A Time for Us

by Amy Knupp

  Cale stared at her, again taken aback by the difference in her appearance, until he homed in on her beautiful, remarkable eyes and tempting lips.

  “Hey, you two.” Sawyer came up to them, followed closely by the older Dr. Culver. Rachel’s brother shook Cale’s hand and kissed the top of Rachel’s head. “Heard you’re going up onstage, Rachel.” He eyed her glass of wine and then raised his brows at Cale.

  “I’m monitoring her intake,” Cale said, laughing.

  “I’ve had three sips, overprotective men.” Rachel held her glass up, took another swallow and amended, “Four.”

  “We should head toward the stage,” Rachel’s mom said, checking her watch.

  Rachel hurriedly took another drink—a large gulp—and shuddered from it.

  “I’ll hold that for you,” Cale told her. “You can have one more swallow before you go out onstage, but that’s all. In addition to your other fears, falling on your face would be less than desirable.”

  The four of them headed from the patio to the back side of the stage. Cale wasn’t sure if Rachel even realized she’d taken his hand, but her mom noticed it and gave him a puzzling secret smile. He’d wondered how Jackie would react if she found out he and Rachel were involved. He’d actually been concerned about it, but maybe he didn’t need to be, after all.

  “What do you think of shorty’s rebellion—er, I mean, do?” Sawyer asked as they walked.

  “Nice,” Rachel said. “If you’re going to dish about my hair, wait till I’m not around.”

  “I already told her I like it,” Cale said, looking again, because no matter how good it looked on her, it was a huge change and he wasn’t used to it yet.

  Rachel studied him as if she didn’t believe him, and then they arrived at their destination, a kind of holding area behind and under the stage. It was small and packed full, and Rachel’s mom was the only reason they got past the security guards. Cale spotted Bowman and a couple of his band members over to the side, surrounded by local TV and radio personalities and a flock of overeager women...including his sister.

  A few minutes later, a man with headphones on gestured to Rachel. Her grip on Cale’s hand tightened, and then she let go. Before she could rush off, he grabbed her arm, turned her toward him and pressed a quick, intense kiss to her lips. “Noelle would be proud of you,” he said directly into her ear.

  She didn’t respond, just looked as if she wanted to throw up as she took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment and followed the guy to the stairs.

  Cale watched her every determined, brave step, his feelings for her overwhelming him. He’d been thinking that tonight would be the wrong time to tell her how he felt, but as they’d both found out, time was precious. He no longer wanted to waste another minute.

  * * *

  OVERWHELMING.

  That was the word that kept running through Rachel’s mind as she stood just offstage. It was all too much. The crowd, the band, the support of Noelle and the drive for funds for asthma research. Cale.

  When she’d first spotted him tonight, an involuntary calmness had come over her, as if having him there made everything okay, soothed her nerves. The next second, when he’d spotted her and taken in her new hairstyle, she’d gotten caught up worrying about his reaction. In typical Cale style, though, he’d said the right things about it. He made her believe it really made no difference to him what her hair looked like. Made it easy to lean on him, rely on him, pretend it was okay.

  She tried to ignore the nagging deep in her gut. Not now. Blocking out her doubts was vital right now, when she was crazy-nervous and so on the edge emotionally.

  The next thing she knew, her name was announced. She squeezed her notecards so tightly they bent as she made her way out to the microphone. As she took the mic from Heather Alamillo, the committee member who’d been tasked with entertaining the crowd from time to time before the show started, Rachel happened to catch a glimpse of navy blue on the ground at the corner of the stage, on this side of the barricades holding the throngs of concert-goers back. Cale’s navy blue concert shirt. He’d staked out a spot where she could see him, feel his support. The smile she gave the audience was genuine, if scared spitless.

  “Good evening,” she said tentatively into the mic.

  The crowd was restless and not exactly silent until she said, “My name is Rachel Culver. Noelle was my sister.”

