Somebody Like You (16 page)

Pauline Hardeman wore her thick, chestnut hair in a short, no-nonsense style. Cash took after her slender build but had his dad’s dark hair, tanned skin, and miss-nothing, emerald-green eyes.

“What are you guys doing here?” Cash asked. “I figured after being gone all this time, you’d have enough catch-up at your place to keep you busy for a week.”

“We do,” his dad groused. “I made the mistake of taking your mom into town for breakfast. To Sally’s.”

Cash grimaced.

His dad laughed. “Yep, she told us all about your new ranch hand.” He nodded toward Annelise. “Couldn’t keep your mom away.”

Annelise wanted to squirm beneath his parents’ scrutiny but called on her years of training. She smiled at them, praying they wouldn’t read on her face how she and their son had spent the afternoon. One glance at Cash, and she knew his mind had taken the same route.

But if either of his parents guessed their son and the new ranch hand had been rolling around naked on a quilt at lunchtime, neither let on.

“Where are you from, Annie?” Pauline asked.

Grateful the truth was out, Annelise answered honestly. “Boston.”

“Whoa, that’s a long way from here,” Quentin said. “Don’t guess you wandered into Maverick Junction by mistake then.”

The man was nobody’s dummy. “No, I didn’t. I used to have family in Texas and thought I’d visit. I decided to stay for a while, and Cash was good enough to offer me a job.”

She doubted he’d buy that as the whole explanation, but, to her relief, he let it go.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to give Shadow a good rubdown after our ride.” She threw his parents a smile, totally aware Pauline had a thousand questions. Not today. They’d have to wait till she had her feet under her.

Annelise turned to Cash. “If you don’t need me, I think I’ll head home after I finish here to make those other arrangements.”

Cryptic, but she didn’t want to go into any more detail.

“That’ll be great.”

The phone Cash had given her rang, and she dug it out of her hip pocket. She answered it as she led Shadow away. She didn’t look back, didn’t want to see the questions in Pauline’s and Quentin’s eyes. Didn’t want to catch Cash’s gaze.

The phone call captured her attention immediately, blocking everything else.

“Yes, yes, I can make it. Thanks so much, Oliver. I appreciate this more than I can say.”

Hank entered the stall and lifted the saddle off Shadow for her.

“You didn’t need to do that, Hank.”

“I know it. Maybe I wanted to.”

“Well, thanks.”

“No problem.” With that, the unpredictable old hand turned and walked into the office in the back. Pauline and Quentin followed him in, having been promised a cold drink.

By the time she’d finished grooming Shadow, the tension in her neck and shoulders was almost palpable. It had been an extraordinary day. One every girl dreamed about. One that usually involved romance, candles, and flowers.

She didn’t mind one bit the candles had been missing. As for flowers, she’d had those. The meadow had been filled with wildflowers, the ultimate in fantasies. And romance? Oh, yeah, her cowboy provided that and then some. He’d quite literally swept her off her feet.

If it had ended right there on that blanket by the pond, she’d be seeing stars and singing operettas. But it hadn’t. It ended with him telling her it had been nothing more than an afternoon’s fling.

Not exactly what a girl hoped to hear after giving a guy her virginity.

She hadn’t expected a declaration of love. Hadn’t
wanted
a declaration of love. But she would have preferred he wait a bit to spell things out. She could have wished for a little less reality so soon.

“Hey, Annie.” Cash came up behind her, startling her. Shadow nickered.

Hand on her heart, Annelise turned to Cash. “You need something?”

“Thought maybe you’d like to grab some dinner together tonight.”

Oh, yes. She’d love that. Her heart whipped into fifth gear. But she couldn’t. This man was dangerous to her equilibrium, and she needed to remember that. It might be best for everyone if she made the trip to Dallas for the fund-raiser, then kept right on going, back to Boston and her life there.

The thought made her unbelievably sad.

“I’m sorry, Cash, but I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both, actually.”

He cleared his throat. “Look, I know you’re mad at me.” He kicked at the bottom of one of the stalls. “And you have every right to be.”

“This isn’t about you. Not everything is.”

“Ouch.” He shook his fingers as if burned.

“What? I hurt those delicate feelings?” She shrugged. “So sorry.”

“Yeah, you look like it.”

“That phone call? It was from Oliver. He arranged a meeting with Ms. Hanson for this afternoon. I need to drive over to Lone Tree.”

“You want to borrow my truck?”

She shook her head. “I’ll take the bike. It’s not that far.” She met his eyes. “It’ll give me some time to clear my head.”

