When I Found You (A Box Set)

by Webb, Peggy

  Her sons called her Eleanor mostly when they were displeased with her.

  “I would say she’s the one who should be apologizing.”

  “Whatever you’re thinking is wrong.”

  “How can you possibly know what I’m thinking?”

  “It doesn’t take a Philadelphia lawyer.”

  “Please.” Ruth said. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

  “You haven’t caused any trouble, Ruth.” Her son kept a firm grip on Ruth’s hand. Eleanor felt as if she’d been drummed out of her homeland and set adrift in a leaky boat. “Mother, it’s not like you to judge without knowing the circumstances.”

  Eleanor passed her hand through her hair. She was as shaky as an old woman. Maybe that was her problem. Age. Menopause.

  “You’re right. It’s not like me. I do owe some apologies to both of you. I jumped the gun and I’m sorry. Can you forgive me, Ruth?”

  “Certainly. No harm done.”

  Eleanor knew it was a gracious lie. She’d done enormous harm. She’d derailed a relationship with her daughter-in-law that had never got on track in the first place. And now probably never would.

  “Brett?” Her son’s face softened, and he reached out and pulled her into a bear hug. “Thanks. I needed that.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  “I guess you didn’t notice my pants?”

  “Mud?”

  “Blood. There’s a young duiker down by the waterfall with his throat slit.”

  “Poachers.”

  Eleanor knew what the word meant. Another long and frustrating battle to ensure the safety of the mountain gorilla.

  Brett gazed toward the jungle as if he were seeing the slain duiker in its small pool of red ... and all the blood that would follow.

  Chapter 29

  “I made a fool of myself today.”

  Eleanor rolled to her side to face her husband. Joseph was propped on the pillow smoking. He always did that after they’d made love. At first she’d protested, for she hated everything about smoking, but her protests had fallen on deaf ears. Joseph was not a belligerent man; he was merely a man who did exactly as he pleased in a dignified and mannerly way that made protests seem mean-spirited and tacky.

  He had many rituals, and over the years, Eleanor had learned to take comfort from them.

  “I doubt that you could ever do that.”

  “Well, I did. And with my new daughter-in-law.”

  “I’m sure she’ll forgive you. She seems like a nice young woman.”

  “Maybe she’ll forgive me, but I doubt she’ll ever forget what I did.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I practically accused her of trying to seduce my son.”

  “Malone!”

  “Not Malone. Brett.”

  “Brett would never do anything like that.”

  “I know that. But I let my imagination run away with my temper, and as usual it landed me in more hot water than I needed.”

  “A little hot water is good for you every now and then. Cleans out the cobwebs.”

  She leaned on his shoulder and played with the hairs on his chest. It saddened her that they had turned gray.

  “Do I have cobwebs?”

  “Not that I’ve noticed. But, then, maybe I haven’t been looking in the right places.”

  Joseph could always make her laugh. At least they still had that.

  “Do you think she loves Malone?” she asked.

  “She married him.”

  “Why? We’d never heard of her until he went to Hawaii. He was gone only a few days, for goodness sake! What was all the rush?”

  “Why not? I fell in love with you the first time I ever kissed you. The three months we waited didn’t make a bit of difference in the way I felt.”

  Sighing, Eleanor rolled back to her side of the bed and turned her back to her husband. Joseph put his hand on her shoulder.

  “You worry too much, Eleanor. Why don’t you take a few days off? Go to Nairobi. Do a little shopping. You’ve always enjoyed that flight.”

  “With the poaching starting up again?”

  “Brett and I organized patrols. We’ve got that under control.”

  “Besides, I hate shopping.”

  “Take a nice day trip. Go visit Luke.” Eleanor stiffened. “I saw him in the village last week and he asked about you.”

  “What did you tell him, Joseph?”

  “That you’re as busy as ever ... and just as beautiful.”

  Joseph squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t you think it’s time to put an end to this rift between you?”

  “There’s no rift between us. I just don’t have time to waste on social calls, that’s all.”

  Eleanor was glad her husband couldn’t see her face.

  Chapter 30

  When Malone was a kid, he’d learned how to turn disappointments into surprises. Did his parents ignore his good grades because Brett had won a debate trophy? Well, think how surprised they’d be when he finished at the top of his class.

  Now that the honeymoon was over and it was time to get back to work, why not turn the work into pleasure? Besides, he’d acted an ass and needed to apologize. This seemed a good way to begin.

  Malone decided to wait until Ruth was out of the tub before he told her about the surprise. He tamed his cowlick with styling gel then went out onto the porch swing to wait for her in the cool night air. She loved it outside. It seemed the appropriate place to make amends for all his sins, which were legion.

  He didn’t like to think about them, but while he waited for her, he made himself. Remembering was like trying on a hair shirt so he’d know it wasn’t really what he wanted to wear.

  It had been nearly eleven o’clock that morning before Malone had woken up. He’d found Ruth in the kitchen, bent over a note on the kitchen table, weeping.