  She inadvertently noticed one of the Jumbotrons to the side of the stage at an angle. There was a giant blowup of the photo of Noelle that Trina had taped to her planning folder so many weeks ago. It threw Rachel off for a second that felt like an hour. She swallowed hard and glanced at Cale. He winked at her and smiled...that smile. She could do just about anything when that smile was aimed at her.

  “My twin sister,” she continued. “Identical, believe it or not, but I recently flipped out a little bit and now I look like this.”

  There was a respectful din of laughter and several hoots and hollers from a section of guys close to the stage.

  “Thank you,” she said to the guys, smiling, trying to lighten her own mood. “Do you have an extra ticket for me?”

  They answered by throwing both hands up helplessly, as if to say she had the better seat already.

  “So,” Rachel said, glancing down at her notecards, her heart racing. She looked back out at the crowd and abruptly shoved the cards back into her pocket, deciding to ad-lib it instead, because there was no way she could have prepared for what she saw, what she was feeling. “Wow. This is unbelievable. I came up here with the intention of thanking you for buying tickets to tonight’s show, as all the profits are going to research the disease that killed my sister when she was only twenty-nine years old. You can see on the big screens how much was generated already just through ticket sales. That’s huge, people. Thank you.”

  The audience erupted in cheers, and as it died down, someone yelled out, “We love you, Noelle!”

  Rachel had been about to speak again, but that comment got to her. She lowered the microphone and took in a few deep breaths, staving off the mix of emotions. When she thought she could speak without losing it again, she lifted the mic. “I was also going to plead with you to buy a T-shirt to support the cause, but...” She indicated her own shirt and shook her head in disbelief as she gazed out at the multitudes. “It looks like seventy-five percent of you already did! As I look out, I see a rainbow of Noelle shirts. It’s...” She shook her head again, momentarily speechless. “This is amazing. In fact, don’t mind me. I want a picture.” From her other back pocket, she removed her cell phone, pushed the button for the camera, held it up and clicked. She had to cover the audience a strip at a time because it was too big to fit in one photo, and each time she moved the camera, the new section went wild.

  When she’d covered the whole place, she stuck her phone back in her pocket and continued her impromptu speech. “Anyway, the only thing I wanted to say besides ‘thank you’ is this. My sister was a free spirit. The kind of person who enjoys pretty much every moment. I was always the serious twin, and her carefree ways sometimes used to drive me a little crazy, but now I admire her so much for that ability to go with the flow....” Her throat swelled painfully and her temples throbbed, but she was determined to get this out. “So tonight, I hope you’ll let loose and love your life, love the moment especially for Noelle, since she isn’t here. She would have loved this concert so much. Thank you.” She rushed the end bit out before she was overcome completely.

  She’d never been so glad to see her mother, who came out as planned to introduce Tim Bowman and his band. After a quick hug, Rachel hurried off the stage...and straight into Cale’s arms. He held her there without saying anything, for several minutes—as the band was introduced, as the guys rushed past them toward the stage, as the first song started. He just held her. And she let herself be held, soaking up every second of it. Loving it. Savoring him. And when the emotion from her time onstage had passed, she still didn’t immedi
ately move. She just...was. For once, she took the advice she’d given to the crowd and went with the flow.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  GOING WITH THE FLOW, it turned out, made for an amazing night when you were by the man you loved, listening to excellent live music, on the beach under the stars.

  Though Rachel hadn’t had any more of her wine, she was riding a serious high an hour into the concert. She and Cale had found a place to stand on the far right side, only a few feet from the stage. The people in the area apparently recognized Rachel and were happy to let them squeeze in closer.

  Rachel held on to Cale’s arm and leaned her head on his biceps as the guitarist started into the next song, a mellow, plaintive melody. After the exhilaration of the day and having her emotions all over the map the past several weeks, her fatigue hit hard.

  “We’re gonna slow things down a bit for a few,” Tim said into the mic. “This song is kind of a surprise just for you guys.”

  The crowd cheered and the singer waited for them to calm down.

