The Girl From Summer Hill

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was wrong.”

  “Shhhh,” he said. “It’s all right.” He stroked her hair.

  “I thought you hated me.”

  “I could never do that.”

  She pulled away to look at him. “But you were so angry at me!”

  Tate gave a little laugh. “I was. I haven’t had a lot of women tell me no. It was a shock to me.” She put her head back down on his shoulder. “I’ve committed to this play and I have to honor that. But the second our performances are done, I’ll be going back to L.A.”

  “Oh. I see,” Casey said. “L.A. Want me to close up the house here for you?”

  “No. Don’t take my head off again, but I want you to go with me. But if you don’t like that idea, I will come here as often as I can.”

  Casey let out her breath. “You really meant what you said.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “Of course I did! What is it about Haines that makes perfectly sane women like you and Nina believe him?”

  She knew it was a rhetorical question, but she answered anyway. “Probably his faked displays of emotion. He says everything with tears and angst, like it’s coming from the very depths of his soul. You say, ‘Baby, my jet’s running. Wanna go with me?’ ”

  Tate laughed. “I think I’ve been in L.A. too long, because those words are guaranteed to get any other woman there.”

  Putting his hand under her chin, he tipped her face up to look at him. He was serious. “Acacia, I like you very much. I like the way you see through the outside of me to what’s underneath. I like that I can be myself with you, that you have no preconceived ideas of what I should be. I like your enthusiasm for life. I especially love our bodies together.”

  He took a breath. “I want you to go to L.A. with me to see if you can tolerate my odd life. I made up my mind about you at the first, maybe on that day when you yelled at me about the pie. I’ve had to wait for you to decide what you want.” He paused for a moment. “Will you go with me?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I will.” Her head went back to his shoulder.

  “Good, but we have to keep it quiet. I’m afraid Haines will take his anger out on Emmie and Nina.”

  “Can’t something be done to stop him? Can’t lawyers help?”

  “What he does is immoral but not illegal. You can’t imprison a man for using words to ruin lives. Not even for lying constantly. It’s not illegal to give a pretty girl a gift and tell her it came from his grandmother.” Tate sighed. “Why is it that women fall for bad boys, then get angry when they turn out to be bad boys?”

  Casey listened more to his tone than to his words. “You’re really worried, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. He’s getting worse. He’s obsessed with the idea that I have ruined his life. I’m going to stop paying him soon, which means that he’s either going to have to get a job or figure out a way to get someone else to support him. I dread whatever he’s going to do.” Tate took a breath. “I don’t want to stir him up while Emmie and Nina are here. And you. What he did with that girl…”

  “Rachael Wells.”

  “Right. Her. That was defamation of character. When I get back to L.A., and Nina and Emmie are safe on the other side of the country, I’m going to get some legal advice. There has to be something I can do to stop this man’s vendetta against my family.”

  “Does he do this to all your girlfriends?”

  “No, but he knew I didn’t really like any of them.”

  For all the horror of what Tate was saying, she couldn’t stop her smile. She ran her leg between his thighs. “I’ll keep us a secret. In the last weeks, my acting ability has improved so much that now I’ll be able to make people believe that I can’t bear the sight of you.”

  Tate made a sound that was half laugh, half groan.

  She rolled on top of him, her face scrunched into a deep frown. “Are you saying I’m not a good actor?”

  “Jack said that yesterday you delivered your lines like you were a robot.”

  Casey’s eyes began to tear, but she blinked them away. “Oh,” she said sadly, and started to roll off him.

  He grabbed her to him and held her head on his chest. “I’m sorry! I’m sure you were—”

  Casey’s giggle was muffled by his chest.

  He pulled her head away and saw that she’d been teasing. “You brat!” He began kissing her neck.

  “Take it back about my acting.”

  “Or what?” His lips were moving downward on her chest.

  “I’ll serve you canned soup.”

  Tate lifted his head, put his hand to his heart, and gave a deep sigh. “ ‘You bruise me to my core. I cannot continue as I have been. Without you I am nothing. I must—’ ”

  She kissed him until he was silent, then broke away to look at him. “You said those lines better on film.” She kissed him again.

