The Somerset Girls

by Lori Foster

“Except I haven’t yet had the sex!” Because that started her roaring with laughter again, she slapped her knee.

  Autumn started to chuckle. “Oh, man, we’re a pair.” Laughter being contagious, her chuckles grew until she fell against Ember, both of them snorting and choking and laughing until they cried.

  “I’ve got it!” Ember managed to say with glee. “I’ll tell Mike he can’t get any until Tash gets it, and then he’ll get on Tash and make him—”

  “Don’t you dare,” Autumn said, laughing.

  “It’ll fix things right up. Maybe Tash can give him some pointers on actually caring while they’re at it.” Oops, yeah, she hadn’t meant to say that.

  Quickly sobering, Autumn smiled and gently asked, “Is that what you want?”

  Exhaustion sent her emotions on a roller-coaster ride. “No. Screw that. Screw him.” She snickered again. “That’s the plan.”

  Autumn wiped her eyes and drew Ember in for a hug. A really tight you’re-my-sister-and-I-love-you hug that left her completely undone. For only a moment, she clung to her. Autumn was so strong, so resilient, and she wanted to sob because comparisons sucked.

  That wouldn’t be fair, so she drank in a few shattered breaths and finally got herself under control.

  “I’m pooped,” she said, sitting back. “You?”

  “Pretty much, but if you want to stay—”

  Just like Autumn, always there for her, no matter what. Damn it, that almost got her crying. “We both need to get some sleep.” She stood and carried the bowls to the kitchen sink, and Autumn followed. “Thanks for the laughs, the ice cream, the chitchat and the hug.”

  Standing quietly at the counter, Autumn asked, “Did it help?”

  “Bunches.” Her phone dinged and she pulled it out to read the text. “Mike says the cow is safe and sound with Ivey and her preliminary check didn’t show any serious medical issues. She’ll be in touch with one of us tomorrow.”

  Brought back to reality and the suckiness of unfeeling jerks, Autumn rubbed her tired eyes and nodded. “We’ll give her lots of love. She’ll flourish here. And Pavlov is going to love her.”

  Pavlov’s nails sounded on the wooden floor and a second later he poked his head around the doorway.

  “Did he hear his name?” Ember asked with amazement.

  “Probably.”

  He’d ignored all their babble, their cry-laughing—or laugh-crying...whatever—but now he looked ready to join in the conversation.

  “Pavlov, love, you are eerily intuitive.”

  “No kidding.” Using both hands, Autumn pushed back her hair. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “That we will.” Because she had plans to help her sis, whether Autumn wanted her help or not.

  * * *

  A week later, Autumn finally had a morning free. She and Sadie had already chosen all the colors for her bedroom. Painters would show up soon, so Sadie’s furniture had been piled in the middle of the floor. Currently she slept in a blanket fort in the living room, with Tash on the couch.

  Like so many other things, that endeared him to Autumn. He never missed an opportunity to make Sadie feel special, and to encourage her fun.

  It was because of that, as much as everything else, that she knew she was falling in love.

  The days since the cow rescue, as Sadie called it, had actually been...fun. Crazy fun. When she wasn’t at their house working on the renovations, they came to the farm and helped with everything. Sadie, the little darling, spent much of her time reading to the cow. Often Pavlov sat with her, his ears twitching this way and that as she spoke.

  They were at the farm again this morning, invited by Ember, the rat, to take part in her day with her mom and dad. True, Tash came in handy, helping her father from his wheelchair to the old van they used when taking him to appointments or for an afternoon out. Her mother insisted that he couldn’t stay home and “languish,” though anyone who met her dad knew he wasn’t wallowing in self-pity.

  With her mom and dad both in the air-conditioned van, she and Tash went to collect Sadie.

  His arm around her, Tash said, “You’re great with your folks.”

  Meaning she did well deflecting insults and catering to requests? Probably. She knew her mother meant well, but so far that morning she’d pointed out no less than three times that Autumn had issues. Her hair needed styling. Her clothes were too loose. She should learn to wear makeup...like Ember did.

