Somebody Like You

by Lynnette Austin

  She looked a mess, and she knew it. While she’d been in the bathroom, she’d caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over her sink. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks flushed.

  Not trusting herself, she pulled away. “It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Your grandfather? Is he worse?”

  The concern in his voice was her undoing. Her heart, which she’d thought broken before, crumbled in a thousand shards.

  “No. Not that I know.”

  “She won’t help you.”

  “No.” Despite her best intentions, the tears started again. “She’s going to let him die.”

  He pulled her in, buried her face in his chest, and held her tightly. “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

  Between sobs, she said, “She’s going to let him die. She won’t even get tested.”

  “How about if I go talk to her?”

  And he would. He would do that for her. That knowledge only made her cry harder. She was going to lose them both, her grandpa and Cash.

  “Annie, I don’t know what to say. What to do.”

  “Don’t say anything at all. Make love to me, Cash.”

  “Annie—”

  “Please.”

  “I should say no, but I can’t.” He carried her into the bedroom, then stopped. “What’s this?”

  She’d forgotten. Clothes were strewn across the bed, some folded, some tossed haphazardly. She couldn’t tell him she was leaving. Not yet.

  Double standard? Yes. She’d been angry because he hadn’t told her everything, and now she was holding back. Again.

  She’d tell him later. Why ruin today for him any more than she already had?

  “I decided to clean my closet.” With a sweep of her hand, she brushed the clothes to the floor.

  About to argue the point, he gave up when she closed the distance between them and kissed him. All the passion, all the hurt, the anger, the need, poured from her to him.

  Within minutes, their clothes joined the ones scattered across the floor. Naked, they fell to her bed. She needed one last time.

  Cash didn’t disappoint.

  *

  Freshly bathed, hair brushed and makeup reapplied, and dressed in a pair of Sadler store bargain-barrel shorts and an Armani original top she’d brought with her, Annelise walked down the stairs ahead of Cash. The back door to Dottie’s opened, and Rufus stepped out.

  “Ms. Montjoy.” He nodded. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. I’ve decided to go to the barbecue after all.” After a moment, she said, “You know, while we’re here, I’d prefer you and Silas call me Annie.”

  Rufus looked almost offended. “Ms. Montjoy—”

  “Annie. Otherwise the two of you will stick out like a sore thumb. We don’t want to call any more attention to you than we need to. Right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “Everyone here knows me as Annie.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He shuffled a foot. “Ms. Willis is ready to leave for the party. Do you mind if we give her a ride?”

  “Not at all.” Annelise stopped, looked at the Caddy, at Staubach waiting patiently in the backseat, his tongue lolling out. She turned to Cash. “She could ride with us.”

  “You feeling the need for a chaperone again? Kind of late for that, don’t you think?”

  Mortified, she shot a quick glance at Rufus.

  “Yes, she can.” Cash chuckled. “Let me run in, see if she needs help with anything.”

  He came out carrying a platter of cookies with Dottie trailing in his wake. Today she wore hot-pink capris and a pink and white polka-dotted blouse. Pink sandals sporting huge rhinestones finished off her outfit.

  “You look wonderful, Dottie.”

  “You don’t look half-bad yourself, sweetie. That top is the exact color of your eyes.” Dottie studied her, then Cash. “You looked awfully pale when you came home this morning, Annie, but I see you got your color back.”

  A blaze of heat rushed from her toes to the top of her head. Cash threw his head back and laughed till she elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Ouch! Careful, darlin’. Don’t want to make me drop the dessert.”

  “I’ll dessert you,” she muttered.

  He leaned in close and whispered, “I think you already did.”

  Deciding discretion was, indeed, the better part of valor, she slunk off to the car.

  *

  Things were in full swing when they pulled into the yard, and Annelise was suddenly very glad she’d come. She said a prayer of thanks that Cash had driven to her apartment to collect her, then a second one that she’d have today with him and all these others who’d come to mean so much to her.

