You and Only You (13 page)

* * *

T. J. was finished with the repairs. His stuff was packed up, and he was sitting near the edge of the roof waiting to be rescued when he saw a car coming down the driveway. The girls had come through for him in a big way. He breathed a huge sigh of relief and waved.

When the driver pulled the car up to the edge of the yard and got out, the last person he expected to see was Rachel Goodhope. He didn’t know whether to look at this as a windfall or a huge embarrassment.

“Hi!” Rachel said as she hurried across the yard. “Who knew I would get to return the favor so soon?” she yelled.

“I sure appreciate this,” T. J. shouted back.

“Give me a sec,” Rachel said, and began manhandling the huge ladder.

She dragged it over to the house, then finally got it in the air and leaning up against the roof.

“Hang on to the end, and I’ll pull it out to a better angle,” she yelled.

T. J. waved to let her know that he’d heard and grabbed hold of both sides. As she’d promised, she pulled it back until it was at a good, sturdy angle, then got beneath it and grabbed hold with both hands.

“Climb down now. I won’t let go!” she yelled.

T. J. swung a leg over and then went down backward, his tool belt bumping against the rungs as he went. The moment his feet touched hard ground, he breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“Lord have mercy! I sure appreciate that,” he said, and turned around to shake her hand.

Rachel eyed his hand, then looked up at him and smiled.

T. J.’s heart skipped a beat. “Uh…”

“How grateful are you?” Rachel drawled.

T. J. grinned. “As grateful as you want me to be.”

Rachel eyed the house. “I’d love to see what you’ve done with the place.”

Hot
damn.
“I’d be delighted to show it to you.”

“Can I see it all?” Rachel asked.

It was all T. J. could do to keep his pants zipped until he got inside.

“You can look at it for as long as you want.”

“I don’t have much time,” Rachel said. “This time it’ll have to be a hit and run. Maybe another time I can inspect it much closer.”

T. J. led the way inside and locked the door behind them.

Rachel heard the click and turned around, her eyes narrowing seductively. Before he could move, she started to strip.

“Oh Lord,” he whispered, and dropped his tool belt.

He kicked off his work boots and shucked out of his jeans, then realized how stupid he probably looked with a massive erection poking out from beneath the hem of his shirt and stripped it off, as well. He noticed the little red spots on her arms and neck, and then decided whatever she had, he’d risk catching it.

“My, my, I do so admire that,” Rachel said, as she flattened her hands across his chest, then grabbed his hand and took him toward the sofa.

It occurred to T. J. that he was probably out of his element. He was so not in charge of what was about to happen, which heightened his excitement even more.

“I don’t have all day,” Rachel said.

“I’m gonna make you wish you did,” T. J. drawled, and proceeded to push her down on the sofa and slide between her legs.

Rachel wrapped her legs around his waist and closed her eyes, determined to enjoy the ride.

Twenty minutes later, Rachel was on her way home and as smug as a barn cat with a rat in its belly. Sex with T. J. Lachlan was better than a good allover massage any day. She didn’t have a tense muscle left in her body.

She glanced at the clock and smirked. They’d done the dirty, and she’d been dressed and gone in less than fifteen minutes, with a promise to make a return trip at a later date.

What she needed was a shower to hide the sex smell on her body, but she had another idea that would solve the need for a shower and what to fix for lunch, both at the same time.

Once she got back to Blessings, she pulled into the drive-through at Charlie’s Barbecue and ordered takeout. She’d walk in smelling like barbecue and fries, and that would be that.

Only a few minutes later, she was on her way home with a sack full of barbecue and a satisfied smile on her face. She pulled into the drive and parked, then shifted into defense mode, just in case it was necessary. She walked in the house with her chin up, carrying the sack.

“Something smells good!” Bud said, as he met her in the hall.

“I stopped at Charlie’s on the way home and brought barbecue. After the fiasco at breakfast, I wasn’t in the mood to cook another meal.”

“Good idea,” Bud said, and watched as she began taking things out of the sack. “Looks like we’ll need plates and forks. Did you get extra sauce, or do I need to get ours out of the fridge?”

“I got extra,” she said, and together they got their meal on the plates.

She was carrying them to the table, and Bud was right behind her with their drinks. When she sat down to eat, she flipped her hair back behind her ears.

