Read Online Someone Like You by Elaine Coffman - Free Book Online Page A

thoughts a thousand miles off.
    He had been sitting there for at least an hour, listening to the sound of insects, the occasional bleat of a sheep or the bawl of a calf. It was a tranquil spring afternoon, hotter than it had been during the past few days. He heard a splash and looked toward a thick stand of weeds that grew along the creek. A green frog cut a V in the water, disturbing its glassy surface as it swam toward the other side. A few seed-pods left over from last fall floated out of the weeds.
    Susannah suddenly rounded the bend in the path and saw him. She was surprised, jerked to a halt, and exclaimed, “Oh my goodness! It’s you!”
    Reed could tell that her heart was galloping. Why was she so uncomfortable around him? He could never remember any other woman being so uneasy in his presence.
    His gaze dropped to the bundle she held clutched tightly against her chest. “Going swimming?”
    “No…I mean, I’m not…that is—” She stopped and took a breath. “I was…but I’m not now.”
    “You seem to be having some difficulty. Did you come down here to go swimming or not? Which is it?”
    “I was, but I’ve changed my mind.”
    “You changed your mind because I’m here?”
    “Can you think of a better reason?”
    He shrugged. “Don’t let me stop you. I’m as harmless as a fly.”
    “I can’t believe anyone was ever stupid enough to fall for that.”
    He laughed. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”
    “I doubt it.”
    There was something about the way she said that that made him wonder, something that went beyond mere cynicism. Had she fallen for a similar line herself? Had she been seduced by some cowboy who drifted into her life and then drifted out again?
    “Well, now that you’re here, you might as well join me,” he said.
    “I didn’t bring a fishing pole. I didn’t know you like to come down here.”
    “I’ve only been a couple of times. If you want to fish, I can cut another sycamore sapling for a pole.”
    “What are you using for bait?”
    “Frogs mostly. I also found a couple of hellgrammites under some rocks I turned over.”
    “Have you caught anything?”
    “Two sun perch about the size of my hand. I threw them back.”
    He got a nibble and yanked the pole. The hook shot out of the water, naked as a needle. “They get my bait every time.”
    He put a frog on the hook and swung it out where the creek made a wide turn. The water was deeper there. Maybe the fish would be bigger. He wasn’t certain, since he didn’t know the first thing about fishing.
    He watched the frog float on top of the water; then it went below the surface. He felt a tug on the line. It pulled tight. The end of the sycamore sapling bent over into a U. The fish kept on going. It must have been a big one, and Reed was afraid it would snap the sapling in two. He wasn’t about to lose this fish—not in front of Susannah—so he stood up.
    “Where are you going?”
    “After this fish.” He waded out into the water. “I’m not—” He stepped into a deep hole, swallowed a mouthful of water, and sank. Water rushed over his head and into his nose, but he held on to the pole. He surfaced, took a gulp of air, and found his footing. The line went slack and he thought he’d lost it, but it went tight again and Reed kept just enough pressure on to feel those moments when he needed to pull in and when he needed to give a little slack. He followed that damn fish all over the place, thrashing about in deep water over his head and floundering in the weeds along the creek bank. He was thinking he would never land this fish when the line snagged on a log in the shallows. He saw the fish flip in the weeds.
    “Holy moley!” he heard Susannah shout. “It’s a big one. A bass! I don’t remember ever seeing anyone catch a bass in here.”
    He took a dive toward the fish, but it flipped just before he caught it. “You still haven’t seen anyone catch one,” he said between pants and gasps.
    He saw the fish in