  In fact, her mother wanted her to look to Ember for many, many things, including “man advice,” as she’d put it, while giving Tash a telling look.

  Tash had covered for her, vowing with believable sincerity, “No, ma’am. Trust me, Autumn has that completely covered just by being herself.” He’d sealed the deal with a quick kiss that curled her toes and made her mother smile with pride.

  Her father, ever outrageous, had tried to kiss her mom, too, but luckily, she’d dodged him.

  “I love them.” She glanced up at Tash, seeing him gilded by the morning sunshine, and confessed, “But sometimes they are a challenge.”

  His smile shared understanding, but something more. “Most parents are challenging, you know? I shudder to think what Sadie will one day say about me. I love her, but I still make mistakes and sometimes say the wrong things.” Giving her a one-armed hug, he said, “You’re probably too close to the situation, and I’m sure the constant judgment is a grind, but they’re so proud of you. Your dad, especially, looks at you like you could handle a hurricane one-handed.”

  She laughed at that. “Dad is easier than Mom.”

  Instead of arguing that—because, no way he could—he said, “You know, I wonder how Ember feels being labeled the flighty one.”

  But...no. “She’s not. She’s the vivacious one, the pretty one—”

  “You, lady, are gorgeous, so don’t try to sell me that.”

  Wow, he sounded like he really meant that. “Um, thanks. But they think she’s the pretty one and the lovely free spirit—”

  “Meaning unreliable? Irresponsible? That’s how it sounds to me, but I know Ember well enough now to see that’s not true. She’s different from you, yes, but she’s a hard worker. She’s funny, and she’s kind to Sadie and all the neighborhood kids.”

  Holy smokes, why had she never considered that? Her mother did try to pigeonhole them both, and maybe Ember disliked her assigned role as much as Autumn did.

  She leaned into Tash. “Thank you. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  They reached the barn and heard Sadie talking softly to the cow. The animal had proven gentle but skittish, had shied away from people, though Autumn and Ember continued to work with her, knowing she’d eventually trust them.

  Now, though, with Sadie’s sweet voice praising her, the cow had moved forward and had her nose stuck through the rails of her stall. Very, very gently, Sadie stroked her nose.

  Crazy, but tears burned Autumn’s eyes. She sniffed, and without looking at her, Tash hugged her again.

  His voice quiet, he said, “Sadie.”

  She looked up with a brilliant smile. “Look, Dad,” she whispered. “She’s letting me pet her.”

  “So I see.”

  Autumn swallowed heavily. “Have you thought of a name yet?”

  Ponytail bouncing, Sadie shook her head. “I will, though.”

  “I know.” Autumn reached out a hand. “Are you ready to go? My parents are in the van and Mike will be here soon to let the cow out to a pasture.”

  “Pavlov will go with her, huh?”

  “Yes, Pavlov is very protective of new animals.” He could do what they couldn’t—get close, nuzzle and cuddle—and the cow seemed to love it. “Yesterday, I found him curled against her belly when she lay down in the field.” The memory had her smiling. “I took a photo with my phone. Let’s get going
and I’ll show you.”

  Going on tiptoe, Sadie kissed the cow on the nose and told her goodbye. The look on Tash’s face was priceless. He appeared equal parts repulsed, amused and touched by his daughter’s caring.

  “She’s special,” Autumn whispered. “And I promise the kiss won’t hurt her. I’ve done the same a few times myself over the years.”

  On the way back to the van, she handed Sadie her phone with the photo of the animals together. Sadie was in mid-“awww” when a text came in.

  Handing back the phone, she said, “It’s nobody.”

  Wondering at that, Autumn glanced at the screen and saw Chuck’s name. The laugh took her by surprise. “You,” she said to Sadie, “are incorrigible, but I like it.”

  “She means you say what you think,” Tash said before Sadie could ask. He leaned toward Autumn and whispered, “But I agree with your assessment.”

  Are you getting my texts Get in touch Missed you

  Still no punctuation, but with or without it, he spoke nonsense. She started to put her cell back in her pocket.

