He came up, took a deep breath and began a battle against the wind-whipped waves. On most days, the bay was fairly calm. Today, it churned. He fought on and on, not thinking of anything but the struggling children and Robin. Then it dawned on him: this must have been the way his father felt when he had gone in after the girl. It didn’t matter how she had gotten into trouble, just that she had. And he had been there to help her.
Eric pushed the revelation into a back corner of his mind. That would be something to contemplate later. Right now, he couldn’t think of it.
He had to act.
ROBIN BECAME AWARE OF Eric’s presence as she neared the first child. She saw his strong strokes make steady headway across the water, and she could have cried aloud in relief. She hadn’t been sure how she would handle the situation. She doubted that she could right the boat, and she also doubted that the children’s strength would allow them to wait in the cold while she went back for help, since hypothermia became more and more of a danger as time wore on.
“Robin!” Gwen cried hoarsely, gagging as a rising crest hit her face. Though the girl did the best she could to stay afloat, her situation was clearly growing desperate.
In several strokes Robin was beside her, supporting her with her free arm. “Are you hurt?” she asked quickly.
Gwen shook her head, her teeth chattering. “Colin and Teddy,” she said, straining to see the other children.
“They’re going to be fine,” Robin assured her. “Your Uncle Eric is coming for them.”
Gwen started to cry.
“Hey, it’s all right.” Robin tried to sound reassuring. “The worst part is over.”
“I didn’t want to come in the first place,” Gwen wailed. “Colin and Teddy made me!”
“We’ll talk about that later, okay? Right now, grab hold of my shoulders.” She shifted so that her back was to Gwen. “No, higher,” she said as Gwen reached for her upper arms. “That’s right,” she approved when finally the girl found the appropriate position.
Eric arrived at the capsized boat. “Are you all right?” he called to her.
“Fine! We’re going in. Is everything going to be all right with you three?”
“I’ll hoist them onto the bottom of the boat,” he said. “We’ll be right behind you.”
“Do you need help?”
“No.”
Robin spoke again to Gwen. “Relax, let me do all the work. You just hold on. Are you ready?”
Teeth still chattering, Gwen nodded.
Robin began to swim a modified breaststroke, letting the wind and the waves help her progress this time instead of hindering her. She glanced at Eric. He was doing exactly as he’d said. One boy was already out of the water, straddling the keel, the other was being given a boost. Eric waved to her, then moved to the front of the boat and started to tow it by executing a powerful sidestroke.
It seemed to take a long time to reach the shore, but Robin knew that time only felt drawn out. Her muscles were starting to burn, since Gwen’s hold had shifted to her neck. Trying not to think too much, she pushed on.
She waved David away when he paused while swimming out to help Eric with the boat. She and Gwen were all right. They were going to make it.
The small crowd on the beach surged forward as the swimmers reached shallow water. Allison splashed into the surf, unmindful of her cream linen slacks. She drew Gwen into her arms, all the while crying and saying her daughter’s name over and over.
It was only then that Robin realized the full import of what she’d done. She had saved Martin Marshall’s granddaughter from the same fate as the one he’d saved her from. That thought, along with the physical strain she’d just been through, made her knees buckle as she tried to stand.
Samantha rushed over with a blanket, and someone helped her back to her feet. Pats on the back greeted her, some given by people she couldn’t remember ever meeting before. She sank onto the sand again, this time protected from the wind and the waves.
Attention switched to the new arrivals, and the crowd once again surged forward. Robin saw a flash of boat and the two children being plucked from its keel. Allison was hugging both her son and her daughter, while Teddy’s parents greeted him with shock and relief. David stood to one side of the group, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
Robin struggled to her feet. Everyone was accounted for except Eric. On legs that felt like limp spaghetti, she made her way toward the crowd. People parted, letting her through. Then she saw what they were all looking at. At the edge of the surf, a man’s body lay sprawled on his back on the sand, arms and legs lax, while someone—Samantha?—bent over him.
Even though she couldn’t see his upper body or face, Robin knew it was Eric. She jerked forward, fear clutching her heart. Eric! she cried in her mind. “Eric!” she breathed aloud, not wanting to believe the conclusion her intellect had jumped to. It couldn’t be…it just couldn’t be. Fate wouldn’t be that unkind.
She scrambled across the last few feet on her hands and knees, no longer able to walk. The person blocking her view pulled away. Then Robin saw him at last.
It was Eric, but it wasn’t Eric. A roaring started in Robin’s ears, a sound that increased until all other sound was obliterated.
“Robin?” she heard someone say from far off, as if they were speaking into a deep chamber.
Her attention was riveted on the man lying on the sand. Martin Marshall…Eric. Eric… Martin Marshall. He looked so much like his father, even under normal circumstances. And now, as he lay there wet, drowned, wearing the same tiny gold medal, the two men melded into one person. It was as if all the years of Robin’s life in between didn’t exist.
She gave a heartrending cry and jumped onto the sand next to him. Then she started pounding on his chest, shaking him, trying to force him back to life. She couldn’t live through it again. If he didn’t live, she wouldn’t live.
“No!” she screamed in wild determination. “No!”
Hands grasped her arms, pushing her back. Blinded by her tears, she fought the person who tried to interfere.
“Robin!” a voice commanded sternly.
“No! I have to…it can’t happen again! It can’t! I can’t let it!”
“Robin!”
Slowly, something in the timbre of the voice penetrated Robin’s hysteria.
“Robin, listen to me,” Eric said. He was sitting up. “I’m all right. I’m not hurt. I’m not drowned.”
Robin’s heart raced, her lungs couldn’t get enough air.
Samantha leaned across Eric to smooth her wet hair. “You really freaked out, Robin,” she said shakily.