  “You saw one of my movies?” His eyes were alight. “Which one?”

  Casey laughed. “Shut up.”

  “ ‘Your wish is my desire. I live only—’ ”

  He was quoting his lines again. Still laughing, she kissed him again, only this time the kiss didn’t end.

  They made love slowly, enjoying each other, so very glad to be back together. They exchanged no words, just kisses and caresses.

  When they at last finished, it wasn’t with the passion they’d felt at first—that seeing-each-other-again fury—but with something deeper, something that came from inside and transcended mere bodies.

  They lay in silence, side by side, hands entwined, heads touching.

  “Dress rehearsal is today,” Tate whispered. “I look forward to seeing you in one of those low-cut—”

  Abruptly, Casey sat up. “Lunch! I forgot lunch!”

  “It’s okay. We’ll order in and—”

  Casey got out of bed. “Listen, City Boy! Bags of grease are not the same as what I cook. Get up, get dressed, go downstairs, and set a stockpot of water on to boil. I have to wash the sweat off.”

  “I don’t have any clothes up here. They’re outside and it’s now daylight, remember?”

  Casey was in the bathroom. “You walk around naked in front of a camera, so make do.”

  “I am sooooo glad you saw my movies,” Tate muttered.

  “I heard that!” she yelled from the shower.

  —

  Tate opened Casey’s closet door, saw nothing he could get into, then decided to go outside and get his own clothes.

  Because Casey was in the shower, she didn’t get to hear the comments that greeted a nude Tate when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

  Emmie giggled and hid her face; Nina handed him his sweatpants; Gizzy said, “Oh, my goodness!”; Jack said Tate needed to work on his pecs; Josh asked if he could train with them.

  It took Tate a few moments to recover as he slipped on his clothes. “I take it we’re making lunch.”

  “If you can spare the time,” Jack said in sarcasm.

  —

  Minutes later, when Casey ran down the stairs in a panic, she was confronted by what looked to be an army of people in her kitchen, all of them busy with food preparation. She wasn’t sure whether she was glad or horrified. As far as she knew, none of them knew how to cook, so what were they doing to her food?

  Tate put his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “You’re not alone now,” he said softly. “You have a family.”

  Casey started to smile up at him, but just then Nina dropped a container of chopped onions into a bowl of cake icing. “Oops,” she said. “Now I’ll have to pick them out.”

  Tate leaned down to Casey. “On the other hand, you’re not alone now. You have a family.”

  Laughing, Casey hurried forward to sort out the mess.

  Later, Nina was chopping peppers—far away from anything sweet—and she asked Josh how he was related to Casey.

  “Well,” Josh said as he moved to stand closer to Nina. Considering tha
t he hadn’t been more than ten inches from her side since he arrived, that wasn’t easy. “My parents had me, so of course they wanted more kids.” He smiled at Nina, who nodded in agreement at his joke.

  “But Dad had some physical problems, so Dr. Everett suggested they use a donor. What no one knew was that the donor was his son Kyle, who had funded his many adventures around the world with his…uh, donations.” Josh was grinning in a naughty way. “So anyway, my half sister Stacy was born. We have the same mother but different fathers.”

  Everyone looked at Casey in question. “My mother couldn’t find a man who lived up to her very high standards, so she chose a donor out of a catalog. Dr. Kyle.”

  Gizzy was next. “No babies came to my parents, so they asked Dr. Everett’s advice. He recommended a donor.”

  Tate laughed. “His son?”

  “Yes,” Gizzy said. “Of course, no one knew that at the time.”

  Nina looked at Casey. “So let me see if I get this straight. You and Stacy and Gizzy all have the same father. But if you and Josh don’t share a father or a mother, then you aren’t related. He could have played Darcy.”

  Casey’s face was serious. “I think the scientific term is called the Ewwww Factor. Yes, that’s it. Definitely a yuck.”

  Josh nodded in agreement. “I think—” He broke off at a sound from the door.