From the look on his face, he understood. He’d taken a magical moment this afternoon and destroyed it with his careless words, his poor timing. She’d given him something precious, something she’d held on to for so long. And he’d taken that gift and smashed it.

But she’d learned a valuable lesson. She certainly understood the power of sex now. Why people, sensible people, did stupid, stupid things for it. And she’d no doubt learned that lesson at the hands of a master.

Today hadn’t only been about sex for her. She’d waited a long time for the right person. She’d believed Cash was that person. She’d been wrong.

Oh, she wouldn’t fool herself into believing he wouldn’t be up for another romp or two with her. But from now on, it had to be strictly business between them.

His gaze searched hers. Finally, he said, “All right. If there’s anything I can do, let me know. I understand how important this is to you.”

He turned and started to walk away, then swung back around to her. “Annie, about today—”

“It’s okay, Cash. We’re two consenting adults. Nothing happened today that either of us didn’t want. We both participated. It’s okay,” she repeated.

With a nod, he stuffed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and walked away. His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his shirt pocket as he stepped into the Texas sunshine.

She put away her grooming tools, gave Shadow and Moonshine some water and a handful of oats each, then went into the tiny bathroom in the back to freshen up. No sense going home. She’d leave from here.

Cash and her feelings for him, whatever they were, had to be put on the back burner. She had something more important to focus on.

Thelma Hanson.

Did she hold the key to their futures? To her grandfather’s health? She’d soon find out.

Reaching for her helmet, Annelise turned when Vivi’s little red sports car pulled up behind her. She watched as Vivi hopped out, her dress more suitable for a Vegas casino than a stable.

“Hey, Annie, I was hoping to catch you before you left for the day. I’ve come to do you a favor.”

Knowing how Cash felt about his
grandmother
and having witnessed her hands-on approach to him at Bubba’s, Annelise went instantly on guard. She hooked the helmet back over the sissy bar. “Really?”

“Really.” Her short skirt riding up her thighs, Vivi tiptoed across the dirt patch. “I don’t expect you and me’s ever gonna be BFFs or anything like that, but still…” She shrugged. “I hate to see you hurt.”

“Who’s going to hurt me?”

“Cash. I saw you two ride in this afternoon. He took you to the pond, didn’t he?”

Annelise felt as if she’d been slapped.

“He’s playin’ you like a fine fiddle, honey. And while he’s doin’ that, he’s playin’ with me, too. In bed. And I gotta tell you, he’s makin’ me sing.”

Annelise’s heart stuttered, stopped, kicked into overdrive. She said nothing. Couldn’t.

Vivi rubbed her shiny red nails over the skirt of her dress. “You thought the pond was special to you and him, didn’t you? That you were the first he’d taken there?”

When she remained quiet, Vivi laughed. “You did. What a shame. You should have known better. I mean, do you honestly believe an uptight, straitlaced girl like you could keep a man like Cash happy?”

Vivi stared at her, unblinking. “You can’t compete with me, Annie. I’m a showgirl, through and through. I know how to give one hell of a performance, earn a standing ovation, if you get my drift.”

Her eyes turned hard. “You can’t give him what he needs. Cash is mine. Don’t let me catch you poaching on my territory again.”

With that, she scooted into her little red car, backed out onto the drive, and roared away.

Annelise watched her go, her mind reeling. By the pond, what she and Cash shared had seemed so right. She’d never, ever expected to come close to what she’d felt this afternoon.

Cash had told her he’d never taken another woman there. She wanted to believe him. But Vivi knew about the lake. She sounded credible.

One of them was lying to her. Which one?

Self-doubt reared its ugly head. She was a novice.

Cash wasn’t.

Maybe she
had
left him wanting. She chewed her lip and watched the dust cloud grow behind Vivi. He
had
warned her not to harbor expectations. Business, she reminded herself. She had to keep it business with him. Nothing more.

Hank stepped out of the barn, and she jumped. “Hank. I didn’t see you.”

“Nope, don’t imagine you did.” He spat a stream of tobacco juice onto the ground. “Probably ain’t none of my business, and I’ll apologize right up front for eavesdroppin’, but that woman Leo got mixed up with upset you, and I’m not gonna stand back and let her get away with it. No, sirree.”

“I have to go.” She blinked quickly, praying she could hold back the tears. “I have to meet someone in Lone Tree.”

“Understood,” he said gruffly. “But you’ll take a minute first.” His tone broached no argument.

“I didn’t catch everything she said, but whatever it was, you’d do best not to believe her. I don’t especially like to speak ill of anyone, but that woman is plain evil. She’s hurt a lot of people with her lies and deceit.”

