The Girl from Summer Hill (28 page)

As Tate was walking back to his house, his cellphone rang. He didn't answer it. He was too numb, too much in a state of shock, to talk to anyone. How had he been so wrong? How had he misjudged someone and a situation so completely?

When his phone wouldn't stop, he pulled it out of his pocket. It was Nina. It would be better not to let her know anything was wrong. “Hi, baby sister,” he said with enthusiastic cheerfulness.

“Oh, no! What happened?”

“Nothing,” Tate said. “I'm glad to be back and the play is going well and—”

“Don't you
dare
use your actor voice on me. You're a mess and I want to hear every word of what happened to you.”

“Your ex-husband—”

Nina groaned. “I want you to get to a computer and put it on Skype. You're going to tell me all of it, and I want to see your face as you do it.”

It was an hour and a half later that Nina closed her computer, and for a moment she gave herself over to quick tears. She well knew the treachery her ex-husband was capable of. His lies, his plots, his manipulations, could destroy lives.

When she was married to Devlin, she'd known he was having affairs, but the truth was that toward the end she was glad for anything that kept him away from her and Emmie. When he was with them, all he did was complain. No one ever gave him enough, did enough for him. She never understood his extreme sense of entitlement, but over the years she'd learned not to confront him. Confrontation made him go into rages that could last for days. Nina could stand it, but a baby didn't deserve it. She'd learned to tiptoe, to be quiet, to agree with him, and especially to constantly, endlessly, without relief, build his ego. Yes, he was magnificent; yes, everyone in the world was too stupid to see what a glorious being he was. Whatever it took to keep his rages under control, she did.

When Tate came home after finishing his fifth movie in a row, he was appalled to see what had happened to his sister. When she was near her husband, every other sentence she spoke was about what a great man he was and how everything he did was better than anything anyone else did.

But Tate saw a man who did no work at all. He didn't support his family, didn't take care of the house Tate had given them, paid no attention to his wife and daughter. Nina was exhausted from housework, childcare, and doing every menial task her husband could think of.

When Tate tried to talk to her, Nina repeated what Devlin told her. Without a good job, he couldn't feel like a man. So Tate had pulled strings, spent money, and made promises to get Devlin a starring role in a TV series. But he'd messed it up. When confronted, Devlin had blamed Nina for the show's failure. He couldn't be expected to succeed when he had a wife who never supported him, who never said a good word to him or about him.

In the end, Tate turned down a movie so he'd have time to oversee the divorce.

But now it looked as if her dear brother was on the receiving end of Devlin's lies. Nina could tell that Tate really liked this young woman, Casey, and she was sure her ex-husband had seen it too.

Nina went to Emmie's room. Her daughter was painting at her easel. “How'd you like to spend the night at Alicia's house?”

“Did she invite me?”

“No,” Nina said, “but I'm going to ask her mom if you can stay. It might be for two nights. I have to do something for Uncle Tate, so I have to go to L.A.”

Emmie looked at her mother hard. “You're going to save him, aren't you?”

“Yes, I am. When I get back, you and I are going to Summer Hill, and we're going to fix all of Uncle Tate's problems. How does that sound?”

“Great!” Emmie said. “Do you think they sell riding boots in Virginia?”

“Are you kidding? They may have invented them in that state. Meanwhile, think about what you want to eat. Tate's girlfriend can cook anything, and I want her to be very busy with the Landers family.”

“Uncle Tate says the best food in the world is peacock and dumplings.”

Nina laughed. “My brother is…” She stopped. “Deserving of the best,” she said. “Now pack, and you're allowed to take only two suitcases to Alicia's house.”

“Mom!”

Nina started to leave the room. “Two and that's all,” she called over her shoulder.

Smiling, Emmie pulled four pink cases from under the bed.

“I am in the right,” Casey said aloud. It was what she'd been telling herself for days, but she still felt awful.

After the picnic, Gizzy had shown up and Casey told her everything.

“They did it all for publicity?” Gizzy said, aghast. “How frightened that little boy was!”

Casey had made them drinks and snacks and they'd spent hours sharing—or Gizzy did. She told of every date she and Jack had been on, of the intimacy, the laughter, the adventures they'd had. Casey's eyes widened when she heard of all the things the two of them had done together.

“But we never talk,” Gizzy said. “Just plain
talk
. He looks so pleased when I do something like swing from a rope and land in the middle of a pond that I do it again and again. I love the physical and it's great that Jack can keep up with me, but sometimes I want to be still. I want to tell him what's inside my mind. Do you have the same problems with Tate?”

“No.” Casey didn't say that everything with Tate had been perfect. She had no complaints at all. He was caring, concerned, an unselfish lover. She could talk to him about anything and he always made her feel better. He—

“Is there any more of this?” Gizzy held up her empty glass.