  “Hello. I came to help, if you need me.”

  It was Dr. Kyle, and they couldn’t contain their laughter.

  Good-naturedly, he opened the screen door. “I take it there’s been talk of my dad’s obsessive desire to have grandchildren.”

  They all nodded.

  Dr. Kyle looked at Emmie. “I was told that you know all about Letty and Ace. Want to hear how they fooled the grown-ups by faking stomachaches from eating little green apples?”

  “Yes!” she said, took his hand, and they left together.

  Smiling, Casey glanced at the clock. When she saw that it was almost ten, sheer panic ran through her. “We’re going to be late! Kit is going to—” She didn’t finish because the thought of Kit’s wrath was enough to turn all of them into jet engines.

  As they scurried about, Jack gave a quick kiss to Gizzy, and Tate kissed Casey. When Josh passed Nina, it seemed natural that he should kiss her too. The only problem was that the kiss continued. They stopped in the middle of the kitchen, arms about each other, lips locked. If Tate and Jack hadn’t caught the dishes falling out of their hands, they would have broken.

  Gizzy and Casey moved the kissing couple to the side, out of the way, as they rushed around to clean and pack. At four minutes to ten, the two couples ran out the door. Josh and Nina were backed up to the refrigerator, still kissing. Since neither of them was in the play, the others left them there.

  “You Summer Hill people are a lusty lot,” Jack said as they ran, and they all laughed together.

  Much to Kit’s displeasure, it took the cast an hour and a half to get into their costumes. He bellowed that hair and makeup were to be skipped. His words were directed to the two couples playing the leads. “When I said be here by ten, I meant to be ready to act. Clothes on.”

  “But you said—” Casey began, but the looks Jack and Tate gave her made her stop. Right. The director’s word was the law.

  The stage manager, clipboard in hand, interrupted Kit’s tirade for a private conversation. From Kit’s expression, what she was saying wasn’t good.

  He turned back to the players, who were in various stages of getting dressed. “Has anyone seen Lori? The girl playing Lydia?”

  Everyone shook their heads no.

  “Great!” Kit muttered. “A no-show. Probably out with her boyfriend.” He looked at the stage manager. “Who do we have for her understudy?”

  “Uh…Devlin Haines isn’t here either.”

  Kit was so taken aback that he couldn’t speak.

  Casey looked at Tate, but he shrugged. He had no idea where the man was.

  Kit wiped his hand over his face, then announced, “Jack! You’ll stand in for Haines, and you, Hildy, will be Lydia for today. Think you can do it?”

  “Of course,” Hildy said. She was in costume for Lady Catherine de Bourgh, an older woman, so it was going to be interesting to see her try to play a fifteen-year-old girl.

  “All right,” Kit said. “Places for act one, scene one. The Bennet family’s parlor. Kyle, I want you to be laid back. Olivia, I want— Where is she?”

  “Here I am,” she said, as she stepped onto the stage. She was beautifully coiffed and made up. Her blonde hair had been pulled back and was supplemented with wispy ringlets. Her dress of pale peach and white stripes was embellished with tiny sprigs of forget-me-nots in green and white. With the deep square neckline showing off her ample bosom, she looked utterly divine.

  From the expression on Kit’s face, he thought so too. Silently, he pointed to the place where she was to stand.

  The first scene went off perfectly. Olivia played the neurotic Mrs. Bennet so well it was difficult to remember she wasn’t actually that way.

  Hildy as a silly, flirtatious fifteen-year-old was absurd. Everyone had to work to suppress laughter.

  Casey was pleased to see that her father’s performance as Mr. Bennet got better every day. Offstage, she whispered to Gizzy, “This is another talent of his. Maybe an actor brother or sister will show up.”

  “Jack is helping me enroll in a school in L.A. to become a personal trainer,” Gizzy replied. “I’m moving in with him.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Casey said as they both went back onstage.

