but I’ll give it the old college try.”

      Brianna and Frannie cast sidelong glances at Cassie, as if to ask, Now what do we do? Cassie shrugged helplessly, her arms filled with bibs. Nothing about this evening was going the way she had expected.

      Her father gave a contented sigh. “Good dinner, girls. You outdid yourselves as usual.” He pushed back his chair and stood, then helped Emma and Lydia out of their chairs. As he motioned the women toward the music room, he tweaked Cassie’s cheek and said, “You’ll come play for us, won’t you, cupcake?”

      Her shoulders sagged. “Sure, Daddy, I’ll be right there.”

      “And Bree and Frannie, you’ll join us, too, won’t you?” her father urged. “You girls have such lovely voices.”

      “Sure, Daddy,” they said in unison.

      For the next two hours they sat around the piano singing every hymn they could recall, Cassie’s tapered fingers moving expertly over the ivory keys as her father’s rich baritone blended with his daughters’ lyrical sopranos and the eager, if unpracticed, altos of their two guests.

      At some point Cassie lost track of time and realized, to her surprise, that she was thoroughly enjoying the evening. In fact, it was obvious that everyone was having a marvelous time, especially her father and his impromptu dates.

      It was nearly midnight when Lydia and Emma said their reluctant good-nights, “Dear girls, we must do this again very soon! Your father is such a treasure! You must be so proud!” and slipped off into the night, chatting amiably, as if they had known each other forever.

      With the ladies gone, Andrew beckoned his daughters close and drew them into what might have been a football huddle, his arms draped around their shoulders, their heads all nearly touching at the forehead. “My darling daughters,” he said in a soft, wily voice, “I know you love practicing your matchmaking schemes on me, but setting me up with two dates in one night? Isn’t that a bit much even for you?”

      “Oh, Daddy, we didn’t mean to,” Brianna exclaimed. “I invited Emma—”

      “And I invited Lydia,” Cassie said. “I didn’t know about Emma until—”

      “Well, girls, next time coordinate your efforts, okay?” Andrew’s expression grew solemn, the sea-blue of his eyes deepening. “In fact, I would prefer that there be no more matchmaking efforts on my behalf. Is that understood?”

      “But, Daddy,” protested Cassie.

      “No buts, Cassie. I’m very happy with my life just as it is.” An unexpected tenderness softened his voice. “I had a wonderful life with your mother. She was the love of my life, and I don’t expect to find another woman I could love that way again. So, please, promise me, no more conniving to get me to the altar again. Promise?”

      “Promise, Daddy,” Frannie agreed.

      Brianna looked reluctant, but finally acquiesced. “Promise.”

      Cassie turned away, silent. There was no way she could make such a promise. She knew what her father needed even if he didn’t…an extraordinary woman who would love him with the kind of passion and devotion that would erase the grief and loneliness she saw in his eyes when he thought nobody was looking.

      Somewhere in this vast, wide world there had to be such a woman.

       Chapter Three

       O n Saturday morning—a balmy, early autumn day—Frannie poked her head inside Cassie’s door and whispered, “You awake, sleepyhead?”

      Cassie rolled over and burrowed her head under the pillow. “No, go away. After last night’s fiasco, I want to sleep till noon!”

      Frannie slipped inside the room and curled up on a corner of the four-poster bed. “It wasn’t so bad. We actually had fun, didn’t we? And Dad was a good sport, don’t you think? So it all turned out okay. As long as we don’t try playing matchmaker again.”

      Cassie pulled her tousled head out from under the pillow and looked at her youngest sister through bleary eyes. Frannie was sitting cross-legged in her PJs, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders to the middle of her back. “Fran, did you wake me up just to rehash last night?”

      “Of course not.”

      “We’re not having more dinner guests tonight, are we?”

      “No. Not at all.”

      “Good!”

      “But I, uh, have a favor to ask.”

      Cassie fluffed her pillow under her head and closed her eyes. “Your timing is lousy, sis. Whatever it is, no!”

      “Then you won’t go?” Frannie’s tone was petulant.

      Cassie opened one eye, her curiosity rising in spite of herself. “Go where?”

      “To the concert tonight.”

      “What concert?”

      “At the university.”

      “San Diego State?”

      “Of course. What other school is there?” Frannie drew in a breath and rushed on. “Antonio Pagliarulo is performing.”

      Cassie sat up and forked back her mop of unruly hair. “Who?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

      “Antonio Pagliarulo. A fantastic tenor. He teaches music at the university. You teach in the music department. Surely you know him.”

      “I’m part-time faculty. I go, teach my two classes, and disappear again. СКАЧАТЬ