Bud looked up and then frowned.

“Hey! You’re missing an earring.”

Rachel gasped. “Oh no! Those are my diamond studs!”

She felt her ears and then moaned.

Bud’s suspicious nature kicked into gear.

“So what were you doing out at that house to make you lose a goddamned earring?”

Rachel’s eyes widened in disbelief and then narrowed angrily.

“I cannot believe you just said that!”

“I said it, and I’d be interested in your answer.”

Before she could open her mouth, their phone rang. Bud got up to answer, stomping his feet with every stride that he took.

“Hello. Goodhope Bed-and-Breakfast.”

“Mr. Goodhope?”

“Yes?”

“Hey, nice to meet you, sir. My name is T. J. Lachlan. Mrs. Goodhope was just out at my place to rescue me off my roof.”

Bud was surprised the man was actually calling their house.

“Yes, I heard,” he said shortly.

“Well, the reason I’m calling is that I just found a diamond earring outside when I went to put up the rest of my extra shingles. It was near where the ladder had fallen, and I guessed it might be hers. Would you ask her if she’s missing one?”

Bud’s stomach knotted. He knew before he opened his mouth that he was about to eat a butt-load of crow.

“Yes, she’s already missed it,” Bud said.

“Well then. I’m so glad I found it. I’m on my way into Blessings in a few minutes to go by the lumberyard and pick up some lumber to repair my tool shed. I’d be happy to drop it by your bed-and-breakfast.”

“That would be great. I’m sure she’ll be grateful. Thank you for calling.”

“My pleasure, sir. Nice talking to you.”

Bud hung up. When he turned around, Rachel was glaring.

“Uh…that was the Lachlan guy. Said he found your earring outside where the ladder was. He’s bringing it by shortly.”

Rachel stabbed a french fry and poked it in her mouth without answering.

Bud sat back down and reached for her arm, but she snatched it away.

“I’m sorry, Rachel. I guess I just got jealous.”

“You guess? You guess?” She rolled her eyes. “What I’d like to know is why? I have
never
done a single thing to give you reason to distrust me, and you know it.”

Bud was crestfallen and it showed. “I do know. I’m sorry. I said I’m sorry, and I don’t know what else to say.”

“Do me a big favor and don’t say anything,” Rachel said, then proceeded to add a little salt to her ribs and dug into them like a field hand.

The phone rang again.

“I’ll get it,” Bud muttered and once again strode over to the phone to answer. “Goodhope Bed-and-Breakfast.”

“Hey, Bud, this is Ruby, down at The Curl Up and Dye.”

“Hi, Ruby.”

Rachel glanced up, suddenly curious why Ruby Dye would be calling her home.

“The reason I called is that I found the back of an earring on the floor beneath my chair and I’m thinking it might be Rachel’s. It looks as if it might be real gold, and I know she has some nice jewelry. I actually swept it up with the hair I trimmed. Ask her if she’s missing one.”

Bud sighed. “She is.”

“Great! Tell her I’ve already put it in an envelope for safekeeping and the next time she’s downtown to stop by and pick it up.”

“Yes, I’ll do that,” Bud said. “Thanks for calling.”

He hung up, then looked at his wife and sighed.

“What?” Rachel asked.

“Ruby found the back of your earring at her shop. Next time you’re downtown, she said stop by and pick it up.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Well, that explains how I lost the earring to begin with, now, doesn’t it?”

Bud nodded. “What can I say?”

“Nothing. You’ve already said enough,” Rachel said, then got up with her nose in the air. “I’m exhausted. What with the fire, then the trip to the beauty shop, then out to wrestle that damn ladder up a two-story house, I’m going to take a nap. When Mr. Lachlan stops by with my earring, try not to make a bigger ass of yourself than you already are.”

Bud’s cheeks flushed angrily. “You don’t have to be hateful.”

“And you didn’t have to act like a green-eyed fool.”

She strode past him with her nose in the air.

A few moments later, Bud heard her slam the door to their bedroom. He sighed, then sat back down and ate his food in silence while Rachel got in the shower and washed the smell of sex off her skin.

