Accidental Love (52 page)

"Here. You'd better put on a jacket. Ronnie will kill me if you become bait."

"I thought there weren't any dangerous fish in this river?" Rose asked as Ronnie started the truck up and backed the boat into the water.

"There aren't, although the bullheads can give you quite a sting."

"Don't you go scaring her," Ronnie called from the truck. She gathered the various poles and tackle boxes from the back and passed them to Frank before untying the boat and moving the truck to the parking area. He had the motor running and ready to go by the time she returned.

"Okay ladies, hang on now. It's time to go fishing." He backed away from the dock and pointed up the river. "Let's just see what four hundred horses can do on the open water." The water behind them churned and the bow raised up as he gunned the engines. Rose looked nervously at Ronnie. "Please tell me he doesn't drive a boat like he drives that truck."

They stopped several miles upstream with the main motor pulled up in favor of the trolling motor. Ronnie baited Rose's line first, then her own. Frank set up a couple of lines for himself and took up a position at the bow of the boat, settling himself into one of the upraised swivel chairs. Ronnie helped Rose into one at the stern and took the one next to it for herself. The early morning sun was beginning to lighten the sky and as expected the fish were jumping. Frank quickly made the first catch, a small-mouthed bass that barely made it over the limit. It landed in the holding tank with the hopes of being culled later.

"Having fun?" Frank asked.

"Just dandy," Ronnie replied, sending her line out once again.

"Hey!" Rose held her pole in a death grip. "I think I've got something." The tip of her pole dipped once, then twice, then a high whining sound filled the air as the fish took off, taking her line with it. She heard Ronnie's pole hit the deck followed immediately by strong arms wrapping around her to help steady the pole.

"Start bringing back your line," Ronnie said, her breath ticking Rose's ear. "Don't let him get any slack or he'll wiggle off." Rose found her lover's hands covering hers and together they worked the spirited bass.

"Got a lunker there, eh?"

"Feels like it, Frank," Ronnie replied. "Sure is bigger than that minnow you tossed in there a few minutes ago. Better grab a net for this one."

The fish tried again to escape, nearly succeeding in pulling the pole free from Rose's hand. "Oh Ronnie, it's too strong. You take the pole." She tried to hand the rod over but the black-haired woman refused it.

"No, you can do this," Ronnie said as she released her grip and stepped back, leaving Rose to handle the feisty bass on her own. "That's it, keep the line taut, wear him down."

"Oh my, he feels so big," the young woman exclaimed, the line still tugging hard with the fish's attempts at freedom. Suddenly it jumped straight out of the water, showing them all what Rose was up against.

"Holy shit," Frank exclaimed. "Hang on, I've gotta get the big net."

"You've got a monster there," Ronnie said, standing at her lover's side. Thinking that her cousin was not looking, she reached over and put her hand on Rose's shoulder, stroking it lovingly. The bass finally tired and allowed itself to be brought alongside the boat where Frank scooped it up in the net.

"Son of a bitch. What a big fucking fish," he said happily, sticking his hand into the gills to hold it up so they could see it.

"Nice language, Frank," Ronnie admonished, looking at Rose pointedly.

"Oh, she's heard it before," he said, drawing a glare from his cousin. "Hey Blondie, you sure caught one hell of a large mouth here. I should have brought a camera."

"Look how big he is," Rose said. "Can he go back now?"

"Back?" Frank laughed. "Honey, this isn't the kind of fish you throw back. This is the kind you take to the taxidermist and have mounted."

"Mounted?" She turned to Ronnie, who was busily removing the hook. "I don't want to keep it."

"I can't believe how big he is," the executive said. "Rose, are you sure you don't want to make him into a trophy? He's a beaut."

"I'm sure."

"Do you want to even touch him before I throw him back?" She held the wriggling fish up in front of Rose's face.

"No," she practically shrieked, shoving at Ronnie's arm. "It's big and it's beautiful and I want it to go back in the water please."

The Cartwrights exchanged looks before Ronnie bent down and set the fish into the water. She baited Rose's hook again and they returned to fishing.

"He's not mad because I threw the fish back, is he?" Rose asked once Frank was out of earshot.