  He’d thought he was the cause, and his heart had stopped for the merest fraction of a second. The note was to him. He was certain of that. She was telling him goodbye in a letter because she didn’t want to see him face-to-face.

  Who could blame her?

  “Ruth. Ruth.” He’d stood in the doorway, forlorn, saying her name twice before he could stop himself, and because he didn’t know what else to say.

  She’d turned her back to him and wiped her eyes with a dish towel that had lain crumpled on the kitchen counter, the one he’d used instead of a pot holder the night before, when he’d been popping corn on the stove. His throat had gone tight thinking how he’d never share popcorn with her again.

  “I’m sorry,” he’d said. “I know I was a jackass last night, and I won’t ever be again. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  “This is not about you, Malone.”

  When she’d turned around, she’d been perfectly composed. That had scared him more than her tears.

  “Look, I understand that you need to be independent, and that’s all right with me. Fact is, I wouldn’t want a wishy-washy woman.”

  “It’s not that, either.”

  “What, then?”

  She’d crumpled the note and crammed it into her pocket.

  “This morning I went to Brett ‘s compound..”

  While he’d been sleeping off his liquor, his wife had left him and gone to his brother. And why not? Brett was always the one who fixed everybody’s problems. It was only natural he’d step in and console Ruth.

  What else had Brett done besides console Ruth?

  “What were you doing up there?”

  The minute the words were out of his mouth, he’d wished he could have taken them back. But he couldn’t. All he could do was hope she wouldn’t walk out on him. It would serve him right. What had ever made him think he could keep a woman like Ruth?

  When the set look on her face had vanished, he’d nearly cried with relief.

  “I was working on my dissertation, Malone.”

  He had vowed to himself then and there never to take another drink of liquor. It caused hi
m nothing but problems.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Forgive me?”

  How could she not forgive him when he looked at her with that little-boy’s smile? Besides, it was easier to forgive him a couple of drinks too many than to forgive herself for being too happy in the company of his brother.

  “I guess I should have awakened you to tell you I was going,” she had said. “I really didn’t mean to do anything behind your back, Malone.”

  The tears were in Ruth’s eyes again. Malone couldn’t stand that he was the reason his wife was crying.

  “Oh, hey, now.” He’d held out his arms, and she’d leaned her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to sound like a grumpy old bear. You’re free to come and go as you please around here, and don’t you ever let anybody tell you any different.”

  “Not even you?”

  He’d been glad to see her smile.

  “Not even me,” he’d said.

  “Something terrible happened today.”

  “Not to you, I hope.”

  “Eleanor thought ...” Ruth had paused to clear the catch from her throat. Eleanor’s accusations had hit too close to home. Not that Ruth would ever be unfaithful to her husband with his brother, but perhaps the secret longing was a sin just as great. She made herself put her emotions behind her and focus on an immediate problem: “Eleanor saw a small slain duiker in the gorge.”

  “Damned poachers.”

  “That’s what Brett said, only he didn’t say ‘damned.’”

  “Brett never says damned. He’s damned near perfect.”

  “You’re the one I married.”

  “That’s because I was the one you met.”

  The truth had socked her in the gut like a football thrown too hard, knocking the wind out of her. If she let the truth get a foothold on her marriage, she might as well pack her bags and head back to Mississippi. Taking a deep breath, she had kissed Malone’s cheek.

  “That’s because Hector swept me off my feet.” Could anything good be built on lies? “You, too, of course.”

  “I married an angel. A damned genu-ine solid-gold angel. Not only does she put up with my shit, but she cries over small dead animals... . That was why you were crying, wasn’t it, sweetheart?”

  For a moment Ruth had been so quiet, he’d thought she might be crying again, but then she’d tipped her face up to him and smiled.

  “Yes, Malone.” How many more lies would she have to tell? “That’s why I was crying.”

  Relieved that the crisis was finally behind him, he’d carried her to bed to kiss and make up. As always, he was the one who’d done most of the kissing—but he wouldn’t think about that now, not while he was waiting for her on the porch swing with a big surprise in his pocket. When the screen door popped open, he patted the seat of the swing.

  “Come sit beside me, sweetheart.”

  She came to him softly, her skirts brushing against his legs, and he set the swing in motion.

  “It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?” she said.

  He tried to see the beauty through her eyes, but he saw nothing except the same stifling jungle and hostile mountains that he’d hated for years.

  “Yes.” He’d agree to anything tonight.

  “Malone? I’ve been thinking a lot today ... about us.”

  So this morning’s truce in the kitchen had been only temporary. He should have known he wasn’t going to get off so easily.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I think we make a damned fine topic for thought.”

  “Not about us, actually, but about our future. I really do want this marriage to work, Malone. I want it to be wonderful.”

  “I thought it already was.”

  “I didn’t mean that it wasn’t.” How could her husband be so clueless? Didn’t he feel the tension? Feel how she shrank from his touch? And yet the very thing that made him unaware was going to work in her favor— in their favor. If he believed they had a great marriage, her chances of making it work were that much greater. “I mean that it’s going to take me a while to adjust ... to Africa.”

