Memories of You (13 page)

But neither could she bring herself to approach the boy as a friend. If she did, she’d probably just wind up hurting Enrique even more, so it was best to stay away from him.

“There it is!” Ari shouted. “There’s the ranch!”

“Buckle up, everybody,” their father called over the roar of the engine. “We’ll be going in for a landing pretty soon.”

He gave some instructions to Enrique. Vanessa saw how the boy’s shoulders lifted with pride as he handled a couple of the levers. She smiled in spite of herself, then sobered quickly and turned to help Amy who was struggling with her seat belt.

“Are you happy to see the ranch, Van?” the little girl whispered.

Vanessa gave a noncommittal shrug. “It’s pretty boring out here. I’d rather be in the city doing some shopping.”

“But it’s our birthday on Sunday.” Amy’s face twisted with dismay. “Van, don’t you want to be at our birthday party?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Camilla Pritchard turned and gave them a brief smile as she fastened her belt. Vanessa smiled back automatically, then looked out the window as the plane swooped in for a landing.

As soon as they were safely on the ground, Tom Beatch came shambling toward the plane, as skinny and bowlegged as ever. Vanessa looked at the old cowboy with a surge of pure affection. She’d known Tom all her life, and learned many important lessons at his feet.

But she held back and watched silently as Jon’s foreman submitted to the onslaught of the twins, who ran forward and hurled themselves against him with shouts of joy.

Another couple of ranch hands appeared from the direction of the barn, called cheerful greetings and hauled luggage from the plane, carrying it off toward the big ranch house.

When Jon took Camilla’s arm and drew her forward to make introductions, Vanessa saw how the woman tensed and her blue eyes widened in alarm.

The professor was scared, Vanessa thought in
amazement. In fact, she was practically as shy and timid as Enrique. Why would she be scared of them, when she’d traveled all over the world and met such classy people?

“And this is our friend Enrique,” Jon said, touching the boy’s arm. “He wants to learn how to ride horseback, Tom.”

The old cowboy smiled at them from under the shaded brim of his Stetson. “Well, now, that’s sure good, because we can always use a couple of extra hands around here. Matter of fact, we’re all leaving in a few minutes to go up to the north pasture and gather the bulls. I reckon we can find a horse for you, Ricky.”

Enrique ducked his head and smiled shyly.

“Have you got a horse for Camilla?” Ari asked. “We want her to come riding with us.”

Again Vanessa saw the sudden tension in Camilla’s shoulders.

“Oh, Ari,” the professor said with an awkward laugh. “I’ve never been on a horse in my life. I think I’d better just go for a walk somewhere and let the rest of you do the riding.”

Vanessa’s jaw dropped. She stared at the woman in surprise. Camilla Pritchard was supposed to be an Olympic-class equestrienne, but now she was claiming she’d never been on a horse?

She would have liked to volunteer to go for a walk with Camilla. Vanessa loved wandering on the prairie, especially in the fall. And she longed to talk with this woman, explore the mysteries surrounding her
and find out how she managed to remain so pleasantly quiet and self-contained.

But she couldn’t bring herself to speak.

“How about you, Van?” her father asked. “Will you be riding with us?”

Enrique cast her a hopeful glance, then looked away quickly.

“Vanessa’s a terrific horsewoman,” Jon told Camilla. “She can ride like a champion.”

“You bet she can,” Tom echoed with a fond grin. “This little lady, she’s one hell of a cowboy. Best I ever trained.”

Even Camilla smiled at her with open admiration. Vanessa felt a surge of warmth and a longing to return their smiles. Instead, she forced herself to shake her head, keeping her face expressionless.

“Sorry, guys, but I think I’ll just stay inside and watch TV,” she said with the air of lofty boredom she’d been cultivating so long. “I don’t want to get my hair all messy.”

Enrique’s face showed a flare of disappointment, quickly hidden.