When T. J. Lachlan showed up about thirty minutes later, the sight of him didn’t make Bud any happier. The man was fifteen years younger than him, at least six inches taller, thirty pounds lighter, and good-looking. Bud wanted to punch him on general principle, but the man was polite and all business. He introduced himself, invited Bud out to the house for a beer any time he was in the neighborhood, dropped off the earring, and drove away.

Rachel was watching from her upstairs window. T. J. handled that like a pro, which made her realize he probably was. He was too good at sex and too smooth of an operator not to have been in this position before. What was it he’d said to her when she was taking her leave? Oh yes…he’d told her not to worry about a thing, and that he’d been shot at in rosebushes before. She sighed, hoping she hadn’t bitten off more than she was willing to chew. T. J. Lachlan was just for fun. Someone like Mike Dalton was for keeps.

* * *

Four days later

Saturdays were always busy, but this one was crazy. It was the last weekend before Thanksgiving, and everyone was out and about, running errands and stocking up. Unless there was an emergency need for medicine, the pharmacy would be closed Thanksgiving Day.

Mitchell was already at work. She overheard him talking to an elderly lady about cats, and after the lady left, Lily picked up the conversation.

“Hey, Mitchell. Did I hear you tell Mrs. Bolliver that you had a cat?”

Mitchell nodded. “Yeah, her name is Cleopatra. I am her servant and that is all. If she’s in a good mood, she lets me pet her.”

Lily smiled. “That’s funny. I didn’t know you had a cat. You never talked about her before.”

Mitchell shrugged. “You never asked me about that stuff before. So, you can go to lunch now,” he said, and went back to facing an aisle.

Lily sighed. It was true. She’d worked with Mitchell for more than seven years and never once asked him a personal question. Proof again that she’d been living in a vacuum.

She exited out the back door. Mike’s car was parked behind the fitness center. He still wasn’t allowed to lift anything, but he was getting stronger every day, or so she heard through the grapevine. She wouldn’t know because they were still at odds.

She pulled the collar of her coat up around her neck and put her head down as she walked into the wind. She had a destination in mind and a task that needed to be done. The sooner she got it over with, the better.

About four blocks down, she heard what was becoming a familiar sound—the rumble of T. J. Lachlan’s hot-rod truck. When she got to the end of the block, she had to wait for traffic to pass, part of which was him and his truck.

She wouldn’t look and was no longer sure she cared what he thought. As luck would have it, the old lady in the car in front of him stopped to wave LilyAnn across the street.

She lowered her head and moved quickly across the intersection in long, hurried strides.

A few minutes later, she was at All Saints Cemetery. She walked through the gates with purpose, heading straight for Randy Joe’s final resting place.

The newly turned earth beside Ina Gerty’s tombstone was a reminder of Mr. Gerty’s recent demise, but there was no need to worry about him any longer. His troubles were over.

She glanced at it once, somewhat surprised his given name had been Joaquin, which set her to wondering what on earth would possess a woman to name a child Joaquin with a last name like Gerty. Definitely an oddity, but the world was full of them.

When she finally arrived at Randy Joe’s tombstone, it dawned on her that this was the first time in eleven years she’d come without flowers. Maybe it was just as well, because her gift to him today was freedom. She was turning loose of the memory and all that came with it. Now he could be just another soul at rest.

Lily knelt down near the headstone and began sweeping the dry leaves from the grave like she always did.

“Hey, Randy Joe, it’s me. I’m on my lunch hour, have a lot to tell you and not much time, so I’ll get right to it. I’m making changes in my life, and part of it is letting go of you. I’m actually ashamed of how long I kept dragging you through my misery, but the truth is, I didn’t know what to do with you. I know that sounds stupid, but I was only eighteen and teenagers aren’t known for having all that much sense.”

A siren suddenly sounded, but it wasn’t a long, continuous whine. More like a short burst of “whup whup,” which usually meant Lonnie was signaling someone to pull over. She supposed he was about to hand out a traffic ticket, then made herself focus again on the job at hand.

“So here’s the deal, Randy Joe. I’m working on making myself over. I want to belong to someone again and I know you understand, so this is good-bye. I’m sure it’s fine with you. I’m the one who got trapped in the past. Anyway, I have my health and prospects. For a twenty-eight-year-old spinster, it’s not a bad place to start.”