  His step a bit more stiff, Tash asked, “Not going to reply?”

  She snorted. “To him? No.”

  Brows coming together, he looked ahead to where the van waited, then down to his daughter. Whatever he thought, the circumstances must’ve convinced him to keep it to himself.

  Or so she thought.

  Once they reached the van, he got Sadie settled inside next to Tracy, then walked around the front. Though he’d offered to drive, Autumn had refused, yet he didn’t go to the passenger side. Instead he kept her from opening the front door and said near her ear, “You need to tell him to get lost.”

  “He’ll figure that out on his own.”

  “I don’t think so, honey. Plus, our relationship will only work if he’s told about it.” With that, he opened her door for her—which meant everyone inside could hear if she tried to reply.

  Dirty pool.

  As she got in and buckled her seat belt, she wondered how he’d meant that. Was he reiterating the purpose of their relationship—to help get rid of Chuck? Or did he mean he felt possessive and couldn’t stay in a relationship with another guy on the fringe?

  Blasted men could be so confusing.

  On the drive to town she tuned out her mother’s complaints and let Tash deal with any questions Sadie had. Her father just enjoyed being out. Despite the heat, he’d rolled down his window a little to breathe in the fresh air.

  In so many ways, he was the opposite of her mom. Always good-natured, accepting of his circumstances without letting them get him down and grateful for anything she did.

  She glanced at Tash. He seemed equally lost in thought. Maybe even stewing.

  What kind of husband would he be? Someday he’d remarry, right? That’d only make sense.

  Into the silence, her mother asked Sadie, “Do you have any close cousins? Any other kids in the family your age?”

  Tash answered for her. “I was an only child, Tracy, remember?”

  “Yes, but what about her mother?”

  “Deb was an only child, too.”

  And Sadie, innocence personified, announced, “I want a sister.”

  Autumn’s breath strangled in her throat.

  Tash twisted to see his daughter. “You do, huh?”

  “Like Autumn and Ember. That’d be fun, huh?”

  Autumn bit her lip, then gasped when her father murmured, “Shoul’ pro’bly get married first.”

  Grinning, Tash leveled his devastating gaze on her. “Maybe someday.”

  Autumn felt his hot, speculative attention as surely as a stroke of his fingers over her skin. Someday? Yeah, someday sounded incredible to her, but she just kept her eyes fixed on the road and pretended a great preoccupation with her driving as they went over the railroad tracks.

  “I want a sister,” Sadie said again. “She should be named Ella.”

  In a brief show of understanding, Tash patted her thigh, then turned to look at Sadie again. “Got a name picked out and everything?”

  “Yes, and she could have dark hair like Autumn and Ember.”

  “But your red hair is so pretty,” Tash said.

  “It’s stunning,” Autumn agreed.

  “Ella.” Her mother considered the name. “Ella, Ella. Hmm... Ella and Sadie. It’s lovely,” she pronounced, as if a sibling was a foregone conclusion. “I like it.”

  Oh-so-reasonably, Tash said, “You’re right, Tracy. Sadie has very good taste.”

  Sadie went quiet in thought for a moment, then said, “Tracy is pretty, too.”

  “Oh.” Flustered, her mom giggled. “Thank you. I’ve always liked it.”

  “I know,” Sadie with a flash of excitement. “That’s what we’ll name the cow.”

  “Ella?” Tash asked.

  “No.” With an excess of mischievous delight, Sadie stated, “I’m going to call her Tracy.”

  Her dad burst out laughing, which made Tash crack a grin, and that made her start to snicker.

  Pretty soon they were all cracking up—everyone except Tracy.

  * * *

  Once in town, Tracy and Flynn insisted they were fine on their own as they paused outside the restaurant.

  “I need to get a few things.” Tracy indicated the art-supply store a few buildings up.

  Flynn said, “I’m going with her. Gotta make sure she doesn’t buy out the store.”

  “Ha!” Tracy looked down on him with fondness. “You stick close because you think other men flirt with me.”

  “’Course they do,” Flynn said, his affected voice a little deeper with his own affection. “No man could resist.”