  “We wrote this song just for tonight. In memory of Noelle Culver.” Again, he paused for cheers. “I never knew her personally, but being a couple years younger than her, I remember her well. You didn’t go to school at San Amaro High and not at least know of Noelle Culver.”

  Rachel nodded, recognizing the truth in what he said. Noelle had commanded attention without trying.

  “I want to thank Trina Jankovich, one of Noelle’s friends, for helping us out. She put together a little show especially for those of you who knew Noelle that you’ll see on the video screens while we play our song.”

  The shot from earlier, from Trina’s folder, reappeared larger than life on the twin screens that flanked the stage. As the other band members joined the guitarist in playing a beautiful, haunting song about a girl whose spirit was larger than life, Noelle’s life flashed in front of them in a string of images. Trina had managed to find photos as far back as kindergarten to include.

  Rachel’s chest tightened as she watched her sister on screen, with friends, with the family, with her pet box turtle, homecoming dates and more. Cale’s arm slipped around Rachel and pulled her tightly against him, as if he knew she needed the reinforcement. And maybe he needed hers, too. She breathed in Cale’s scent and drew strength from his warmth that encircled her in the night air as she watched the images through blurred vision. The pictures became more recent, and there were a lot Rachel hadn’t seen before, most of them probably taken when Rachel was in med school.

  And then there was Cale, up on the big screen, holding Noelle, both of them laughing as if they didn’t even know there was a camera pointed at them, and Rachel’s whole world crashed around her.

  This was not her life.

  Cale wasn’t her boyfriend or her fiancé or her future. He was the man who had loved her sister. He was her sister’s man.

  Rachel ducked out from under his arm, hurried through the crush of people and ran away.

  * * *

  RACHEL HAD BEEN gone for a full five minutes before Cale decided he was an idiot for assuming she’d just needed a bathroom break. Not when she’d left during that song. Not when she hadn’t taken the time to mention where she was going.

  He felt like a salmon swimming upstream as he headed away from the concert. Tim Bowman and his band had just started playing one of their biggest hits, and that drew every last fan who had wandered to the concession stand or the Porta Potti line back into the stage area. The concert had been excellent so far, but with Rachel MIA, Cale couldn’t care less about missing the rest of the show.

  He scanned the row of mostly vacant portable toilets as he walked by, and then he went through the hotel lobby and asked a random woman coming out of the women’s restroom there to check for his escapee date. She reported the indoor restroom was deserted, though. No surprise.

  Cussing himself out yet again for not following her right away, Cale headed for his truck, which was parked fairly close thanks to the fact that he’d shown up at 4:00 p.m. to help with preparations on the beach.

  The idea that Rachel might be heading to her house would be too easy, but he drove by there first anyway. All the windows in the place were dark and her car was in the driveway, but that was expected since she’d ridden with her mom to the hotel. Just in case, he hopped out, leaving his engine running, and went to the door. Knocking three times produced no response, and when he tried the knob, the door was locked. He jogged back down the flight of stairs and briefly pondered his next move. It was a no-brainer. He knew exactly where she went when she was upset.

  * * *

  OLD HABITS GOT a person caught every time.

  Caught was the last thing Rachel wanted right now, so when she heard a car pull up in the parking lot on the other side of the boathouse and subsequent footsteps on the gravelly ground behind her, she silently called herself a slew of not-so-nice names.

  Why hadn’t she gone...anywhere else besides the boathouse on the bay? Because she hadn’t been thinking straight, of course. She’d been going on instinct. The walk from the beach to here was short, as the island was only about a half mile across at that point, and she hadn’t given a second thought to heading for the quiet of the deserted boathouse.

  When she’d gotten to Buck’s, which she’d known was closed for the night, she’d at least had the foresight to go around to the back side and find a place in the shadows to sit by the placid water. But she was in plain sight if anyone really wanted to find her.

  Obviously, Cale wanted to find her.

  “There you are.”

