They walked around the pond and Emmie stuck her foot in, but she liked talking better. When she told the story of Letty and Ace pushing Uncle Freddy in his wheelchair into the pond, Casey thought how she looked forward to getting Olivia and the child together. Olivia had been there!
“Mr. Gates was really upset, but Uncle Freddy just laughed,” Emmie said, sounding as if it was a story she’d heard often. “He loved Letty and Ace. What did your father tell you about him?”
“I don’t know my father very well,” Casey said. “I just met him a few months ago, and we haven’t had very many long talks. But I do plan to ask him about when he was Ace.”
“I know,” Emmie said. “Uncles are much better than fathers. Do you have an uncle?”
“Not a one. I—”
Emmie glanced to the side and her face lit up. “Mom!” she yelled, and went running to hug her mother.
Casey turned to see a tall woman coming toward them. She was quite pretty, with dark hair and eyes, and she very much resembled Tate.
At the sight of her, Casey stiffened. This was the woman who’d let her know how stupid she’d been about Tate. She’d believed a liar and had judged Tate—based on no evidence—to be a bad person.
But Nina smiled at Casey. “Hello.” S
he was hugging her daughter.
“We made little pies,” Emmie said. “They have cheese and peaches in them, and mine look like turtles and I ate a dozen of them.”
“Why don’t you take some to Uncle Tate? I think he’s tired of reading his new script.”
“Okay.” Emmie ran toward the guesthouse, her towel trailing behind her.
When they were alone, Nina turned to Casey. “Thank you for taking care of Emmie this morning. He said he watched her until she found you and…” She took a breath. “Tate and I were up late last night. She usually wakes me, but this morning she didn’t. By the way, I’m Nina Landers.”
Casey’s body was so stiff she felt like a mannequin. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have believed Devlin. I should have—”
Nina’s snort of laughter cut her off. “I married him! I believed him so much that I pledged to stay with him forever. Anything you did is a poor copy of my idiocy.”
“But I…” Casey couldn’t think what to say.
“Do you really have a kitchen full of food, as Tate says? His fridge is utterly empty.”
“Come with me,” Casey said, and they began to walk.
“Did I hear you and my daughter talking about Letty and Ace? Tate said Ace is your father. I’d love to talk to him. And Josh Hartman is your brother? He seems nice, very interesting. And understanding. Actually, he has a depth of perception that I find remarkable. I can’t believe I didn’t meet him when Stacy and I were working together.”
As they walked, Casey began to smile. It didn’t look like Nina was angry at her—and it seemed that she was interested in Josh. Unfortunately, so were most of the females of Summer Hill. But Casey liked a woman who’d go to so much trouble to defend her brother. Maybe if Casey got together with her sisters, they could push Josh toward this woman.
At the guesthouse, Casey had Nina sit while she made her an omelet of grilled peppers and three cheeses. While Casey cooked, Nina talked and asked questions.
After only a few minutes, Casey’s feelings of guilt over what she’d done to Tate began to lessen and she started talking about the rehearsals. “Poor Kit. Everyone is angry at everyone else and he can’t get good performances out of any of us. There’s some big past secret between him and Olivia.”
“Love affair?”
“Of course,” Casey said. “Only deep love could make two people as snotty as they are to each other. Will Jack be back for breakfast?”
“Last night he got a call that so upset him I thought he was going to burst. I think it was from his new girlfriend.”
“I…” Casey began. She’d sent Gizzy the email saying she was wrong. Maybe Gizzy had called Jack and he got angry. “I think that was my fault.”
“Which of course means that my ex had a hand in it. Rage trails behind him like damage after a forest fire. Whatever happened, Jack must have left very early and we haven’t heard from him since. My guess is that right now he’s with Gisele.”
Casey was washing a stockpot. “Tate must hate me,” she said softly. When Nina didn’t say anything, she turned and looked at her.
Nina’s pretty face was serious. “I’m not going to lie. He got his male pride hurt and he’s not happy. But I think if you’re patient he’ll get over it.” She paused. “Between you and me, his pride could use some bruising. All that fawning isn’t good for anyone.”