  Determined to make the most of this gift, Annelise fought to put her hurt aside. She hadn’t saved her grandfather. She hadn’t won Cash’s heart. And so hers would ache. But for today, she’d do her best to ignore it.

  Forcing a smile, she helped Dottie out of the backseat. Staubach bounded out after her.

  Some of the hands had thrown together a band, and the music practically flowed from their fiddles, guitars, and a rather beat-up drum set. Paco, showing off a remarkably good voice, stood in an old hay wagon pressed into service as a stage and sang about cheating hearts. A few couples two-stepped on the makeshift dance floor they’d created the day before.

  Neighbors and friends came up to them as they made their way with the cookies to several tables already groaning under the weight of the delicious-smelling food Rosie and the girls had prepared.

  No one should go hungry, Annelise thought, even as a calorie counter cranked up in her mind.

  Some of the townspeople nodded at her but seemed hesitant to approach. Even Cash introduced her with more deference than he had in the past.

  “See,” she hissed. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you about my so-called pedigree sooner. Don’t treat me any differently than you did before you knew who my grandfather was. I’m the same woman who’s been mucking out your stalls.”

  “The hell you are.”

  She put a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, I am.”

  “Fine. You are.”

  Austin, his nephew, ran up to him, a football cradled in his arms. “Throw me some, Uncle Cash?”

  “You bet.”

  She sat down on one of the hay bales, her foot tapping to the beat of a Trace Adkins song. Her heart beat way too fast. Seeing Cash surrounded by his family, she realized how small hers was. If she lost her grandfather…Melancholy settled over her again.

  She’d hoped against hope to stumble across her before-unaccounted-for aunt. She had. She’d prayed that aunt could save her grandfather. She wouldn’t.

  And Cash. He’d be furious come this time tomorrow when he realized she’d skipped town.

  Well, it couldn’t be helped. There was no other way. She couldn’t stay knowing she loved him, that he couldn’t love her back. And she needed to spend whatever time was left with Grandpa.

  Her head jerked up as a new voice joined the band. Deep and rich. Cash stood on stage in front of the mic, singing about the wonder of love.

  She couldn’t bear to listen. Standing, she wandered over to the horses. Several of them had been decorated for the Fourth with red, white, and blue ribbons braided into their manes and tails. Blankets made to look like the American flag draped over their backs. Old Molly even wore an Uncle Sam hat perched jauntily between her ears.

  A couple of the hands were giving kids horseback rides, and parents with cameras stood by the board fence capturing it all for posterity.

  One little girl, about three years old and cute as a button in her red, white, and blue outfit, stood in the middle of the paddock crying. She wanted to ride but was afraid to get on alone.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Annelise saw Cash coming toward them. One foot on the middle rail, he vaulted over the fence. Mounting a horse with a flag painted on its side, his hat tipped low over his eyes, he held out his arms. One of
the ranch hands lifted the little girl into them. Cash slowly guided the horse around the outside of the paddock. With the little girl now grinning ear to ear, he stopped by her parents so they could get their picture.

  Oh, boy, Annelise thought. And the storm within grew wilder.

  *

  Cash watched Annie walk away. He finished his loop around the ring, then handed the pigtailed little girl down to her mother.

  “Thanks, Cash.”

  “No biggie. Can’t have her growing up afraid of horses.” He dismounted, patted the mare’s muzzle, and tossed the reins to one of his men.

  His sister was waiting for him when he jumped the fence. “Hey, Cash.” She locked an arm through his. “You know I’ve always wanted what’s best for you, little brother.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “What do you mean, uh-oh?”

  “Any time you start out like that, I’m in trouble.”

  “Not this time. Not necessarily you, anyway.” She patted his hand. “First, though, I want to say I think you’ve found a real treasure.”

  His brows wrinkled.

  “Cash, anybody with half a brain knows you and Annie are getting real serious about each other.”