  The smooth, low timbre of his voice breaking into the quiet made her want to weep. She drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms.

  “I’m surprised Buck hasn’t given you your own set of keys,” he said, not taking the hint that she didn’t want to see him.

  She so wasn’t capable of mindless chatter or heart-to-hearts and didn’t want any kind of company whatsoever. She said nothing and prayed he would give up easily and go away, even as she knew full well he wouldn’t. That wasn’t the kind of man Cale was. He was the good kind, the persistent, caring, get-to-the-heart-of-the-problem kind of man.

  He sat down next to her on the man-made embankment. “You didn’t think you should tell me you were leaving the concert?”

  Rachel sucked in a leveling breath, steeling herself, and dared to look at him. She intended to reply but found she had no answer that would make sense. She merely shook her head, her heart breaking all over again at the sight of his concern and confusion.

  “That song was rough.” Cale’s fingers trailed lightly through the coarse sand between them, back and forth, digging a minivalley. “It was perfect for her. So perfect it hurt. And the photos...”

  He thought she was upset merely from Tim’s song? A month ago, it would have been her undoing, but tonight, though it had made her chest ache from the moment Tim had said he’d written it about Noelle, Rachel could finally handle that kind of reminder of her sister. In a way, she almost embraced it. However, letting Cale believe the music was the root of the problem was easiest. She nodded halfheartedly.

  “Did you know they were planning to do that?” Cale persisted, and again, Rachel responded with only a head signal, this time in the negative.

  “Come here,” he said, holding his arm out for her to burrow into.

  Except she couldn’t.

  He stared at her expectantly and then slowly dropped his arm. Not easily swayed, he scooted close to her side, until their thighs brushed together. When he put his arm around her, she couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t sit there and act as if everything between them was status quo when it wasn’t. When it could never be. She jumped up to her feet and put some space between them, walking away from the water, her back to him.

  “Cale.” His name got caught in her throat and she dug deep for the right words.

  He was standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders, before she even realized he’d stood.<
br />
  “Rachel.”

  She felt his breath at her ear and shook her head.

  “Baby, let me in. We can get through this together.”

  “No.” She stepped away, shaking her head. “I can’t do this, Cale. Once and for all. No.”

  “Whoa. Rachel, what’s going on here? I think I missed something.”

  She kept her back to him and it took every ounce of her will to not start crying. But she didn’t. She held strong. The only problem was that she couldn’t speak a word.

  “Are you gonna talk to me?” he asked.

  Rachel could only shake her head.

  He swore under his breath, obviously frustrated. “Okay, then. I’m gonna talk. I have some things to say. Are you at least going to turn around and face me?”

  Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. God, she wanted to disappear, not listen to another round of how she still wasn’t handling Noelle’s death right. Curling up in a fetal position would be a close second, but only in the privacy of her room. Gritting her teeth in determination, she slowly pivoted, her eyes locked on the ground.

  “Rachel, I love you.”

  Her eyes veered upward to look at him before she could rein in her response, and the intensity in his gaze nearly did her in. That. That was what she’d longed for for all her life. The right guy saying that and looking like that. Cale was the right guy. Had been since the night she’d met him. But she wasn’t the right girl, and there wasn’t a right time. Not for them.

  At her lack of response, he touched her cheek, pressed his forehead to hers, and all she could do was stand there stock-still as her heart pulsed with searing pain. Cale wrapped his arms around her and said it again.

  “I love you.”

  “You can’t,” she choked out. “You loved Noelle.”

  “I did. Past tense. She’s not here anymore, so I can’t love her in the same way.” He ran his fingers through her hair, his chin resting on her head. “I fought loving you, Rachel. I rationalized with myself that you two are so different it didn’t make sense. But I love you. I love your freaky-smart brain and the way you set goals and go all out for them and the way you are so sure about who you are. Watching you handle everything you’ve had to deal with since being back... You’re one of the bravest people I know. So determined. Strong. You make me stronger somehow.”