"Mad? No, not mad. Shocked, but not mad."

"Are you mad?"

Ronnie turned to face her. "You are so gentle it's amazing." Rose felt the warmth of her lover's palm on her cheek. "No, love. I'm not mad. I can't believe you let a prize-winning catch like that go back, though. You are definitely not the fishing type."

"No, I guess I'm not," she admitted. "But I am having fun, even if I do like to let the fish go."

Ronnie smiled and sat back in her seat. "Just as long as you're having a good time."

"Anytime I'm around you I'm having a good time," Rose replied, drawing a warm smile from her lover. Frank yelped with another bite, but the bass paled in comparison to the whopper that Rose had caught. Ronnie went to the bow to help him. "Gee Frank, catch another dozen or so of these and there might be enough for a sandwich," she teased, holding up the small fish.

"Hardy har har, Cuz." He frowned when Ronnie measured the fish and found it too short to keep.

"Maybe Blondie will catch us another one."

"Her name is Rose."

"Oh yeah?" Frank turned toward the woman in question. "Hey Blondie, having a good time?"

"Yes," she called back, happily watching both her and Ronnie's poles. "This is fun."

Frank leaned in toward his cousin. "You and I have been coming out here for opening day for over twenty years now and never caught one that big."

"She's something else, isn't she?" Ronnie replied, smiling in her lover's direction.

"Dunno how you managed it, Cuz," he said, looking at Rose. "Nice girl. If I believe the rumors floating around I should expect to see her at all the family functions from now on."

"What rumors?" Ronnie deliberately lowered her voice, not wanting Rose to overhear. "What have you been hearing about her?"

"Come on, Ronnie. We're Cartwrights. You know there are no secrets in our family. Everyone knows you two are sharing the sheets," Frank replied. "Gotta admit though, after all the shit that happened when you were in college, I didn't think you'd go for a woman ever again." He looked at Rose again. "But she seems very nice."

"I don't think who I do or do not sleep with is anyone's concern," she said defensively.

"Take it easy, Cuz." He held his hands up. "It's not a big deal." Ronnie relaxed slightly. "Hey, at least you nailed yourself a nice one. Not like you'll have to go elsewhere looking for it when you have something like that waiting for you at home."

"Hey Ronnie, I think you've got something," Rose yelled out while watching the tip of the pole jerk.

"Yeah, you got something all right," Frank teased low enough for only his cousin to hear. "Quite the catch if you ask me."

Sure is,
Ronnie thought to herself as she worked her way to the stern.
So you like her too, eh?
A smile formed on her lips as she watched the wind play with Rose's hair. Frank's acceptance of the young woman's role in her life was important to Ronnie. The Saturday morning fishing trips that she enjoyed so much would continue as always…only now with the woman she loved there alongside them. Ronnie closed her eyes and turned her face toward the sky, letting the sun's rays warm her tanned skin.
Some days are just perfect,
she mused.
The sun is out, the fish are
biting…I have Rose…

"Ronnie, I mean it," Rose said more insistently.

"Oh, sorry," she said, snapping out of her thoughts.

It was around ten o'clock when they finally made their way back to the dock. Rose's fish had been the biggest of the day, although Ronnie did pull in two impressive looking ones. Frank used every lure in his tackle box and still had nothing worthwhile to show for his efforts. Male pride made him throw back the puny catches that he did make. They went to an out of the way diner for lunch before returning home. While Rose made a beeline for the bathroom, Frank helped Ronnie bring the poles and tackle inside. "Good day of fishing, Frank."

"For you and Blondie, maybe," he snorted. "I would have had better luck catching a cold."

"The season's just started, Frank. You'll get a trophy catch next time, I'm sure."

"Yeah, but no matter how big it is it won't compare to your catch, Cuz." He looked at his watch.

"Speaking of catches, if I don't show up home soon the boss is gonna think I found myself a cutie like yours."

"There's no one like Rose," Ronnie said emphatically.

"I don't doubt that. Must be something pretty special to stay with you after the accident."

"Um, Frank…" She led him outside, away from anywhere Rose could hear them. "You have to watch what you say. She doesn't know about the accident."