  Ruth went as still as the dead, and Malone didn’t have the courage to say anything to fill the void. From the distance came the sounds of restless jungle creatures, each as distinct as a fingerprint.

  He guessed she’d mistake his silence for stupidity, but she probably already thought he was stupid anyhow, compared to Brett. Everybody else did. But there were some things a man had to keep to himself. Like worry over money. Hell, yes, he thought about their future. But how could a man say to his wife, Look, honey, I want us to have a big house in the valley, and not this little shack within spitting distance of my family, but the fact is, I don’t have the money, and at the rate I’m going I probably never will.

  No, there were some things a man had to keep from a woman in order to protect her, if he was any kind of a man at all.

  Sweat broke out on his forehead—the sweat of fear. The swing died down, and he didn’t have the heart to start it moving again. It was so quiet on the porch he thought he could hear insects growing wings.

  When he was near screaming, Ruth reached for his hand and squeezed.

  “Malone, I want you to know that I think you’re one of the sweetest men I’ve ever met, and I’m deeply grateful to be your wife.”

  “Ruth, you make me the envy of every other man in the universe. Do you have any idea how absolutely fabulous you are?”

  “I’m not ... I’m ...

  She left the swing—just got up and left him sitting all by himself, feeling like an idiot. She didn’t huff off, didn’t even stand all stiff and proper like somebody mad, but there was something determined about the set of her shoulders and the tilt of her chin, something brave—noble, even. He felt worse than a worm.

  What had he said wrong now? And how in the world would he ever know how to fix it? If he were Brett, he wouldn’t be making these god-awful mistakes with his very own wife. He’d know exactly what to do and say.

  While he was floundering in the unknown waters of matrimony, his wife turned to him again. But she didn’t come back to the swing: She leaned against the porch post as if she needed all the support she could get.

  “We never talk about some really important things.” Ruth had no experience with good marriages and great families. Certainly Margaret Anne Bellafontaine had not set a good example. And yet Ruth had seen how marriage could work, seen how families could be. Seen it from afar. Seen it with Wanda’s parents, seen it with her sixth-grade baseball coach, seen it with her ninth-grade music teacher. True, great family dynamics were rare, but just as she’d been determined to create a dog out of sand, she was now determined to create a good family for herself and for Malone.

  “We never talked about children,” she said.

  “I like the little boogers. Used to be one, myself.”

  “Be serious.”

  “Okay. I’m serious.” He made a doleful expression that caused her to laugh. That’s what he did best—played the clown, made people laugh. It was a talent that had got him out of more tight places than he’d ever thought possible.

  But children. Good Lord. He’d always imagined himself with children, but in an abstract sort of way, kind of like imagining himself with a hairy chest and biceps bigger than grapefruits. Besides that, he was too selfish to want to share the pleasures of Ruth right away with little snot-nosed brats. And what if they looked like him?

  “I was just thinking that the Virungas are a sort of paradise,” she said. “A really beautiful place for making a fresh start.”

  “A fresh start?”

  “I mean a good start, a good start on a marriage and a family. Don’t you think children sort of make a marriage complete?”

  “I think that’s what Eleanor and Joseph thought about Brett.”

  Ruth’s heart ached for the little boy he’d been, always outclassed by an older brother who was obviously the family favorite. She’d never let tha
t kind of favoritism mar her family.

  She sat down beside him and eased her arm through his.

  “And you,” she whispered, smiling.

  “Of course. And me.”

  “You do want children, don’t you, Malone?”

  “Right this very minute?”

  “I love your sense of humor. I really do. But we can’t go through the rest of our lives making light of everything. We’re not puppets. I didn’t marry Hector: I married you, and right now I’d like to know what you think.”

  It was time for more than a clown’s smile. It was time for a miracle.

  He eased his arms around her waist and was rewarded by her softness pressing against his side. What more could a man want?

  “We’ll have a family, sweetheart,” he said. “We’ll have as many children as you want. But first I have a little surprise for you.”

  “A surprise?”

  “Yes. You like pretty places, don’t you?”

  “I like being anyplace that’s different.”

  “Different?”

  “From Oxford, Mississippi.”

  “How about London?”

  “I’ve never been there.”

  “Would you like to go?”

  “Perhaps ... someday.”

  “What about tomorrow?”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No. I’m not kidding. It’s time for me to get back to work. Brett’s the Gorilla Man, but I’m the money man. Without me this outfit doesn’t run.”

  “You’re a great money man, Malone. Very convincing.”

  He kissed the top of her head. How was it that he could feel like shit and like a million dollars all at the same time?

  “Tomorrow I fly to London for one of those god-awful fund-raisers, and I thought you might like to go with me.”

  “What a lovely thought.”

  “The fund-raising will only take a little of my time, and the rest we can spend together, doing whatever you want to do.”

  “I know it will be lovely, Malone, and I’d like to go with you. Really I would. But I must finish my dissertation first. Time’s running out.”

  “I see.” He didn’t see at all. But he wasn’t about to make the mistake of fighting with her again.

  “Tomorrow Brett is going to introduce me to Cee Cee.”