by Darcy Daniel
As if things couldn’t get any worse, he grew hard. What the hell was wrong with him? Distracted, he stumbled on a raised patch of dirt and just managed to keep himself upright.
To his utter disbelief, she chuckled beside his ear. “I thought you weren’t clumsy.”
“Are you always such a pain in the ass?”
“Are you always such a grump?”
A grump? Okay, maybe at the moment. Her body pressed against his, the flowery scent coming off her damp hair, the touch of her skin slipping against his—the sensations did things to his body that went against everything he thought of this pushy, rude stranger. He had no intention of admitting that to her. Instead, he said, “When I’ve lost a crop that I was already late planting, yeah.”
“My poor Manolos. They’re ruined too.”
“What a tragedy.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I wouldn’t want to.” Why she thought he’d be interested in her precious shoes was beyond him, and exactly the sort of reason his body should behave itself.
“Oh, we’re here,” she advised, as the pressure of her arm lifted from his chest.
Great. Now he just had to keep his back to her to avoid any embarrassment. As he released her thighs, she slid against his skin, only making matters worse. He needed to get the hell away from her.
“Towels are in the cupboard to the left of the bathroom,” he said, and strode into the field as fast as his legs could carry him without actually breaking into a run.
* * *
Anthea stared at the grump as he hightailed it into the field. Apparently he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. Well, fine by her. She couldn’t wait to get away from him either. Not since his little piggyback ride had reminded her body just how much time had passed since she’d been intimate with a man. Which left her more than a little irritated.
Not at him, but at herself.
She didn’t like to be reminded of her three disastrous relationships. If they could be called relationships at all. At seventeen, she met her first love at a party. A waiter at the time, he was a handsome boy her own age and she fell for him hard. Ethan warned her that the boy was only dating her to gain publicity for himself, but she had refused to believe any such thing. Not until two months later when she was dumped for the next hot, young celebrity the media were clambering over. Refusing to be taken advantage of again, Anthea vowed she’d never date an average citizen.
A year later, Paul Beatty, her love interest on the daytime soap, convinced her that she was the one for him. Believing her heart would be safe because he had already made a name for himself, she lowered her guard. But the moment she showed him Anthea Cane, as opposed to the wicked woman she played on the soap, he dumped her. The blow to her ego had been so great that she’d added another layer of bricks to the wall around herself and begrudgingly accepted that she’d learned another important lesson: she couldn’t be herself.
After the success of the first Kick movie, feeling on top of the world, she lowered her guard one last time when handsome and charming Carson Blain wined and dined her, making her believe she was special. She soon discovered that all he wanted was to bed her screen persona, Alex Stark.
It seemed she just couldn’t win when it came to dating. Men either used her for her celebrity status or fell for the characters she played. Apparently, no one wanted the real Anthea Cane.
But as she stood in the rain, she found she couldn’t take her eyes off the grump’s retreating figure. She guessed his height to be about six-three, thought it was his strength that caught her attention. A strength that seemed different from the men she’d worked with. They pumped iron in the gym and worked with personal trainers and dieticians. But the grump’s wide shoulders and muscular body came from good old-fashioned physical labor, which the evidence proved, worked a treat.
And those eyes. Such a deep, intense green. A green that seemed faintly familiar, though she couldn’t quite grasp why.
Anthea shook her head. What was she doing? She should be worried about her ruined Manolos and designer dress.
Shivering against the cool breeze and cold rain, she looked down at herself. When she’d first noticed the thin material of her dress becoming transparent, she’d been mortified. Until she remembered the grump couldn’t see. And now, after his piggyback ride, the material bunched around her in unsightly wrinkles. She definitely couldn’t arrive on Karin’s doorstep looking like this.
As she pivoted toward her car, she gasped. Dents littered the body and the shredded soft-top flapped in the wind.
This little trip to Mayfield was getting better by the minute.
Grateful the windshield remained intact, she climbed into the car, drove along the road and pulled into the long gravel driveway that led to the quaint sandstone house. Halfway along, Anthea found her attention drawn to the plantation of ten-foot high trees swaying in the wind to her right. Their enormous heart-shaped leaves collected rain, then dipped to release tiny waterfalls.
Closer to his residence, she noticed a huge forest of trees behind the house. These, she realized, were the adult versions of the smaller trees she just passed. Their thick, dark green foliage atop long trunks turned the forest beneath to night and, as she hauled the suitcase from the trunk, she detected a sweet, enticing scent.
Teeth chattering, she struggled up the front steps with her overpacked suitcase. Beneath the veranda’s welcome shelter, the soft patter of rain on the tin roof gave her comfort but as she approached the front door, a shadow moved. Sucking in a breath, Anthea felt her flesh break out in goose bumps. Through her rain-speckled sunglasses, she saw a chocolate Labrador emerging from the darkness. It approached and sniffed her hand.
With a nervous giggle of relief, she waved the dog away. “Shoo.” Ignoring her command, it sat and looked at her with curiosity. She had nothing against animals; she just didn’t want anything to do with them. The dog simply blinked at her with dark, soulful eyes.