“Sure.” Casey went to the kitchen to get the blender out of the fridge.

“I don't like hearing that you and I were considered temporary,” Gizzy said from the doorway, “but it's okay. Jack and I would have broken up anyway. I need more than just the physical side of a relationship.” She paused. “Casey, I'm going to leave Summer Hill. I don't know where I'm going yet, but somewhere. I may go back to school to get a license to become a personal trainer. I think…”

When Casey looked up, she saw that Gizzy was crying. She set the blender down and went to put her arms around her.

“I'm lying,” Gizzy said. “Jack was great. I could have tied him to the bed and
made
him listen to me, but I didn't. He's a movie star, but I'm just a—”

“You're beautiful.” Casey meant to stop her from saying anything bad about herself.

Pulling away, Gizzy grabbed a tissue from a box by the cookbooks. “Fat lot of good it does me! Every man in this town is afraid of me.”

“The firemen love you.”

“Only because I can slither inside skinny spaces.”

“I think it's the slithering that they like to watch.”

Gizzy sniffed. “Don't make me laugh. How are we going to do this play with Jack and Tate?”

“I don't know,” Casey said. “I really and truly don't know.”

The two of them ended up crying and hugging and saying that at least they'd learned something. But that was poor compensation for the loss of the two beautiful men they'd come to care about.

Casey had been able to contain her anger about what she'd found out until Tate showed up after his trip. She was like a steam kettle ready to explode. When she first saw him, pure happiness went through her. He was standing in the fading light and looked like he was very glad to see her. For a split second, she wanted to dive through the screen door and go to him. Throw him to the ground and tear his clothes off.

But he got to her before she could move. His arms around her felt so good, and the electrical charge between them made her body hum. For a few seconds she forgot all the terrible things that she'd learned about him.

Then he opened his mouth. Out of it came orders and demands. Everything Casey had heard from Rachael seemed to be in his words. He wanted her to change her life for him, give up all she knew and loved to go to the other side of the country to be at his beck and call. After she had a makeover, that is.

The anger and outrage inside her erupted, and she told him what he could do with his demands.

In an instant, his face had gone from happiness to…to nothing. It was like looking at a photograph. He showed no emotion whatever. Not anger or sadness, not even disappointment. Just blank.

After he left, she again talked to Gizzy and they strengthened their resolve to stay away from the men. If they hurt like this now, what would it be like if they continued?

One thing they agreed on was to say nothing about what had happened. If they told even one person about the publicity stunt, it could become local gossip. From there it could go nationwide. The last thing they wanted was some scandal bringing the press to their small town. They didn't want the play tainted with the dreadful news.

Keeping quiet hadn't been easy for Casey. But she said nothing to her mother or to Stacy or to Olivia. She did her best to smile and act as if nothing had happened.

She didn't want to be alone with her thoughts, so she baked. Pies, cookies, cupcakes, a six-layer salted-caramel cake. She delivered everything to the crew at the gazebo. When they couldn't eat even half of it, her father, Dr. Kyle, took it to a homeless shelter.

“Are you okay?” he asked Casey.

“Sure. Fine. Nothing is wrong with me. How are you? How's the new doctor?”

“Jamie's good. There are problems, but…” He shrugged. “If you need to talk to someone, I'm always here.”

“Thanks, but I really am fine. I have to go and…uh, rehearse.”

“Sure,” he said.

The rehearsals were bad. Jack looked as if he hadn't slept in days. Casey saw him and Gizzy talking, but when Gizzy walked away from him, Jack looked like he might cry.

Casey had no mercy. Actors! she thought. Who knew when their emotions were real?

One day, Kit told Casey to rehearse with Tate. It was the scene where Darcy says the ladies want to show off their figures.

“There are only ten yards of fabric in this dress,” Casey said. “I hope it'll fit around my hips.” Everyone on the stage stopped and stared at her.

Kit ran his hand over his face. “Deliver me from young love.”

“What would
you
know of it?” Olivia's voice held an extraordinary amount of anger.

After that, the day went downhill.

Tate and Jack pulled back into shells of coldness, never letting anyone see beneath the surface.

Casey and Gizzy had trouble concealing their anger, and when they spoke their lines, some of the hurt and fury they felt could be heard and seen.

“You're supposed to be
in love
with him!” Kit shouted at Gizzy about her scene with Jack/Bingley.

Her reaction was to walk off the stage, and Casey went after her.

Kit threw up his hands in frustration. “Take a break,” he shouted. “Eat some of the hundred and fifty cakes and pies Casey baked.”

The only person smiling was Olivia.

