The Courting of Thomasyna Tollefson

Mistaken Identity-3

“THIS FOR real?” The exclamation was wholly involuntary. Thomi looked up from her copy of the script opened to the title page. Three Loves Hath Lidia Rose.

Keath Lindell finished passing out script copies to the rest of the cast, which included besides herself and his younger brother, Simon, the local talent of Vernon Parker, Jevon and Cecily Grayson, (Cecily presently dating Simon), Kelly and Kaycie Kester, Henry Dawes, and others who had lesser parts.

Keath handed a copy to Mrs. Kester, the high school drama instructor who normally directed Littleton’s Summer Productions. Mrs. Kester was thrilled, not only to have the opportunity to work again with Thomasyna—as well as to have her daughter Kaycie chosen as Thomi’s understudy—but also to work with an actor-director of Keath Lindell’s caliber. He took a seat and crossing one leg over the other, he met Thomi’s disbelieving look.

“Kate of the Oglala won’t be your mother’s only triumph,” he informed. “She has a talent for this!”

Thomi glanced at the cover of the script. “I see her full name’s here—Anetra Joelene Ellyce Royce-Wyndham Tollefson. Dad’s approved this one, then?”

Said Keath lightly, eying her with a certain look, “I think we can leave it for another time, Thomasyna. We don’t wish to bore everyone with these trivialities!” He opened his copy. “Shall we begin?”

No one appeared in the least bored by these “trivialities.” But his gentle rebuke curbed her tongue. Thomi had no wish for her family’s affairs to become household talk—at least not to the extent some of her own were. The tabloids, even a couple reputable magazines, had had plenty to say about her life of late. One had even dug up a nugget of damaging worth concerning a certain party she’d reluctantly attended with Charley.

If only she’d fallen asleep or been silly herself on that occasion! Had no clue if the allegations against her were true or made up.

Truth was, she didn’t remember a thing—except accepting Eddy’s challenge to a habanera pepper eating contest . . . washing down the fire with a concoction resembling a milkshake she couldn’t taste.

Which must have been the objective. For if she couldn’t taste it, then she might not realize right away that it’d been spiked.

Heaven preserve them from ever learning about Saturday’s events, or what had really become of those vast sums of money Charley’d sweet-talked her out of! She wouldn’t be happy to discover someone had leaked ‘family concerns’ to the media at any time. Would be mortified if it turned out she’d been the unwitting cause herself!

“All right, people,” Keath began, as pages were opened. “As you know, this is a fairy tale and a musical, which I believe you’ll find quite enjoyable! We have four weeks to prepare it! With your commitment, your hard work, we’ll put on a production we’ll be proud to be associated with—one that will draw in the crowd that’ll help Jaimee Kelmann’s family cope with her expenses. This goal in mind, Thomasyna, as our lovely Lidia Rose and Jevon, as the romantic Eric the Poet, will begin our story!”

As the script was read and different aspects discussed, Thomasyna’s instincts suspected this tale wasn’t simply from her mother’s imagination. Set in an obscure year after the manner of most fairy tales, it had, nevertheless, the feel of real. Unable to define her reason for why she felt it so, she formed the intention to question Keath about it.

However, Mrs. Kester claimed Keath’s attention afterwards, having ideas and questions about the costumes. Thomi looked, then, for Simon Lindell, the hero of the tale as Sir Anthony Bearcroft. However, Cecily, who’d coveted the role of Princess Lidia Rose, but who’d landed that of Queen Garianna, seemed awfully worried that Simon’s passion for Thomi might still flame. The instant the reading was over, she’d hurried him away. Not permitting even a good night to pass between them.

What a fool! Ah, well . . . Rikki needed to be looked in on, anyway.

Cliff Top Manor sat, as its name implied, upon the cliffs at the end of the road bearing its name. The girls’ offer, modest in comparison with others received, had found favor with the sole heir of the estate, whose ill-health prevented him from caring for it as it deserved.

Intrigued by their identical looks, their similarities, the subtle differences in their personalities, his old heart warmed to the earnest sincerity in their pledges to cherish the estate as he and his had done till now. Satisfied with their assurances, he’d bestowed his blessing upon them. While they had promised his beloved Cliff Top would never become a museum, because of Thomi’s growing popularity, it drew considerable attention, nevertheless.

Therefore, it was no surprise to Thomasyna, when she topped the hill, to find a car parked outside its gates. Such encounters could, from time to time, be an annoyance. Generally, she was friendly, seldom shrinking from confrontations, begrudging no one an autograph. Occasionally, though, turning around and coming back later was a better choice. Hiding, however, might work tonight, and she hoped her visitor would leave very soon, for Rikki’s sake. Although, likely, she was still asleep.