Annelise wanted to believe him, but truth? What Cash did with Vivi wasn’t likely to be something he’d broadcast. Hank really had no way of knowing what went on between Vivi and Cash behind closed doors.

Or at the pond.

“Thanks, Hank. I appreciate it.”

“You think on what I’ve said.” He turned and disappeared back into the shadows of the barn.

She rode off, remembering a short story she’d read in high school. “The Lady or The Tiger?” The accused had to decide between two doors to determine his guilt or innocence. If he chose the tiger’s door, he’d be torn to bits. If the lady stood behind the door, he lived but had to marry her even if his heart was elsewhere.

It all came down to trusting your instincts.

More and more, she was coming to understand that. She had to make her own choices. Had to trust herself and her own instincts about people.

She could make business decisions all day long without the slightest hesitation. But when it came to personal? She lacked confidence. And it was lowering to admit that. Barely able to decide on a paint color, how could she decide what to do about Cash?

She wanted to trust. Wanted Hank to be telling the truth.

But after today, could she?

T
he drive to Lone Tree had seemed endless the first time Annelise made it. Today, it was endless times ten. Between the possibility of finding her aunt and the hurtful words Vivi’d tossed out, she was on overload. Excitement, nerves, uncertainty, and dread—all raced through her like a dog trying to catch his tail, playing havoc with her emotions.

First things first, though. She mentally shoved Vivi and Cash into a dark, dusty corner of her mind. Rethinking that, she stuck them in opposite corners. Now she’d concentrate on her grandfather.

She felt like kicking herself. This was the reason she’d come to Texas, this quest for her grandfather’s sister. His life depended on it. Yet now that she had an actual lead, she found herself reluctant to open that proverbial can of worms. Who knew what she might uncover at the bottom?

Fate, though, stepped in. As luck would have it, Thelma had decided to stop into the Cowboy Grill for lunch today. Oliver, acting as Annelise’s patron saint, explained as much as he knew to the town’s longtime resident and had actually set up a meet.

No going back. The die had been cast.

Annelise swung her Harley into the passing lane and around a slow-moving cattle truck out of self-defense. Following it on her bike in a hundred degrees made for quite the odiferous ride. One she could happily live without.

As she slid in front of the truck, her mind veered back to her grandfather. His remission was temporary; his only hope rested in a bone marrow transplant. A half sister could very well carry the cure for Grandpa’s leukemia. A permanent cure.

So, the big question. The one that haunted her and kept her awake at night. Why didn’t her grandfather want this woman found? Annelise couldn’t begin to count the times she’d asked herself—and him—that question. He’d told her it didn’t concern her. And that, to his way of thinking, ended the discussion.

Well, as far as she was concerned, it was far from over. The reason didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except restoring his health. If there was even the smallest chance this mystery woman was a match, Annelise was determined to find her.

Once she did, well, she’d tackle that problem when she got to it. One step at a time.

Annelise prayed her meeting with Ms. Hanson would bring results. She didn’t know how much longer she could stay on at Whispering Pines. She could simply walk away from the job. It had been a cover, a reason to stay in town. She didn’t need that anymore, did she?

Pulling into a parking space, she rubbed at a spot on her chest. The idea of saying good-bye to Cash hurt. In a short time, he’d wormed his way into her life.

Too bad she hadn’t done the same with him.

She drew up short. Long-term between herself and Cash? It couldn’t happen. He was so right. Neither could live permanently in the other’s world.

Yanking off her helmet, she swung her leg over the bike. Putting three quarters into the parking meter, she set out across the street.

Since she had time to burn, she’d check out the dress store she’d spotted on her last trip. The hand-painted, flamboyant calligraphy script on the front window read
Maggie’s
. Annelise didn’t hesitate. Lone Tree wasn’t Fifth Avenue, but who knew?

The instant she walked through the door, she fell in love. Somebody with a real eye for fashion and design had pulled this place together. The store didn’t shout small town. It didn’t even whisper it.

White lace curtains hung at the windows. Sunlight poured through them and formed sugar-frost patterns on the deep brown carpet underfoot. Soft, pale pink walls, their crown moldings the same chocolate brown as the floor, welcomed her.

Clothing, shoes, and accessories spilled over the interior in what Annelise realized was a very well-planned, but totally random-looking design. Lingerie tumbled from the open drawers of an antique dresser. Jewel-toned perfume bottles scattered across the surface of the beautiful oak piece.

A drop-dead gorgeous redhead stepped from a backroom. A magnificent scarlet and purple swingy top and pencil-thin black pants set off a model-perfect figure and face. Not what Annelise thought to find in Lone Tree, Texas. She’d have put down money the owner would turn out to be Dottie’s look-alike cousin.