“Didn’t Steve come along with you?” Tom asked, peering toward the plane.

Jon shook his head. “Steve’s busy with plans of his own. Seems like he’s not all that interested in the ranch anymore. Or the family, for that matter.”

“How about Margaret? We could sure use a few of her home-cooked meals.”

Amy moved toward the old cowboy and slipped her hand into his, swinging it happily. “Margaret’s
driving out here with Eddie in his truck. They’re bringing our birthday cake.”

Tom lifted the little girl into his arms. “Is that so?” he asked. “And which birthday is this? Now, let me see.” He pretended to count on his callused fingers. “I bet you’re…four years old.”

“Four years old!” Ari scoffed. “We’re going to be
eight,
Tom.”

Vanessa saw her father and the English professor exchange a smiling glance, saw how her father’s eyes kindled with warmth and how the woman looked away hastily, her cheeks pink.

Again she was astonished by what she’d observed. This whole thing was apparently something more than simply allowing the twins to bring along their favorite teacher for their birthday party.

Daddy’s crazy about the woman, Vanessa thought He’s in love with her, but she doesn’t feel the same way about him. She’s probably just here because the kids insisted that she come….

“Come on, Van,” Jon said. “Why don’t you come riding with us? I plan to talk Camilla into getting on a horse, no matter what she says, so you’ll be all alone in the house until Margaret and Eddie get here.”

“I like being alone,” Vanessa said languidly. “I’ll see you at suppertime.”

She walked away, conscious of the group watching her before they trooped off noisily toward the corrals to select their horses.

A
COUPLE OF HOURS
later, the little group of riders were following a herd of bulls as they lumbered and
bellowed down a rutted trail toward the ranch.

Camilla shifted in the saddle and lifted her face to the sun, sighing with pleasure.

This was heaven, she thought. Pure heaven. She’d recovered from her initial nervousness at being on horseback and was enjoying the gentle, rocking motion of the old mare that Tom had selected for her. The afternoon was mellow and golden, and the air sparkled like champagne. A breeze touched her cheeks, fragrant with the scent of sage and sunwarmed earth. Lazy clouds of dust billowed from under the animals’ hooves and drifted across the plain.

Off to her left she could hear the twins’ lively chatter as they rode their ponies next to Tom and Enrique. The children were apparently telling Tom all about their new school, while he responded with news of the ranch.

On her other side, Jon spurred his horse and galloped ahead to turn a big Hereford bull back to the herd. The animal pawed the earth and faced him threateningly for a moment, then dropped his horns and fell into line with the rest of the bulls.

Camilla watched as Jon rode back toward her. The man was so handsome, looked so comfortable in the saddle with his hands low on the reins. He wore jeans, a denim shirt and an old baseball cap pulled over his eyes, shading his face.

He reined in beside her and smiled, his teeth flashing in the shadow of the cap. “You look great, Camilla. A born horsewoman.”

She laughed and patted the sorrel mare’s shaggy neck. “I think Tom found me the most placid horse on the whole ranch. She’s so sweet and gentle, even a beginner can ride her. But I feel really embarrassed, bumping along here like a sack of potatoes.”

His big bay gelding fell into step with the little mare. “You know,” he said casually, “Vanessa told me a few weeks ago that she’d heard a rumor about you being a world-class horsewoman. In fact, you’re supposed to have ridden in the Seoul Olympics.”

Camilla gaped at him, astounded. She was familiar with most of the campus rumors about her background, but this was a new one.

“Me, riding in the Olympics? Jon, that’s so ridiculous. I can’t remember whether I ever rode a horse in a merry-go-round, let alone in an Olympic event.”

“According to campus gossip, you also grew up in New England, dated one of the Kennedy boys and traveled around with the jet set.”

Camilla felt her cheeks warming with chagrin and annoyance. “I honestly don’t know where all these ridiculous stories come from,” she said curtly. “There’s absolutely no truth in any of them.”