Skirting the animal, Anthea opened the screen door and entered the clean and tidy house. After locking herself in the bathroom and vigorously towel drying her hair, she slipped into a fresh dress, tied a dry silk scarf over her hair and donned her sunglasses.
As she dragged her suitcase to the car, the late afternoon sun broke through the clouds in a dazzling display of gold.
Halfway along the driveway, she pressed a hand to the horn, ready to give a thank-you toot, but stopped herself. The noise might startle the big oaf. Even though he’d been far from friendly, he at least showed some country hospitality by letting her use his house to change into dry clothes. She did want to thank him, but could see by the way he yanked the saplings from the ground that any interaction with her might only aggravate him further. So she left him behind and headed for Mayfield.
Chapter Three
As Anthea drove beneath the dappled shade provided by enormous oak trees arching over Mayfield’s main street, she saw that not much had changed. Yes, a new IGA supermarket had moved in, but from what she could tell, everything else remained exactly as she remembered, including the pharmacy her father had once owned.
After a few turns along wide, familiar side streets, Anthea pulled to a stop in front of Karin’s house, hoping she still lived there, but knowing whoever did would be able to point her in the right direction.
At the front door, she knocked and waited. No one answered. She glanced at her watch. Four-thirty. No doubt Karin wouldn’t be home from work for at least another half an hour.
Deciding to wait, she headed to the car in the driveway and found herself utterly incapable of stopping her eyes from fastening onto the house across the road.
Without any memory of crossing the street, Anthea stood on the footpath in front of her childhood home. The house looked shriveled and diminished, almost as if it had shrunk beneath the flaking
paint, causing the wraparound veranda to sag slightly in one corner. But in her mind’s eye, the house appeared the same as the day she left: grand and majestic, the pristine white weatherboard clean and bright.
Overcome with nostalgia, she slipped off her shoes, stepped onto the lawn and curled her toes into the damp grass, remembering hours spent on this lawn with Karin, showing off for their mothers as they performed cartwheels and handstands.
The memories she’d successfully kept at bay since leaving Mayfield flooded back. At seven, she’d understood that the cancer would kill Mattie, but was completely unprepared for the cruelty of the disease. Then there was the shame of pretending to be sick herself to avoid going to the hospital to discover what new and horrifying way the cancer had ravaged her once-beautiful mother.
A lump formed in her throat. She did agree with her father and Ethan about one thing. Better to bury those memories than let them overwhelm her with pain.
As she started to turn toward Karin’s house, movement behind the screen door caught her attention. Her hand fluttered to her chest as déjà vu enveloped her. She was seven again, returning from a playdate with Karin. And like always, before the cancer had begun to affect her health, Mattie stood behind the screen door to make sure she crossed the road safely.
Anthea’s heart swelled.
When a girl in her late teens opened the screen door and stepped out, reality jolted her into to the present.
“Can I help you?” the girl asked.
Anthea refused to shed the tears that filled her eyes. She shook her head and backed onto the road. A car horn blared. Yelping in fright, she jumped to the curb.
Across the street, a black SUV swung into Karin’s driveway. A moment later, Karin Hayes appeared with a few shopping bags in hand and headed toward her front door. At least Anthea thought it was Karin. Only one way to find out.
She clamped down on her emotions, composing herself as she hurried across the road.
“Karin?” she called.
Karin turned, frowned.
“Surprise!” Anthea whipped off her sunglasses and scarf and threw her arms around her old friend. She couldn’t see Karin’s face, but felt the stiffness in her body. Confused, she broke off the embrace and stepped back.
Karin stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. “Anthea Cane. What on earth are you doing here?”
What sort of greeting was that? And why didn’t Karin look pleased to see her?
* * *
Anthea sat on a couch opposite Karin. Although her friend had aged twenty years, there was only one significant change. The long, sandy hair she once spent hours braiding now flattered Karin’s angular face in a cropped, practical style. And, unlike herself, Karin wore comfortable flat sandals with fashionable shorts and a pretty summer blouse.
She took a sip of the iced tea Karin provided and sighed.
“You know, it’s been so long since I’ve been back, I got lost on the way. I had to stop and ask for directions from a blind farmer, if you can believe that. Talk about cranky.”
A frown passed across Karin’s face. “Cole Daniel. You don’t remember him?”
She blinked. Did that name sound familiar?
“You used to tease him relentlessly at school,” Karin said.
Anthea tensed. “I never teased anyone, let alone a blind kid.”
“Oh, yes you did,” Karin scoffed. “Though Cole had his sight back then.”
“I don’t remember any such thing.”
“He certainly does. So do I.”
Confused, Anthea shook her head. “Are you saying I was a bully?”
“Well…I wouldn’t go that far. It was more a matter of you believing you were better than everyone else after you were in those TV commercials. But for some reason, Cole seemed to be your main target.”