A narrow track ran the length of the left side of the stone and wrought iron wall that protected the house and the grounds within, and gave out onto the cliffs beyond. Thomi quickly turned onto it, hoping in the gloom of a rainy evening, her action wouldn’t be perceived. Intent upon getting safely behind the wall, she buzzed her purple convertible Mustang along the track—until she hit a deep rut she wasn’t quick enough to avoid. Slick with mud from the day’s storm, it held her fast.

“Oh, great!” Disgusted, she switched off the motor. She could maybe rock it out, but she didn’t want to call attention to herself should that green Vette drive past. She kept watch in her rearview mirror for evidence of its leaving.

And here it came.

But no—no, it was stopping!

The emerald green Corvette blocked the way out of the track, and a man got out. Eyes widening in lively horror, she bounced around in the seat to get a better look out the rear window. “Ah, you gotta be kidding . . .! It can’t be!”

It was.

Stephan Deverill strolled up and took a leisurely walk around the car. After surveying her predicament from every possible angle, he halted by her window, waiting expectantly. With irked exasperation, Thomi rolled it down part way. “If you’d only had dinner with me tonight,” he opined, gesturing toward her imprisoned wheel, “you’d’ve saved yourself this embarrassment!”

She gave a reluctant laugh, responding swiftly, “A small price to pay!”

His eyes lit with amusement, and he leaned out to cast another look at the tire buried to its hub in the hole. “Well, maybe—had it worked!” Holding her gaze with his smiling one, he reached in, unlocked her door. “Doesn’t pay to run away from me! Now come walk with me.”

“I melt in the rain!”

“A gentle mist!” He held out one hand to prove that while the other curled around her arm. Lightly. He wasn’t forgetting her injuries this time.

Still, she flinched and moved away with telling swiftness. “I melt in the rain!” she insisted with obnoxious determination.

He watched her a moment in silence, then informed her, “You’re safe without your furry bodyguard! Walk with me, Thomasyna!”

“Why are you bothering me?”

“You left behind the things you shopped for!” He flashed her an audacious grin. “Fabulous excuse for me to see you again. I’m determined not to dine alone tomorrow!”

Stephan—!”

“See! We’ve been on a first name basis for hours! Walk with me!” His smile together with his coaxing look knocked another brick out of the wall that was supposed to be protecting Heart.

Thomi made a sound of amused annoyance. “You’re wasting your time!”

Unmoved, he shrugged. “My time. I can waste it as I see fit!”

“Then, you’re wasting my time!”

Supremely serene, he answered, “But I have a right to!”

Thomi shot him up an angry resentful glance. “Look—”

“Don’t you deny it!” he told her softly. “This conversation wouldn’t be possible had I not rescued you!” He cut off her hot dispute. “Too close to the edge, Thomasyna! You ought to be more careful! Especially when your emotions are disordered!”

Disregarding that reproof, which sounded much like Rikki’s earlier, she retorted, “You don’t know a thing about my emotions!”

“You’ve been dumped; you’re hurting! Let me help you through it! Give us the chance to know each other better. All these stories about you can’t be true! And I can be,” he insisted, “the gentleman Charley apparently wasn’t. I’ve promised you the rules are yours to make.”

When had he promised that? She poised to ask it, but then it occurred to her. He must’ve vowed it to Rikki. What else had he vowed to Rikki?

“You were almost ready to say yes. Plus,” and he grinned, “I know you were wondering what my kisses might be like!”

She choked on an outraged laugh.

Thank you, Rikkayla!

Pulling out of his light hold, she slid a little away from him. “Was the storm—it scrambled my brains! I am really not interested!”

His look, his tone altered. “Look, if you fall off a horse, you get back on! I’m willing!”

“Totally different thing!”

“Not at all! Let me prove it to you!” When she flung him a look of skepticism, he went and impulsively picked her a handful of wildflowers blooming along the track. He thrust them in at her. “These flowers are growing where almost no one sees them. But your life isn’t like that. It’s in the open, bringing a great deal of pleasure to a lot of people.” Earnest blue eyes met emerald green. “You’re able to continue doing it.”

Listen, if you want me to find pleasure in working for you, go with him! Heart danced with eager anticipation and a certain desperation. Kind of like a little kid needing to pee.

Thomi switched on the ignition. “I’ve got to get my Mustang out of this canyon!”

“You know what they say about resistance!” Her swift exasperated glance made him exhort, “You’ll be loving me the instant I’ve helped you free your Mustang from this chasm!”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, get a life!”

“I’m trying to!” he answered plaintively, walking to the back of the car to give it a push.