“So where did you grow up?”

You know where I grew up, she told him silently. You know the whole story. You’re the only person I’ve ever told.

For a brief reckless moment she wondered how it would feel to tell him the truth, haul all her secrets out into the open and see what happened. But Camilla knew she was never going to do that. She’d spent too
many years protecting herself from discovery to throw it all away now on a random impulse.

“My childhood was nothing special,” she said briefly. “How about you? Have you lived here on the ranch all your life?”

He gave her a keen glance, but didn’t protest the change of subject. “I was born here, and so were my father and grandfather. I’ve always loved this place.”

“Well, I can certainly see why. Enrique looks like he’s enjoying himself,” she said, watching the darkhaired young man who rode his horse next to Tom. “You’ve done wonders for him.”

“The poor kid, he just needs somebody who’ll give him a chance. I like having him around. He’s great with the twins.”

“Has he told you anything about his life before he came to Canada?”

“A little. I know there’s been some tragedy. It’ll probably be good for him to talk about it, once he trusts us enough to tell the whole story. It’s always good for people to talk about what’s bothering them.”

She brooded over his words, watching the little mare’s ears twitching at flies as she plodded along the trail.

“What’s the problem?” Jon asked quickly, reaching out to touch her arm. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She forced herself to smile at him. “I was just thinking that I wish Steven had.decided to come this weekend. I don’t know how he can bear to miss out on all this.”

Jon’s face clouded. “He used to love the ranch, but
nowadays he’s getting so distant. So’s Vanessa, for that matter.”

“She’s really a beautiful girl,” Camilla ventured.

“I know. She looks exactly like her mother. Unfortunately, she seems to share a lot of the same personality traits.”

He sounded so bitter that Camilla glanced at him in concern. “Does that worry you?”

“It sure does. My ex-wife is so self-absorbed that she causes all kinds of misery to these kids without even realizing the harm she does. I hate to think Vanessa’s going to turn out the same way.”

Camilla thought about the girl’s remarkable violetblue eyes, her pale face and quiet, watchful air.

She didn’t believe Vanessa Campbell was shallow. In fact, Camilla sensed depths of unhappiness in the girl that were almost as troubling as Steven’s rebellion.

Privately, she resolved to have a talk with Vanessa if the chance arose, and see if she could find out what the teenager was thinking. But she was growing more nervous all the time about how involved she was becoming with Jon Campbell and his family.

“Look, Camilla.”

She followed Jon’s pointing finger and saw a coyote topping a rise just beyond the herd. He loped through the rippling grass, silent and graceful, and paused on the crest of the hill to look back at them, his feathery tail waving in the breeze.

“Oh,” Camilla breathed, enchanted. “Oh, Jon, look at him. He’s so wild and beautiful.”

Jon watched her intently for a moment, then leaned over in his saddle and reached out to put his arm around her shoulders. She yielded to his embrace for a moment, shaken with memories and a flood of emotion.

With all her heart she wanted to cling to him, bury her face in his shirtfront and hold him tightly. She wanted to feel his arms around her, and his lips moving against hers.

Most of all she wanted to experience the closeness they’d shared more than twenty years ago in that shabby motel room. So many times in the intervening years she’d yearned for this man, ached to feel his touch again. Now, miraculously, he was holding her.

Maybe it was meant to be and she should stop fighting her emotions….

Appalled at her weakness, Camilla suddenly spurred her horse and bounced up the trail toward Tom and the children, leaving him behind.

T
HE CLOCK
in the front hall chimed softly, announcing midnight. The old house was wrapped in stillness. Jon lay in his big carved-oak bed, hands under his head as he stared at the ceiling.

He pictured Camilla just a few feet away, sleeping in one of the guest rooms. Jon couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind, and the fact that she was so close to him in the darkness was almost unbearable.

It had been a long time since he’d wanted any woman so fiercely. He could hardly keep himself from getting out of bed, slipping down the hall to her room and gathering her into his arms.

