Last Seen.... Carla Cassidy

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СКАЧАТЬ you’re interested in Cherokee culture, this is the place to spend your time,” she said, her voice holding none of the coolness it had moments before.

      “That’s where my grandma works,” Maggie said. “We go there lots of times and do dances and have fun.”

      “There is something going on there almost every day during the summer months,” Breanna explained.

      “My mother thinks it’s very important to continue to educate people about the Cherokee ways.”

      “Your father is Cherokee, too?” Adam asked.

      Breanna laughed. “No. Dad is one hundred percent fighting Irish, as proud of his heritage as Mother is of hers.”

      “Must have made interesting supper conversations.”

      It was obvious speaking about her parents put her at ease. She smiled and nodded. “You don’t know the half of it. Both of them are stubborn, passionate people. I should probably warn you. We rarely get through one of these family gatherings without an explosion of fireworks between them, but the fireworks rarely last long.”

      She pulled down a dirt lane that led to a rambling ranch house. There was not another house in sight in any direction. Cars in a variety of shapes and sizes clogged the circular driveway in front of the house.

      She parked the car and turned to Adam. “Do you come from a large family?”

      “No. My parents died when I was eleven and I was raised by an aunt and uncle. That is pretty much the extent of my family.”

      Her dark eyes flashed with a flicker of sympathy. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

      “Don’t be. My aunt and uncle are kind, loving people.”

      “That’s good. But I just wanted to warn you that my family is big and loud and might be quite overwhelming to somebody unaccustomed to big family gatherings.”

      “Mommy, let’s go!” Maggie said plaintively from the back seat.

      “Yes, let’s go,” Breanna agreed and opened her car door. “It looks like most of the gang have already arrived.”

      It took them only moments to get out of the car and walk down the driveway to the house. Breanna opened the door and they entered a large living room.

      Adam’s first impression was one of warmth and comfort. It was obvious this room, decorated in earth tones, was the heart of the house. The walls held Native American artwork, all with the common theme of Indians and bears.

      “They’re all the work of a local artist. Her name is Tamara Greystone. She’s a teacher at the high school,” Breanna explained. “You might want to look her up…you know, share techniques or whatever.”

      “I might just do that,” he replied, although he had no intention of sharing “techniques” with an artist, who would see through his false claim with ease.

      Maggie danced ahead of them and out a sliding glass door. Breanna motioned for Adam to follow her outside.

      Nothing Breanna had told him had prepared him for the cacophony of sound coming from the throng of people on the large patio. Breanna had mentioned an older brother and sister, but it was obvious this gathering was bigger than immediate family members only.

      He saw Rita James standing with a group of people around the large, brick barbecue. Her gaze caught his and she immediately left the group and approached him and Breanna with a warm smile.

      She grabbed his hands in hers. “Adam, I’m so glad you came.”

      “I appreciate you inviting me,” he replied.

      She released his hands and smiled at her daughter. “Breanna, why don’t you take Adam around and introduce him to everyone.”

      “All right,” she agreed easily.

      Over the next few minutes Adam was introduced to enough people that his head spun, trying to remember names and faces. He was introduced to Thomas James, Breanna’s father, a tall man with graying red hair and bright blue eyes.

      He stood duty over the racks of ribs that sizzled on the barbecue grill. He greeted Adam with a firm handshake and exuded a vigor and energy that belied his age.

      Adam was then introduced to Jacob Kincaid, an older man who was Thomas’s best friend and the president of the largest bank in Cherokee Corners.

      “Jacob is our resident collector,” Breanna said. “His house is filled with antiques to die for and he has a wonderful art collection and some of the most exquisite Fabergé eggs you’d ever want to see.”

      Jacob smiled at Breanna with obvious affection. “I certainly hope Mr. Spencer isn’t a cat burglar because if he is, you’ve just given him a road map to the riches in town.”

      “Oh, and did I mention his state-of-the-art security system?” Breanna added and both men laughed. After visiting a few minutes with the banker, Breanna excused them and led Adam to a woman seated in a lawn chair. He instantly knew it was Breanna’s sister.

      The two women looked remarkably alike, except that Savannah’s dark, glossy hair was cut short. That, coupled with a profound sadness in her eyes, gave her a look of intense vulnerability. Although she was pleasant, Adam found Breanna far more interesting.

      He told himself his only interest was the fact that his life and hers would forever be bound by the child she’d had…Kurt’s child.

      After they visited with Savannah for a few minutes, Adam was introduced to Breanna’s brother, Clay. Clay had brooding good looks, his eyes radiating the intensity of a driven man. Although friendly, he seemed distracted, as if he found his inner thoughts more interesting than those of others.

      Breanna introduced him to cousins and aunts and uncles and more friends of the family. It was easy to see that the James family was not only well liked in the town, but also highly respected.

      “There’s one more person I have to introduce you to,” Breanna said, “then it probably won’t be long before we eat and you can visit with whomever you please.” She led him to another pretty young woman who sat slightly alone on a stone bench surrounded by early blooming spring flowers.

      “This is my cousin, Alyssa Whitefeather. Alyssa, this is my new neighbor, Adam Spencer.”

      Alyssa stood and offered her hand to Adam. “Hello, Mr. Spencer.”

      Adam took her hand in his and started to return the greeting, but before he could say a word, Alyssa’s blue eyes rolled upward and she collapsed in Adam’s arms.

      Chapter 3

      Breanna sat on a chair next to her parents’ bed where Alyssa lay pale as a ghost against the dark blue bedspread. Adam had carried her in here, then Breanna had shooed everyone out of the room and closed the door.

      She knew the family would return to their activities. Over the years they had all become accustomed to Alyssa’s occasional “spells” and knew she would be unconscious for a few minutes, then would awaken and be fine.

      What СКАЧАТЬ