The Girl From Summer Hill Read online

  “When you were a child, there must have been times when you wanted your mother to be there.”

  “Yes, but I knew she was helping other people.” She looked at Olivia. “But sometimes I wanted her to help me. Sometimes I wanted to be like the other girls and complain about how my mother wanted me to choose a truly hideous prom dress. When I chose my dress, my mom was in Mumbai at a medical conference, and my caretaker at the time was a retired butcher. I now know how to field dress an elk, but sometimes…”

  “You wish you could have had a normal teenage fit.”

  “Yes.” Casey glanced back at the stage. “This is stupid, but I miss Tate even more than I used to miss my mother. I didn’t think that was possible. But I don’t know if I can trust him. Devlin says—”

  Olivia cut her off. “Are you basing part of your judgment on what someone else says? Casey, you can’t do that. You have to use your own instincts, what you want.”

  “I know,” she said, “but I can’t dismiss information from someone who knows Tate so well. Uh-oh. Kit wants us onstage. I may be off in this, but are you and our illustrious director angry at each other?”

  Olivia stood up. “He made a pass at me and I turned him down. Come on, we have lots of scenes to rehearse.” She started toward the stage, but Lori stopped her.

  “I was wondering about something, and Kit said you could help me. There’s a scene where Lydia gets to go on a trip, but her sister Kitty can’t go. The girl playing Kitty and I are friends—or used to be—and…” She gave Olivia a look of helplessness.

  “You want to know how to play it so you’re glad but not shoving your triumph in her face.”

  “Yes!” Lori said. “That’s exactly what I want.”

  “Let’s go over to the side and we’ll figure out how to run the lines so you don’t hurt your friend’s feelings.”

  As Casey watched the two of them walk away, she thought how sad it was that Olivia would never have her own grandchildren. Then she thought of Kit. He was older, but he was a really good-looking man. “Why in the world would you turn him down?” she said under her breath.

  “Hi.”

  Casey looked up from the pot of bubbling blackberries to see Devlin standing outside the screen door. She couldn’t help the frown that flashed across her face. With three dinner parties to plan and prep for, she needed to get the jam into jars. She didn’t have time to hear Devlin’s snide remarks about Tate.

  As soon as she thought that, she felt guilty. The man had confided in her in friendship and she should have sympathy for him, not wish he’d go away.

  “I don’t mean to bother you, but I was wondering if I could hire you.”

  “Oh!” She put down her spoon. “Sorry. Come in.” She felt even more guilt for what she’d thought. Be nice to customers, she reminded herself.

  He came inside, but he didn’t sit down. “Today I’m rehearsing scenes with that kid Lori. I don’t know how Jane Austen could write about a grown man going after a fifteen-year-old girl.”

  “There was no ‘politically correct’ then.” Casey glanced back at the pot.

  “I won’t keep you,” he said. “A friend of mine, Rachael Wells, is flying in on Saturday morning and she wants to go on a picnic. Could I hire you to make something wonderful to take with us?”

  “Sure.” Casey wiped her hands on a towel as she picked up a pen and notepad. “What do you two like to eat?”

  “I, uh, I…” He gave her a helpless look. “You wouldn’t go with us, would you?” As though he weighed a thousand pounds, he flopped down on a stool. “I’m in a bit of a pickle. This woman has a crush on me. She was the co-star of my TV show, played my girlfriend. It was on cable, so we did some nude scenes together. Hazards of the trade. Anyway, I’m afraid Rachael took it all seriously. She said she’s coming here Saturday morning and she’s demanding that I take her on a picnic. I know she wants us to be alone in the country, but frankly, the idea scares me. So would you please go with us?” His eyes were as pleading as a hungry dog’s.

  Casey didn’t want to go, and her instinct was to say no. But then she thought of this man being Tate’s niece’s father, and she found herself nodding.

  Devlin got off the stool, his face one huge smile. “You are a great, great friend. Thank you so much.” He went to the door.

  “What about the food?”

  “Anything you like,” he said as he left. “I trust you.”

  —

  The moment he was out of sight, Devlin began cursing. The bitch had forced him to change his plans! Landers was gone, so what was the frown she’d given Devlin when he showed up? What hold did Tate Landers have over women?

  This morning Devlin had rehearsed what he’d say to Casey, about how Landers had ruined his TV show. He planned to use her sympathy to get her to go on a picnic with him. Yesterday he’d heard of a nearby sheer rock face beside a stream. Devlin thought he’d take Casey there, then fake a nearly fatal accident and let her save him. Women so liked a helpless man. While she was nursing him back to health, they’d just naturally end up in her bed.

  He loved thinking about telling Landers that he’d enjoyed his new girlfriend. It wouldn’t be as great as when Devlin had taunted him about his sister, but it would still feel very good.

  But when Devlin saw Casey frown, he knew that wasn’t going to work. Landers had certainly done a number on her! He’d played the hero and made her believe it.

  As always, everything was given to Landers, but Devlin had to work hard for what he got.

  For a few moments, he’d had no idea what to do. But then he thought, I’ll have to get someone else to tell her.

  The story about the girl and the picnic had been impromptu—and if he did say so himself, it was some of his best work. Just that morning he’d been thinking of Rachael. On the TV show, their sex scenes in front of so many people had turned him on so much that he’d been eaten up with desire. Uncontrollable. He’d pulled her into his dressing room and not given her a chance to say no. But then, what could she say? Devlin was the star of the show. His word was law. If she refused him, he’d just tell the producer that Rachael wasn’t right for the part, and she’d be killed off—which is what he’d ended up having to do.

  Even though today hadn’t gone as planned, Devlin had spontaneously come up with the idea of Rachael and a threesome picnic. His acting had been so good that he wondered why he’d never before realized how brilliant he was at improvisation. Really quite remarkable.

  Smiling at the discovery of yet another talent, he took out his phone, found her number, and touched the call button.

  “Rachael? It’s Devlin,” he said into the phone.

  “What the hell do you want?” she snapped.

  “Come on, baby, don’t be like that.” His voice was low and coaxing.

  “You got me fired! That TV show was the best job I ever had. A regular paycheck. And all I had to do was look at you like I gave a crap whether you lived or died.”

  “I’m sure you don’t mean that. I hear you haven’t found another job yet.”

  “Nobody will hire anybody who was on that show you ruined. It’s like you put a curse on all of us. The guy who played your boss won’t even put it on his résumé. I wouldn’t but—”

  Why did people always blame him? Devlin wondered. He cut her off. “How about if I make it up to you? I have a job for you. It’ll only take a couple of hours. I’ll fly you out here to the glorious state of Virginia, you’ll play a part, then you can go home the next day. I’ll even shell out for a night in a hotel. How does that sound?”

  “Like you’re up to no good.”

  “Do you care?” he shot back.

  “Not when I owe three months’ back rent, I don’t. Except I won’t do anything that’ll get me put in jail.”

  “I wouldn’t do that to you, baby. How well do you know Tate Landers?”

  “We’re great buds. He hangs out around my pool. We have drinks together every Friday.”

&nb