He was constrained by the knowledge that the twins were asleep in their room across the hall, with Vanessa’s next to them. And there was also something about Camilla Pritchard herself that kept him from pressing too hard. With any other woman, he would almost certainly have made his move by now.

But in spite of her beauty and intellect, Jon sensed a touching kind of shyness, almost a childlike air about the elegant college professor. Somehow, even though she was in her late thirties, she seemed like a woman who’d been protected from the harsh realities
of life. There was an innocence in Camilla that was both charming and frustrating.

He tensed, suddenly alert. A muffled sound carried through the quiet, something different from the normal creaks and nighttime groans of the big old house.

Jon sat up, wondering if one of the children was having a nightmare. He detected cautious footsteps padding down the hall, and caught a brief glimpse through his partly open door of blond hair silvered by moonlight.

It was Camilla. The stairs protested softly as she began to descend, picking her way cautiously to keep from waking the household.

Jon climbed swiftly out of bed, pulled on his jeans and a pair of leather moccasins, grabbed a shirt and edged into the hallway.

He heard the front door open and close, and wondered for a crazy moment if she might be sleepwalking. But when he went out onto the veranda he saw her sitting in the porch swing, wrapped in a blanket as she gazed at the stars.

He crossed the wooden floor and stood next to her. She looked up at him, startled, her eyes wide and frightened in the moonlight. When she recognized him, she smiled awkwardly.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep,” she murmured. “Did I wake you?”

“Not at all. Matter of fact, I can’t sleep, either. May I join you?”

She hesitated, then moved over to make room for him on the swing. “Do you want some of this blanket?”
she asked. “It’s kind of chilly out here tonight.”

“Sure, if you don’t mind sharing.”

He watched as she unwrapped the blanket and spread it across their knees, then pulled it up under her chin and settled back in the swing again.

It was a cozy, pleasant feeling, sitting with her in the darkness and sharing the blanket. Jon enjoyed her closeness so much that he was almost afraid to speak for fear of breaking the spell.

“Can you name all the constellations?” she asked, looking up at the dazzle of stars in the blackness above them.

“Most of them. When I was a little boy, I used to take a sleeping bag out on the prairie along with a flashlight and my astronomy textbook, trying to locate all of them.” He looked down at her shadowed face. “Did you ever do something like that?”

She turned away, avoiding his eyes. “Not that I can recall.”

“And then when I was older,” he went on, leaning back to gaze upward again, “I had a motorcycle for a few years. I liked to ride around after midnight and look at the stars.”

For some reason, she seemed alarmed. He could feel her arm tense as she gripped the blanket tightly against her chest.

“You must have had a wonderful childhood,” she said at last.

“It was pretty good, all right.” He touched the floor with his foot to set the swing rocking gently. “I
wish my kids could grow up here the way I did, but there’s no decent school in the district anymore.”

“I don’t think it hurts them to live in the city during the winter,” Camilla said. “The twins really need the mental stimulation. And this way, all four kids can have the best of both worlds.”

He glanced at her delicate profile. “You’re probably right,” he said thoughtfully. “At least the twins seem a lot happier now than they did at first.”

“Children adapt so quickly. Especially younger ones like Ari and Amy.”

They rocked together in silence for a while, looking at the stars.

She seemed strangely vulnerable out here, and more mysterious than ever. It was all he could do to keep from putting his arms around her. He longed to learn all about the woman, to break through the barriers of cautious reserve and win her trust.

“Camilla,” he began.

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you tell me about your childhood? I don’t even know where you grew up. I’ve heard all these wild rumors from other people, but nothing at all from you.”

She drew the blanket snugly under her chin, huddling in its warmth. “I don’t like to talk about myself,” she said in a low voice.

“Why not? I’d like to know all about you. In a strange kind of way,” he said when she didn’t answer, “I feel as if I’ve known you for a long time. But I really don’t know anything about you at all.”

