Free House of Dreams by Brenda Joyce Page A

crosswalk. She was in a daze, as well as exhausted, and she didn’t wait for the light before crossing. Fortunately, there wasn’t a lot of vehicular traffic, but a driver blared his horn at her just the same.
    Cass really didn’t hear. She could only hear one voice, one thought, there in her mind. She couldn’t let Tracey take Alyssa away. She had to go with them to Spain.
    The gates to Tracey’s mansion were open. A garage abutted the limestone Tudor-style house, and the doors were open—Tracey’s black Aston
Martin was visible inside. Cass hoped that meant she was home. And if she wasn’t, she would wait.
    Trepidation filled her. She walked up the white shell drive. Blooming gardens surrounded the house, but Cass hardly noticed. She rang the bell. Reminding herself to stay calm, no matter what.
    Cass knew her sister. If Tracey saw how frightened she was, how she was unraveling, she would somehow use Cass’s weakness against her. If she yelled and screamed, Tracey’s determination would only increase. If she was clever and gentle, she could convince Tracey that bringing Alyssa along without her would only interfere in her private life.
    A servant told her that Mrs. Tennant was in residence, and asked her to wait.
    After a few minutes, Tracey came downstairs, clad in a pair of jeans and a skimpy top that somehow had designer written all over it. “Cass?” Her tone and expression were wary.
    Cass tried to breathe evenly. So much was at stake. “Hello, Tracey. I had to come speak with you.”
    Tracey stared, her expression not softening. “All right. Come in.”
    Cass managed a smile, following her sister into a huge, mostly white, very modern living room. Tracey and Rick Tennant had bought the six-bedroom house together, just after their marriage, and Tracey had managed to keep it after the divorce. “Tracey, I am sorry about the fight.”
    Tracey grimaced. “Did you hear what she said to me?”
    â€œShe didn’t mean it,” Cass said quickly.
    â€œYes, she did. She meant every word. But then, she never really liked me. You were always the perfect one, the one who could do no wrong. You were always her favorite.”
    Cass stared in surprise. “That’s not true! You were always the apple of her eye, Trace. The picture-perfect angel in blond pigtails.”
    Tracey laughed harshly. “Oh, please.” She fingered a huge crystal ashtray on a living room table.
    Cass didn’t know what to say. “I don’t understand how this has happened. I don’t think Catherine is well. I am sure she will come to her senses in no time.”
    Tracey looked up and shrugged. “I don’t care if she is going bonkers. She hates Antonio—but I love him. And that is that.”
    Cass turned away, stared at the gardens outside, then turned back. “You know, you’re right. I am a bit jealous, and I am sorry, really sorry, for it.”
    Tracey’s eyes widened.

    â€œI mean, he is a great guy and it’s obvious. I wish you the best, Trace.”
    â€œThat’s why you drove out here today? To wish me the best?” Tracey was disbelieving.
    â€œI’m really upset by that fight. I didn’t mean to take sides. I didn’t realize that sometimes I stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. It’s really hard, Trace, being the glue in this family. We seem to need glue. I’m just trying to help.” Cass meant every word. She was the glue in the family. The mediator, the peacemaker, the go-between. It was never easy, but maybe, sometimes, she shouldn’t interfere. But she was only trying to help.
    Tracey stared. “You’re just too nice sometimes,” she finally said. “Sometimes I wish I were more like you.”
    Cass looked up. “You’re kidding, right?”
    Tracey shrugged. “I know I’m too wild. It must be a genetic defect.”
    Cass’s pulse