Casey ran back to the guesthouse, which had become her sanctuary, her hiding place. She didn't venture out except for rehearsals and necessary errands. No more wandering about the grounds, searching for fruit-bearing plants. She was too afraid she'd see Tate. Or Jack. Or the well house.

She made three meals a day for Tate and Jack and delivered them in a cooler. Only once did she see Tate. He was sitting alone at the table in the breakfast room and he looked as unhappy as she felt.

Probably acting, she thought, and turned away before he saw her.

Twice, Devlin had approached her. Maybe it wasn't fair, but she couldn't bear the sight of him. She wished she could feel some sympathy for him. After all, he seemed to have been thoroughly used as Tate Landers made his way to the top. Devlin's career, his marriage, seeing his beloved daughter, all of it had been taken from him in his ex-brother-in-law's ferociously ambitious pursuit of a career.

But even though it made no sense and wasn't at all fair, Casey didn't want to see Devlin, or talk to him, or even be on the same stage as he was. Before he showed up with his friend Rachael, Casey had been sublimely happy. In one seemingly innocent picnic, it had all changed. Laughter with Tate, telling him secrets about her life, kissing, making love. When she'd been with him, she'd felt more alive than she ever had before. But now all of it was gone, never to be found again.

Maybe it wasn't fair to blame Devlin, but she did. She just wanted to stay far away from Tate
and
Devlin. The anger, the vindictiveness, between those two men was not something she wanted to be part of.

Devlin seemed to understand, because after the first couple of days he kept his distance. He became quieter, almost as though he regretted that he'd been the cause of so much turmoil. Casey often saw him going over lines with young Lori, leaning over her in a fatherly way. It was as though he'd become a mentor to her.

Casey couldn't help thinking that young Lori was having a good effect on Devlin. The girl was a favorite with everyone. She was so quiet, never complaining, always with a book in her hand. In spite of being very pretty, she seemed almost mousy—until she got onstage, that is. Then it was as if a magician waved a wand and Lori went into character. She didn't just play Lydia but
became
her.

Lori had lightened everyone's bad mood when they most needed it.

One day when Dr. Kyle was late, Kit went into the garden to take a phone call. While everyone was standing around grumbling, Lori stepped forward and loudly said, “
I'll
play Mr. Bennet.” She looked at Olivia. “Really, my dear,” Lori said in a deepened voice, “can you not see that Mr. Collins is an odious little man? Too unlovely for Jane, too stupid for Elizabeth.”

The lines weren't in the book or the script, and everyone was bewildered.

Only Olivia understood, and she stepped forward. “Ah, well, then, shall we package Lydia and present her to him? Perhaps roll her in the second-best rug?”

Lori seemed thoughtful as she reached to the fake fireplace and pantomimed removing a pipe. As she lit it and began puffing, she seemed to be thinking hard. “Lydia is too full of life, too exquisitely beautiful, and much too intelligent to be hidden in a rug.”

Since Lori was playing Lydia, the spectators let out a muffled laugh.

“I agree,” Olivia said. “It would be a shame to conceal hair the color of sunlight for even a moment.”

More laughter escaped since Olivia was as blonde as Lori. “Perhaps Kitty?”

Lori puffed on her imaginary pipe. “Kitty is young, silly, and oblivious to the outside world.”

At the side of the stage, the high school girl playing Kitty was tapping away on her phone, unaware of anything going on around her. The crowd quit trying to hold in their laughter.

“Then,” Olivia said, “oh, wise husband, perhaps Mary. With her books, she could be a match.”

“No,” Lori said thoughtfully as she looked around at the people on the stage. “I have decided who will marry Mr. Collins and will have this house that is my very soul. The house that is the source of all this beastly marriage rumpus.” Lori took a long breath, then whirled around and pointed at the woman playing Hill, the overworked servant of the Bennets.

In real life, the woman was about forty-five years old and was doing the play only because her children had nagged her into it.

“Hill, you are my great love!” Lori said loudly. “And the house will be yours!”

The woman—the only one onstage who was sitting down—said, “Only if Darcy comes with it.”

There was an explosion of laughter that didn't end until Kit came back on the stage.

After that little episode, Lori was everyone's favorite.

Other than that one bit of lightheartedness, the rehearsals were unpleasant and they continued to be for nearly a week. By the end of it, Kit and Olivia were hardly speaking. One morning Olivia was to work on the scene where her husband is teasing her. But Dr. Kyle was called out on an emergency and had to leave. Kit stepped in for the part.

“Oh, Mr. Bennet,” Olivia said, “you have no feelings for my nerves.”

“Your nerves,” Kit said softly, even seductively, “your words, your thoughts, your very breath, have been my companions these many years.”

“If only I believed that!” Olivia snapped, and walked off the stage.