Anthea’s head reeled as a flash of the scrawny boy with an unruly mop of hair and holes in his clothes came to her. Her face burned as her memory bloomed. Cole Daniel had been her first crush. A crush she hid even from her best friend for fear of being ridiculed for liking a farm boy. So to convince everyone of the opposite, she’d teased him whenever an opportunity arose.
“I…I’d forgotten all about him.”
“He’s not the only one you forgot about,” Karin said.
Anthea couldn’t miss the hurt tone in Karin’s voice, but found herself wanting to know more about Cole. “How did he lose his sight?”
“It really wouldn’t interest you. Anyway, I have to leave soon, so…”
Anthea frowned. “You did invite me to the annual fundraiser, right?”
Karin took a slow sip of her cool drink. “As the e-mail stated, we’re only in the planning stages. The actual event’s over a month away. Besides that, I really didn’t expect you to actually turn up.”
Surprised by the coldness in her friend’s voice, Anthea glanced away. “You…you didn’t want me to come?” When she looked back, Karin’s face had softened with regret.
“I’m sorry, that’s not what—I’m just…surprised you did. After all, you always hated it here, remember? You thought there was something better out there for you. I suppose you were right.”
How could she argue with that? When Brian moved them to the States, the change of scenery helped her cope with her grief, but maybe it had been too much of a change. She’d blocked out so much in order to forget those months leading up to her mother’s death—and along the way, she’d forgotten the good memories.
Glancing about the cozy, welcoming living room, she spotted a family portrait on the mantelpiece over a small fireplace. Anthea stood, walked over, plucked it up and stared at her friend’s husband and the cutest little girl she’d ever seen. She met Karin’s gaze, blinked away sudden tears that threatened to overflow.
“Looks like you found something much better right here,” she said, meaning every word.
Karin’s lips curled into a genuine smile. “We met at university. He was studying to become a teacher. And when I decided to return here to live, he followed me, proposed, and…well, we’re very happy.” Karin shrugged as she gazed at Anthea. “I guess everyone has their own dreams. He was mine. And you’ve got your career.”
Anthea nodded as she scanned the family portrait again. Yes, she had her career, but looking at Karin’s family, she wondered if that was all she’d ever have.
“I would have thought you be married and divorced a couple of times by now. That seems to be the norm in Hollywood. But you’ve never found anyone special?” Karin asked.
Anthea shook her head as she placed the photo on the mantel. Keeping her back to Karin to hide the pain on her face, she said, “It’s hard when everyone knows who you are. Men look right through the real you and only see who they want to see.”
“I guess, no matter who we are, we’ve all got problems.”
The sympathetic note in Karin’s voice almost made her burst into tears. How could she have forgotten how good it felt to have someone to confide in? She’d tried to connect with other women in L.A., but had soon discovered they didn’t care about her. What they cared about was what she could do for them, like boosting their image and getting their photos in magazines. Not one of them had ever been a genuine friend, so she’d stopped trying. Loneliness swept over her.
Turning, about to apologize to Karin for the abysmal way she’d handled their childhood friendship after moving away, she saw Karin check her watch and rise.
“Well, I’m sorry to cut this short, but I really need to get going.”
“No,” Anthea blurted, not wanting to leave right when she was rediscovering their long-forgotten connection. “I mean, there’s another reason I’m here besides the fundraiser. There’s a role I want to research. I need to know what it’s like to live on the land, to be the wife of a farmer. I thought you might
be able to suggest someone who wouldn’t mind having me follow them around for a few weeks. Someone discreet, who can keep a secret. I don’t want everyone knowing I’m here. At least not while I’m doing my research.”
Karin’s eyes widened in a look bordering on fear, and then she laughed. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll show you.” Karin hurried from the room and returned a moment later with a shopping bag. From its depths, she removed a tabloid magazine and placed it face up on the coffee table.
Anthea stared at the cover in horror. There she was at the premiere of A Kick to the Heart, leaning in close to Marshall Brand. It must have been taken at the moment she’d excused herself. But the photo made it look like she was flirting with him. And the headline did everything it could to make sure that’s what the whole world believed. Anthea Cane Has Affair with Married Producer.
This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Not when she wanted to be taken seriously by not just the public, but Jason Trent and everyone involved in bringing The Farmer’s Wife to the screen.
As she stared at the cover with a growing sense of dread, Karin said, “All the farmers around here are married. I really don’t think their wives would be too happy having their husbands followed by a movie-star bombshell with a reputation, do you?”
She managed to raise her head and meet Karin’s eyes. “You believe this rubbish? I was excusing myself, trying to get away from that sleaze. It’s all lies. It always has been.”
Karin’s eyes narrowed in uncertainty. “I had wondered, but what was I supposed to believe? I haven’t seen you in twenty years. Not one word in all that time. You knew where to find me, but I had no idea where to find you. I even had to contact Ethan just to get your e-mail address.” A flush crept over her face.
Anthea stilled as she pushed her own annoyance aside. Karin was angry with her, and anger usually came from one of two places. Fear or pain. Since Karin had nothing to fear, she must be in pain. After all these years, Karin was hurt because Anthea had left and forgotten about her.