“There’s not much to know. I’m a very ordinary kind of person.”

“No jet-setting? No trips to Paris or fancy parties at the Kennedy compound?”

“Hardly,” she said dryly. “I don’t even go to the faculty parties on campus.”

“So what do you do for fun? Any hobbies, or rare and interesting talents?”

“I’ve told you before. I just work on lesson plans and research projects, and look after my cats.”

He chuckled. “Now, that sounds like a whole lot more excitement than most people could stand.”

But she didn’t smile in reply. When he stole a glance at her, she was looking at the stars again. The bleak look on her face touched his heart.

“Camilla,” he whispered, putting his arms around her and drawing her close. “You’ve been looking sad all day. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she murmured against his chest. “I’m all right.”

He could feel her tension, but she didn’t pull away. His arms tightened around her. She was slender and delicate in his embrace, and so desirable that his body shuddered with longing.

“I’ve never met anybody like you,” he whispered against her hair. “There’s something about you that just makes me crazy. I don’t know what it is.”

She shifted briefly in his arms, then nestled closer with a faint smile. “Look, that’s no way to talk to your teacher.”

He laughed, delighted that she was actually relaxed
enough to make a joke. “Why not?” he whispered. “Maybe it’ll get me a better grade.”

“You don’t need help to get good grades. You’re an excellent student.”

He stroked her hair, then bent to kiss her cheek. “That’s good to know,” he said softly. “Is there anything else you want to teach me?”

“I doubt…” Her voice caught and she hid her face against his neck. “I doubt that you need much instruction. You seem like a pretty competent fellow.”

He grinned. “I’ve always thought so, but nowadays I’m not so sure.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re making me feel like a teenager again.”

She was silent, resting warm and gentle in his arms. Jon stroked her face, then lifted it to kiss her eyelids, her cheeks and mouth.

The woman was so delicious. Her skin felt like silk, and her lips were warm and soft in the chill of the autumn night.

“Oh, Camilla,” he whispered, kissing her again, feeling her mouth open in response. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe how beautiful you are.”

His body surged with passion. He gathered her closer, kissing her hungrily, and began to run his hands over her body under the warm shelter of the blanket.

For a moment she yielded and pressed against him. He could hear the way her breathing quickened, and sensed the urgency of her response.

I knew it, he thought, exulting in her sweetness and fire. This woman has all kinds of passion. She’s not cold at all.

Abruptly she pulled away and got to her feet, muttering something inaudible.

“Camilla,” he said, grasping her arm. “What is it?”

“I’m not…Oh, God. I’m sorry, Jon, but I just can’t do this. I can’t…”

Then, before he could say anything, she was gone.

N
EXT MORNING,
Camilla woke from a troubled sleep and lay in bed watching rays of pale sunlight wash through the flowered chintz drapes. She rolled her head in confusion, wondering where she was.

At last her thoughts fell into place, along with that midnight scene on the veranda. She moaned softly and rolled over to bury her face in the pillow.

What must he think of her?

She’d come on this trip as a favor to his children, and then behaved with such shocking abandon, practically throwing herself into the man’s arms.

Camilla remembered the feeling of that embrace, the hard strength of his body and the warmth of his kiss. She felt another surge of the hungry longing that had haunted her for so many years.

It had taken every ounce of strength she possessed to pull away from him last night and hurry back to her room. In another five minutes she’d probably have yielded completely and found herself waking up in his bed this morning.

“God help me,” she whispered, sitting up and gazing at her pale face in the mirror above the oak dresser. “I
have
to keep my distance from that man.”

She hurried into the adjoining bathroom, washed and dressed quickly, then opened the door and ventured into the hallway, wondering where the rest of the family was. The big house seemed unnaturally quiet in the crisp early light.

It was just after eight o’clock on Sunday morning, the day of the twins’ birthday party. Maybe nobody was awake yet. Or maybe they’d all been up for hours and were outdoors by now.