The redhead sent Annelise a wide, open smile. “Hi. Welcome to Maggie’s.”

“Thank you. Your store is wonderful. Not at all what I expected.” She cringed inwardly. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay.” The redhead laughed. “Lone Tree doesn’t exactly lend itself to a Madison Avenue mood, does it?”

“No. I’m afraid those weren’t the vibes I picked up when I drove down Main Street.”

Walking to her, hand extended, the redhead said, “I’m Maggie.”

“Hi, Maggie. I’m Annie. This shop is adorable. I saw it when I was in town yesterday. Since I couldn’t get in then, and I’m here for an appointment and have some extra time, I thought I’d stop by.”

“Glad you did.” Maggie looked around her, out the front window. “Is that your Harley?”

Annelise nodded.

“Oh, wow. I saw it parked there yesterday. Must be fun to ride, huh?”

“It is that.”

“Scary?”

“Only at first. Once you get the hang of it, there’s nothing like it. Maybe I can take you for a ride someday.”

“That would be great!”

“Speaking of great.” Annelise turned back to the clothes. She fingered a dress in a rich red, black slashes streaking almost haphazardly across the bodice. “This is fantastic. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“I hope not.” Maggie’s soft laughter accompanied her words. “It’s one of my designs.”

Annelise looked away from the dress, met the other woman’s gaze. “Seriously?”

“Yep. I designed it, then ran it up on my sewing machine in the back.” She nodded to the room she’d come from. “My studio.” She grimaced. “Someday, if I’m very, very lucky, I’ll be able to afford something bigger. More workable.”

A dreamy smile lit her face. “In New York City, the center of the universe.”

Annelise grinned, then studied the dress closer. The work was impeccable, the design clever. “Are all the ones on this wall yours?”

Maggie nodded.

Annelise moved from one to another, then another, amazed at what she’d stumbled upon. Maggie’s work could put any of the big name designers to shame.

And wouldn’t you know it? Her smile grew. She needed a dress, didn’t she? Something to wear to the fund-raiser. Maybe, just maybe…

Her mind working a mile a minute, she turned back to Maggie. “It so happens I’m in need of something to wear to a rather important get-together. It’s formal, though, so I need an outfit that’s a little more, I don’t know, elegant, for lack of a better word.” She waved toward the wall.

“When do you need it?”

“Ah.” Annelise arched her brows. “And there’s the rub. I need it day after tomorrow.”

“Well, Ms. Annie, why don’t you come on in the back with me. I’ve got a couple more elaborate designs I’ve been toying with. Problem is, nobody around here wears dresses like them.” She took a few seconds, let her eyes run the length of Annie, taking in her jeans, T-shirt, and scuffed cowboy boots.

“I know. I don’t look the part of some fancy socialite. I’m—” She hesitated, not sure how to explain what she was doing here in Texas. “I’m only here for a little while. While I am, I’m doing some work at Whispering Pines.”

“Really? For Cash Hardeman?”

“Yes.” Surprised, Annelise asked, “Do you know him?”

“Know him? I practically grew up with him. I used to live in Maverick Junction, and I graduated from high school there. Pops, my grandpa, lives here in Lone Tree. Now that he’s getting on and Granny passed away, we didn’t want him living alone. So, I moved here to be with him. I get free rent, which lets me spend more on fabrics, and he gets company and somebody to cook and clean for him.” She held out her hands. “So far, so good.”

It really was a small world, Annelise thought.

“Cash is a good man,” Maggie said.

“Yes. Yes, he is.” Annelise’s throat tightened at the thought of that good man. Of his kisses. A good man and an honest one. He didn’t intend to lead her on—even if she might want him to.

The thing at his house after? Well, they’d both gotten carried away. Again. The chemistry between them was explosive.

She followed Maggie through the doorway into the backroom, and Annelise felt as though she’d stepped into another world. Oh, yes, this was definitely where Maggie created. Where the magic happened. A huge table, strewn with fabrics, zippers, and sketches, backed against a brick wall. On the end wall, a sewing machine sat, the unrestored wood floor littered with pieces of fabric and thread clippings.

“Sorry for the mess. Didn’t expect company back here today.”

“Don’t worry. I find this fascinating.”

Maggie plucked a drawing from a bulletin board that hung over the large table. “This is the one. It’s perfect for your build. It would look great on you.”

“Oh!” Annelise traced a finger over the dress’s silhouette. It was a study in contrast. The gown, diaphanous and flowing, bared one shoulder. Maggie had combined it with a very tailored short-sleeve jacket. It should have been an impossible pairing. It shouldn’t work. Yet it did.