"What do you mean she doesn't know? Isn't she the one that's been on crutches and all? I mean, she is the reason your Porsche got damaged, isn't it? I get a frantic call from you one night and then right after that she shows up. It doesn't take a college degree to figure it out."

"She doesn't know about the Porsche," the executive clarified. "Look Frank, that kind of thing can't get back to Rose."

"You've never told her?" He rubbed the short stubble on his face and looked at the house. "Oh man, Ronnie. You're walking a thin line with that kind of secret. Damn, the worst thing I've kept from Agnes was a few insignificant affairs and a hidden bank account."

"And I'm sure the mother of your children appreciates that," Ronnie said dryly.

"Mother of most of my children, you mean."

"Doesn't she know about the boy?"

"No. I know enough to cover my tracks." He opened the door of his truck and pulled himself up onto the bench seat. "She's a nice girl, Ronnie. Bring her fishing anytime." He turned the key, the Ford roaring to life. "See ya Monday at work."

"Bye Frank." Ronnie waited until he was out of the driveway before turning and heading back into the house, praying that she could trust her cousin to keep her secret.

*******************

Rose was typing a memo when the phone rang. "Veronica Cartwright's office. Miss Grayson speaking."

"Hi Rose, this is Wendy from Accounting. Is Ronnie around?"

"I'm sorry. She's in a meeting right now. Is there something I can help you with?" She remembered the accountant from tax time when she had handed over her Money Slasher W-2.

"I'm right in the middle of Ronnie's quarterly tax estimates and I can't find the paperwork for her Porsche."

"Porsche?"
Ronnie never said anything to me about having a sports car other than the Mustang.

"Wendy, are you sure? I know she has the Cherokee and the Mustang but I don't know anything about a Porsche."

"Hmm, she did unless she got rid of it. Anyway I need the paperwork on it or I can't finish this up. You think you can find it and have it sent down to me?"

"Sure. I'll look for it right now."

"Thanks, Rose. I'll be waiting for it."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye."

Rose put the receiver back in the cradle and reached for her cane. If there was such a car, Ronnie would have that paperwork in her private files. Reaching into her desk drawer, she retrieved a small key and headed into Ronnie's office.

Sure enough, behind the files for the Cherokee and Mustang was a folder marked Porsche and Rose pulled it out of the cabinet and returned to her desk. She set the folder down and called Susan's secretary to cover for her while she took the file to Wendy. When she picked the folder up again, a photo fell out. She looked at the red car, thinking it too speedy for Ronnie's tastes. Opening the folder to put the picture back, her eyes fell on a receipt sitting prominently on top of the other papers. It was a repair bill from Hans' Import Cars. Her eyes widened at the total at the bottom.
I can't imagine paying a repair bill like that.
Calculations of hours and materials filled up the receipt, but it was a hand scribbled note just above the total that caught her attention.
Repairs started 12-5, completed 1-18.

Rose slumped into her chair feeling as if a sledgehammer had struck her in the chest.
Repairs
started 12-5.
Right after the accident. If that wasn't enough, another receipt showed the Porsche had passed inspection only a week before. "Oh God…" A sick feeling churned in her stomach and she had to swallow several times to keep her coffee down.

There was no mysterious stranger driving drunk. It was Ronnie.
Tears started to fall, smearing mascara down Rose's cheeks.
That's why you wanted to help me so much. It was all a lie to
protect yourself.
Dabbing her eyes with a tissue, she reached out with shaky hands and opened the Rolodex. Her lower lip quivered and her vision blurred as she tried to find the number to the cab company Ronnie used to pick clients up from the airport.
It was all a lie.
Her hands shook so hard she misdialed the number twice before finally reaching the right one. Rose's voice wavered as she spoke with the dispatcher. She was informed there was one only a block away and it would meet her in front of the building. Without waiting for Susan's secretary to arrive, Rose gathered her purse and cane and left the office.
It's okay, Ronnie. You don't have to worry about
me anymore.
She choked back a sob.
I understand.

Maria was surprised to see a cab pull into the driveway and even more so to see Rose step out. She opened the sliding glass door. "What are you doing home in the middle of the day? Rose?

Child, have you been crying?"

"It's nothing, Maria," she sniffed. "Where's Tabitha?"