She crept downstairs to the kitchen, where Vanessa sat alone at the big oak table with a cup of coffee.

“Hi,” Camilla said. “Are we the only ones up this morning?”

The girl shook her head. “Daddy and the kids are outside helping Margaret gather the eggs. They’ve already had their breakfast. Margaret left some scrambled eggs and toast for you, and I made a fresh pot of coffee.”

Camilla felt relieved that she wouldn’t have to confront Jon right away. Maybe after a few cups of coffee, she’d feel stronger.

“I feel so lazy,” she murmured, crossing the room to pour herself some coffee. “The rest of you must have been up for hours.”

“Most people sleep late when they visit here,” Vanessa said. “It’s probably all the fresh air.”

“I think you’re right.” Camilla smiled at the girl,
then sat down at the table across from her. “Do you like coming to the ranch?”

Vanessa shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. May I get you some eggs and toast?”

“That would be very nice, thank you.” Camilla watched as the girl moved around the kitchen, filling a plate with scrambled eggs and toast. “You’re really beautiful, Vanessa,” she said impulsively. “You look so much like your father.”

“My
father?
“ Vanessa was so startled that she dropped her usual air of lofty boredom and looked at Camilla in astonishment. “You think so?”

“You have quite a few of his mannerisms. You hold your head the same way, and your mouth is shaped just like his. I suspect,” Camilla added with deliberate casualness, “that you have a lot of tastes and attitudes in common with him, too.”

“Well, he sure doesn’t think so,” Vanessa muttered bitterly. “Daddy thinks I’m just like my mother.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know enough about you to make a proper judgment,” Camilla said. “Maybe you should talk to him and tell him what you’re really like.”

“What do you mean?” the girl asked, sitting down in the opposite chair.

Camilla swallowed a mouthful of scrambled eggs and took a bite of toast. “I’ve spent most of my life doing just what you’re doing now, Vanessa. I’ve lived in a secret world and kept my real self hidden behind a wall where people could never see me. After that
becomes a habit, you can’t seem to do anything else, even if you want to.”

Camilla looked at her plate, hardly able to believe she was actually saying these things. The contact with Jon Campbell and his family seemed to make her say things she’d never dream of telling people otherwise.

The whole situation was getting more dangerous all the time. After this weekend, she definitely had to put an end to it. But in the meantime, she couldn’t help feeling a wrench of sympathy for the beautiful, unhappy girl who sat across the table.

“What kind of secrets do you have?” Vanessa asked, then flushed in embarrassment. “Totally dumb question, right? If you could talk about them to a stranger like me, they wouldn’t be secrets.”

“That’s the problem.” Camilla toyed with her fork, using the tines to make neat crosshatched patterns in the tablecloth. “The things we can never bring ourselves to talk about are most often the things that control our lives.”

“You mean, things that have really hurt us?” Vanessa asked in a low voice.

“Or frightened us,” Camilla said. “The two usually go together in our minds. And they’re so powerful we can’t seem to get past them on our own.”

The girl looked up again, wide-eyed. “But I can’t believe you’ve ever been hurt or frightened in your whole life. You look so…”

“What?” Camilla asked when the teenager paused.

“So composed and elegant,” Vanessa said, flushing again. “Like you grew up as a princess in some
kind of royal family, and had every kind of privilege a person could dream of.”

“Believe me,” Camilla said dryly, “those looks are deceiving. Can you keep a secret, Vanessa? You won’t tell this to anybody else?”

The girl nodded solemnly.

“Well,” Camilla went on, “there was a time when I was terribly hurt and frightened of my own shadow.”

“How old were you?” Vanessa breathed, clearly fascinated.

“Just about the same age you are now. I was on my own with no idea what I was going to do or where I was going to go. I would probably never have found my way back to safety except that a kind person came along and helped me.”