  He tried to pull away, but after wrestling two kids around, his sister had grown some muscle. Without making a stink about it, he had no choice but to stay arm-locked with her.

  “I saw the pictures Mel ran.” She slapped at him. “Don’t go making that face. I caught the two of you on AOL and Entertainment Tonight, too.”

  “What?” Now he did break loose.

  “Annie’s big news, bro. I also believe she’s that someone special who’s been missing in your life.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, believe me.”

  “Have you done something to screw this up?”

  “No.” He kicked a dirt clod. “Yes. Maybe.”

  “What’s wrong, Cash? What did you do?” Her eyes narrowed.

  “I can’t go into it now.”

  “You don’t want to go into it now.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Did you take Annie to the pond?”

  He stood stock-still. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “How the hell do you know about that?”

  His sister’s eyes filled with pain. “Did you two go skinny-dipping?”

  Mouth set in a tight line, he said, “I’m not gonna discuss this with you.”

  He started to walk away, but her next words stopped him dead in his tracks. “Did you take pictures, Cash?”

  Madder than he could ever remember being, he whirled on her. Anger exploded inside him. “Pictures? What in God’s name are you talking about? If you’ve got something to say, Barbara Jean, I suggest you spit it out because right now you’re pissing me off. Royally.”

  She took a deep breath. “Lower your voice.”

  “I damn well—”

  “Will listen to me.” She threaded her arm through his again. “Let’s take a walk.”

  She started around the side of the barn, practically dragging him with her. He was mad enough to spit nails. Once they’d put a respectable distance between themselves and the other partygoers, she said, “Cash, just before we came, I was messing around on the computer. I Googled Annie.”

  He opened his mouth but, seeing the disquieted expression on her face, shut it.

  “I wasn’t prying. I was simply bored and wasting time till we left for here.” She hesitated, and he saw tears in her eyes.

  “Babs? You’re scaring me.”

  “Oh, Cash, I don’t know how to say this. I’m so sorry.” She grabbed his hand. “There’s a video of Annie on YouTube. She’s at the pond. Naked.”

  He felt light-headed, as if every ounce of blood had drained from him. Then just as quickly, it all rushed back and heat flooded him. He’d murder the bastard, whoever he was, that had done this. His hands balled into fists.

  “You think I’d do that?”

  “No. I don’t. But I had to ask. Just in case you were fooling around. Made a video for the two of you.” She shrugged. “People do that.”

  “We didn’t.”

  “It’s posted by a Gwen Garrison.”

  “Gwen Garrison?”

  “You know her?”

  “No.”

  “It’s not an account you set up under another name then?”

  “Why in the hell would I do that?”

  “Don’t bite my head off. I didn’t do anything. But you should check her out. In the meantime, you need to tell Annie.”

  “I will. But not right now. She’s dealing with a hell of a lot.” He gave a quick-and-dirty rundown on Annie’s meeting with her aunt. “I need a minute, sis. Will you keep an eye on things?”

  “Sure.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “You know I love you.”

  “I know.”

  “You want some advice?”

  “No.”

  Barbara Jean’s eyes filled with fire, and he knew he was going to get it anyway.

  Her brother-in-law’s triplets saved him.

  Rosie had decided to put together a candy table for the kids. A kind of trick-or-treat thing on the Fourth of July. She’d set out pretty dishes filled with taffy and penny candy. Tall glass containers full of old-fashioned red, white, and blue–swirled lollipops, ribbon candy, lemon and orange candy sticks begged to be raided.

  The Rawlins boys were doing exactly that. Grabbing handfuls of the candy, they hurled it at each other—until his sister reached them. Barbara Jean caught two by the arms and scissored a leg around the third, trapping him.

  Cash watched her deft handling of the situation and gave her major kudos. And it hit him square between the eyes. This might be the last Hardeman Fourth of July barbecue at Whispering Pines. Once Vivi was half owner…

  Over a sinking stomach, he glimpsed Ty Rawlins threading his way through the crowd. At thirty-two, the guy had his hands full. Because he’d gotten married.