  Scene two was at the Meryton assembly hall, and everyone was dancing. Casey had to concentrate to remember the intricate steps they’d rehearsed. When Tate appeared in his glorious tight trousers and midnight-black coat, it was impossible to pretend she didn’t like him. She had a vision of them together in her bedroom, in full costume, slowly removing each other’s clothes. Maybe there’d be a peacock feather or two involved.

  Tate clearly sensed what she was thinking, and he cut a sideways look at her that was so hot, her hair seemed to catch fire.

  “Tatton!” Kit bellowed.

  Everyone halted. Every actor, Jack included, had been on the receiving end of Kit’s bad temper, except Tate. “Could you rein in your carnal imaginings for the length of this play? You are not to show your lech for Miss Elizabeth Bennet until the script says you should do so.”

  Tate had to suppress a grin as he said, “I will make my utmost effort to not reveal my baser yearnings.” The other players smothered laughs, but Kit glared at Tate in silence.

  Because of their late start, they only got to Mr. Collins’s proposal to Lizzy before the grumbles of hunger made Kit dismiss them for lunch. Cast and crew stopped mid-sentence and ran toward the guesthouse.

  “I need to set up,” Casey called after them. She grabbed her long skirt as though to run, but Tate caught her arm.

  “I sent a text to Nina. Let her and Josh take care of them—if they can stop kissing long enough, that is. Why don’t you and I go to my house for a while?”

  “Mmmm,” Casey said. “Sounds good.”

  As Tate started to kiss her, Casey stepped back and glanced around. After all, they had agreed to keep what was between them secret—not that they were doing a good job of it. Her father and Olivia were to one side, scripts open in their hands. On the other side of the gazebo, Kit was rummaging through some boxes, but actually watching Olivia with the handsome Dr. Kyle.

  “Lori is missing!”

  They all turned to look at the woman who came onto the stage. She was tall, older, and elegantly dressed. “My granddaughter didn’t come home last night.”

  Olivia went to her. “Estelle, tell us what happened.”

  She just stood there, her eyes bleak, frantic. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Olivia put her arm around the woman’s shoulders. “Does Lori have a boyfriend?”

  With a shaking hand, Estelle held out a piece of
paper and Olivia took it, read it, then handed the paper to Kit.

  He read it and groaned. “That’s great! Just perfect. Lydia has run off with Wickham. Fiction becomes reality.”

  Casey drew in her breath, her fist to her mouth in fear, and looked at Tate. He pulled her into his arms.

  “Who the hell are we going to get to replace them at this late date?” Kit said angrily. He turned to Tate. “We need some actors fast. Can you call an agent? A casting director? Or—”

  “Is that all you care about?” Estelle said. “Who can fill the places in your damned play?”

  Kit drew himself up into military stance. “Madam, I am sorry for your unhappiness, but eighteen-year-old girls have minds of their own.”

  “Eighteen!” Estelle shouted. “Is that what she told you? Lori is fifteen years old.” She looked at Olivia. “She’s always been tall for her age and she makes people think she’s older. She—”

  “This is a case for law enforcement.” Kit’s anger was gone. He pulled out his phone. “I’m calling the FBI.”

  Estelle shook off Olivia’s arm and stalked forward to Kit. “Then what? You turn everything over to them and you go back to your little play? What happens when this odious man hears that he’s run off with a child and the FBI is chasing him? What do you think he’ll do to her? Dispose of her?” Her voice was a screech.

  “I’m sorry.” Kit’s voice was full of sympathy. “What else can I do?”

  “I don’t know!” Estelle yelled. “This is all your fault, Christopher Montgomery! You and that damned money of yours. Haines found out who Lori is. They called me from Jacksonville and said someone had been asking questions. They said he’d been told the truth!”

  Kit’s voice was gentle but firm. “I’m afraid you have me mixed up with someone else. I’ve never been to Jacksonville.”

  Estelle, wringing her hands, her face red, her eyes wild with fear, turned to Olivia. “Tell him! Tell him everything!”

  Olivia’s face had gone pale, but she kept her composure. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Lori’s mother, my daughter Tisha—short for Portia—was born on the twenty-eighth of May, 1971. Dr. Everett arranged the adoption. Do you remember that date?”