  Ill at ease with their teasing, Autumn said, “When you’re ready, Mom, just text me. We’ll be at the restaurant having breakfast.”

  Tracy patted Sadie on the head, told them all goodbye and walked alongside Flynn’s wheelchair as they headed up the walkway.

  On the way into the restaurant, Sadie said, “I want waffles and fruit.”

  “Sounds very healthy.” He kept one hand on Sadie’s back, the other on Autumn’s, as they started toward a back table. Almost there, Autumn tripped to a halt. He glanced at her, then to where she stared... Chuck Conning.

  All around them, diners chatted, forks clinking against plates, kids slurping through straws. Tash tuned it all out, his single focus the man sitting there laughing with a friend.

  As if he hadn’t hurt her. Hadn’t broken her heart.

  Satisfaction fed into his bloodstream, burning straight to his heart to make it thump harder. Anticipation took him forward two steps. Finally he could confront the bastard.

  Autumn couldn’t dodge his attention any longer.

  Chuck looked up, saw Tash and started to smile...until he noticed Autumn standing rigidly behind him. Chuck’s smile faltered, then eased into a scowl as he pushed back his chair.

  One glance, and Tash saw that he’d gone soft around the middle, his face having lost all angles in favor of rounded curves. Pudgy cheeks, the start of a double chin. His jeans fit snug beneath a thickened belly.

  If he’d ever been a good-looking guy, he wasn’t anymore...at least, not to Tash. Autumn must have seen something in him—what he didn’t know.

  Then he remembered Mike saying a lot of women found him attractive. Go figure.

  A fake smile moved the flesh of Chuck’s face. “Tash, long time no see.”

  Tash accepted the hand he offered. “It’s been a while.”

  “How long have you been in town?”

  “I moved back at the beginning of summer.” He smiled toward Autumn. “But I’ve been busy.”

  Chuck’s gaze slid to her, too. “Is that so?”

  One step back, and Tash was able to put his arm around Autumn’s shoulders, drawing her
forward.

  During his and Chuck’s brief exchange, she’d recovered enough to say, “Chuck. How’ve you been?”

  Sadie stuck close to her, nearly wrapped around her leg, her vivid blue eyes shooting daggers at Chuck.

  Huh. His daughter had great instincts.

  Following an uncomfortable glance at Tash, Chuck said, “I wanted to talk to you, honey. Didn’t you get my texts?”

  “She’s ignoring you,” Sadie stated, still mean-mugging him.

  Taken aback, Chuck gave a short, uneasy laugh. “And who are you?”

  “My daughter, Sadie.” Tash wondered if there was a tactful way to peel Sadie away, but then Autumn rested her hand on Sadie’s shoulder and smiled down at her.

  “That’s right, Sadie. And I think we’ll ignore him now, too. Come on.” She took two steps, realized Tash wasn’t budging and frowned at him. “Let’s get a table.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Her eyes flared, then narrowed in warning. Looking between him and Chuck, she got her back up with ire. “No, I don’t think so.” Sadie stood in militant silence beside her.

  My girls, he thought, recognizing this new sensation of unadulterated pride.

  Fine. He could handle this Autumn’s way. In fact, he found it preferable. No reason for false civility.

  Shrugging, he turned to Chuck. “You heard the lady.” Paying no attention to the few customers now interested in their exchange, Tash said, “She wants nothing to do with you, and I don’t want you hassling her, so no more texts.” A condescending pat on the shoulder emphasized how little Chuck meant. “I’m the possessive sort. Remember that.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “He did what?” Ember asked.

  “Warned Chuck off, like some, some...caveman.”

  “What did you do?”

  “When I saw Chuck?” Hiding her face in her hands, Autumn groaned. “I froze. Like a great big coward.” God, it shamed her. “All my talk of handling things, refusing to let anyone else speak up for me...and then I couldn’t speak for myself.”

  Her voice velvety with understanding, Ember said, “You put too much on yourself, sis. What he did to you was pretty damn devastating. Of course, it’d be hard to see the dick again.”