  Married. Like he’d be if he agreed to Gramps’s terms. Hell of a reason to go into marriage, though. Still, the weight of it dropped on him all over again, the impact as massive as that of a piano falling from twenty floors above.

  What if Annie was the one walking down the aisle beside him?

  He ran a finger under the collar of his suddenly too tight tee.

  She wouldn’t be. Period. And when she found out about the YouTube fiasco…

  Could things get any more screwed up?

  His gaze shifted back to Ty. He’d been happy in his marriage. Very happy. Until Julia’s heart had given out. Now he was a widower, raising three kids alone. Wouldn’t he have been better off if he’d avoided it all? Hadn’t married Julia?

  Ty reached the boys and, laughing, they dove at him, sticky fingers and all. The look on his friend’s face gave Cash pause. No. In this case, Ty wouldn’t have been better off. He’d loved and been loved back.

  The triplets, full of mischief, spoke of that love. He doubted Ty, a hardworking rancher, would have it any other way.

  His throat bone-dry, Cash grabbed a cup of Rosie’s homemade lemonade and drank it in two gulps. Despite the giant fans he’d set up, the day was a scorcher. Fourth of July. What could you expect? Squinting, he stared up at the sky. Blue stretched forever, with nary a cloud in sight.

  Inside his head, though, a storm of gigantic proportions raged. Trying to collect his thoughts, he slipped into the barn, into the quiet of Hank’s office. Locking the door behind him, he Googled Annie. When the YouTube video popped up, his curses rent the air. The shots were grainy and out-of-focus but, no doubt about it, it was Annie. Naked as the day she’d been born, laughing and splashing around in the lake.

  Shit!

  Nothing he could do would make this right. He’d talked her into shedding her clothes. Assured her they were alone.

  Another thought pushed its way into his head, and he kicked the desk chair, sending it crashing to the floor. If the
bastard who’d taken this shot had been there while they’d been in the pond, had he stayed around for part two?

  Oh, God. What had he done? What if someone had captured them making love? It had been Annie’s first time. She’d be devastated.

  She’d never forgive him.

  He flipped open his phone. A video like this, made without consent, had to be illegal, and by God, heads would roll.

  It had been posted that morning, so hopefully not many had seen it. And nobody else would. Time to call in some favors.

  *

  By the time he stepped back into the sunlight, the clip was history. He could only hope no one had downloaded it or made a copy.

  Regardless, the damage was done, and he had to tell Annie.

  Something like this would be tough to get through in the best of times, and, boy, they were a long way from that. Yeah, they’d made love this morning, but it had been more an act of desperation than love. He seriously doubted the two of them could jump another hurdle. His heart physically hurt. He couldn’t bear to lose her.

  Damn it, he’d let her down. He’d promised her sanctuary at the pond.

  What bottom-sucking scum had been there watching them?

  He seriously doubted it was Gwen Garrison. According to the friend he’d called for help, Gwen was an eighty-year-old great-grandmother in Michigan. Somebody’d hacked her account.

  He scanned the crowd. Was the Benedict Arnold here among his family and friends? Enjoying his hospitality? Eating his food? Dancing? He scrubbed his hands over his face.

  Nothing else he could do right now. He’d have to suck it up and put on his party face. Otherwise Annie’d guess something was wrong.

  Seemed everyone else was having a good time, though. Nobody’d hit the keg too hard yet, so nothing to worry about there. The smell of spit-roasted beef teased his olfactories and made his stomach rumble.

  He started toward the food table but stopped dead in his tracks as he walked past a group of his hands.

  “Naked. Absolutely naked,” he heard one of them say.

  With a snarl, he turned. “Who said that?”

  Norm swallowed hard. “I did, sir.”

  Cash’s last remaining vestige of sanity gripped him around the throat and shook him. “What were you talking about just now?”

  “Chicken wings.”

  “Chicken wings?”