“What did you use for the fabric?”

“Nothing. Yet.” Maggie grinned. “This one hasn’t come out of the drawing stage. It’s still incubating.”

“Oh.” Disappointment shot through Annelise. Maggie was right-on. The dress would have been perfect for the fund-raiser.

“I thought I’d use an ivory-colored organza with an under layer of silk in the same color. For the jacket, I’d keep it entirely sheer. Maybe a single crystal-covered button.” She rummaged in a bright pink plastic bin. “Like this one.” She held out the fastener.

“I love it.” Annelise leaned a hip on the table. “If only I’d found you sooner.”

“I can make it tonight.”

“What?”

“If you really do want it, and you’re not just being polite, I can put it together for you tonight—after I close up.”

“Honest?” Delight danced in Annelise.

“Honest.”

“But, can you get the material?”

Maggie stepped to another door, made a come-here gesture. Annelise followed her into a smaller room that looked like an old pantry. Its wooden shelves overflowed with bolts of fabric.

Maggie walked straight to one and drew it out, laying it on an old drop-leaf. “This is the one I thought I’d use for the jacket and overlayment.” She rooted around till she found what she wanted and pulled another bolt loose. “This would go underneath for the dress itself.”

“Perfect.”

“You’re sure?” Maggie asked.

“The real question is yours. Do you really think you can do this so quickly?”

“One-hundred percent positive.” She started to say something, stopped. Then, eyes on Annie’s, she said, “You haven’t asked the cost.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What?” A startled giggle escaped her. “Of course it matters.”

“Okay. So it matters. Give me your price.”

Maggie debated, pulled a pencil from her mass of red curls, and began figuring on a scrap of paper she dug from her pocket. She winced. “I don’t know. This might be too high. What do you think?” She turned the paper so Annie could read it.

Annelise skimmed the figures. “I think it’s highway robbery.”

Maggie paled. “You do?”

“Unquestionably. If I took this dress for that amount of money, I’d be stealing it from you. Maggie, it’s worth four times this.”

The redhead said nothing, simply stared at her, lips parted.

“Maggie?”

“Yeah. It’s…well, I don’t ever remember a customer telling me I wasn’t charging enough.”

“Well, you’re not. How about I pay you three times this number?” She tapped a nail on the paper. “Then we’ll both feel we’ve done right by each other.”

“Did Cash take you in from a rest home or an insane asylum?”

Annelise laughed. “Neither. But the simple truth is that I know fashion. I also recognize genius and great work when I see it. You’ve got both in your clothes, and you deserve more from them. If you want, you can call the extra money a bonus for the rush I’ve put on the job.”

Maggie still hesitated.

“I won’t buy the dress unless you meet my price,” Annelise said.

“This is nuts.” Maggie chuckled. “Okay, if you insist.”

“I do.”

“Then I need some measurements.”

Annelise checked her watch. She had enough time to do this and still be on time for Ms. Hanson.

They’d barely finished when the bell over the front door tinkled.

Buttoning her blouse, Annelise said, “Go ahead. Take care of your customer. I’ll be right out.”

Maggie opened the door. “Pops, what a great surprise. I didn’t know you were coming into town today.”

“Oh, I needed a couple things from the hardware store. Thought I’d fix that sticky faucet in the hall bath.”

Annelise stepped out and smiled at the tall, slightly stooped white-haired gentleman wrapped in Maggie’s hug. His weathered face smiled back at her. She noticed he had the same moss-green eyes as Maggie.

“Pops, this is Annie. Annie, my grandpa, Fletcher Sullivan. Annie’s ordered one of my evening gown designs.”

“That right?” He walked to her and extended his hand. “Good for you, young lady. You got good taste.”

“Your granddaughter is extremely talented. I haven’t seen anything better during fashion week in Paris.” She could have bitten her tongue off the instant the words were out.

“You’ve been to fashion week? In Paris?” Maggie practically squealed. “Oh, my gosh, tell me all about it.”

Annelise shrugged. “Not that big a deal.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Tell you what. When I come back for my dress, I’ll share some gossip. Right now, though, I’ve got to run. I cannot be late.”

“Where you rushing off to?” her grandfather asked.

“I have an appointment, Mr. Sullivan.”

“Call me Fletch.”

She nodded.

“An appointment? Here in Lone Tree?”

“Yes.” She debated how much to say, then realized it didn’t really matter. By morning the entire town would know she and Thelma Hanson had talked. These small communities were a breed unto themselves.