“She thought I was dead,” Eric said.
Robin couldn’t pull herself back to the present. She stared at him blankly. Sixteen years was a long time to travel back and forth in a panic. Her gaze dropped to the medal. It wasn’t her imagination. She recognized it now…from then. Her gaze returned to his.
Water dripped from his hair to roll down the sides of his face. Someone had placed a blanket across his shoulders and settled hers back into place.
Their gazes never deviated from each other. Then Robin was aware of something shifting in Eric’s mind, a question posed and suddenly answered as he made the fateful connection. “Who are you?” Eric whispered intently. But it was apparent he already knew.
Sensing that something had gone horribly wrong but not knowing what, Samantha tried to placate him. “She’s Robin, Eric.”
“No, she’s not,” he returned. His voice sounded oddly hollow.
Samantha shook her head, making her loose blond curls dance in the wind. “You’re going into shock,” she decided, determined to find a simple explanation. “We need to get you all inside. Allison! We need to take them to the inn.”
Eric stood up. He made no attempt to help Robin. Instead, David hurried over to steady her on her feet.
Robin tried to ignore the curious looks as she passed through the dwindling crowd. Gwen and Colin wer
e rushed ahead, while she and the others followed. Teddy and his relatives had already left for their house, where dry warm clothes—and most probably a stern lecture—awaited.
If only she could feel something, Robin thought. But she seemed drained of all emotion. He knew! Yet all she could do was keep walking, step by step, like a zombie moving among the living.
She was rushed upstairs, forced into a warm tub, toweled off, wrapped in Samantha’s oversize white terry robe and brought to the family room, where a hot cup of tea awaited her. The twins were already there, smelling of soap and wrapped in fresh blankets, mugs of hot chocolate in their hands.
“We wanted to see the sea lions up close,” Colin said meekly in defense of their escapade. “They were playing by the rock towers and we thought…it didn’t look all that far!”
“Teddy found the boat,” Gwen added.
David came into the room, dressed warmly in dry jeans and a dark sweater. He settled on the couch next to the twins.
“You shouldn’t have even thought about it without asking for permission,” Allison said sternly. “It was a silly thing to do. If Robin and your Uncle Eric hadn’t seen you…” She took a deep breath. “And you should thank your Uncle David, too. He didn’t have to do what he did.”
“Thank you, Uncle David,” the children said together. “Thank you, Robin.”
“And don’t forget Uncle Eric when he comes in.”
“We won’t,” Gwen promised, squirming.
Robin felt the adults’ curious glances, yet she couldn’t react. Did a condemned prisoner sometimes feel the same way just before the ax fell or the rope jerked? Nothing? No pain, no fear—only a great, gaping emptiness?
Eric entered the room, and the level of tension immediately heightened. He carried anger with him the way others might carry joy. He walked to the bookcase where the photo albums were kept and withdrew a slim volume from one of the shelves. When he opened it, several newspaper clippings fluttered to the floor. He bent to retrieve only one. As he straightened, his eyes moved from it to Robin.
“One of you take the twins downstairs,” he said quietly, but with such authority that no one questioned him. The twins jumped up and Allison followed.
David stayed where he was on the couch and Samantha perched uneasily on the upholstered arm. Robin was alone where she sat farther away.
Eric stood in front of her and extended the yellowed clipping. “This is who you really are, isn’t it?”
Robin’s eyes slid away from the image of her own twelve-year-old face. It was a picture that had been taken while she was leaving the beach shortly after Martin Marshall had died. In one corner, a section of the ambulance was visible.
Eric handed the clipping to David, who passed it on to Samantha. Robin saw their startled exchange of looks.
“Isn’t it?” Eric insisted.
Robin lifted her gaze to him. He, too, had showered and changed into jeans and a patterned shirt, which he hadn’t bothered to tuck in. “Yes,” she admitted huskily.
“Get out,” he ordered coldly, with no hesitation.
“Eric!” Samantha cried, jumping to her feet. “You can’t do that! Even if she is—even if she…” She ran out of steam.
“I said get out, and I meant it,” Eric repeated.
Still, Robin could feel no pain. She stumbled to her feet and started to walk away.
“Eric! You can’t—you have to stop her!” Samantha cried. “There must be a reason! Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe—Robin? Robin, say something!”
David remained very still, very quiet. He refused to meet her gaze. She looked at Eric. Cold, hard contempt streamed steadily from his eyes and she understood why all emotion within her had been temporarily blanked out. The onrush of pain would have been too great.
As it was, no sound would pass her lips. All she could do was stand there, pleading mutely for understanding.
Her plea fell on dry soil as far as Eric was concerned. “Call her by her real name,” he said harshly. “Roberta…Roberta Farrell.”
The hated name. The hated person. Robin turned away. This time, no one tried to stop her.
ROBIN GOT AS FAR AS HER bedroom before she started to cry. Huge tears rolled down over her cheeks as she covered her mouth with both hands. The worst had happened. She’d been found out. One more day! All she’d needed was one more day, and then she would have been gone. No one would have had to know. They could remember her with warm thoughts, not bitter ones.
She sat down on the edge of the mattress and collapsed onto her side, sobs continuing to rack her body. He hated her. They all hated her. They felt betrayed. And there was absolutely nothing she could say or do that would make them feel differently. She had no defense. She’d known from the first exactly what she was doing. She’d even planned it, going so far as to invent her references. But she hadn’t meant to hurt them. She’d never meant to cause them any harm.
She had fit in so well here, because she was just as much a part of them as they were of her. And now that she had come to care for them—to love Eric—knowing that she’d caused them additional pain was torture to her. It was a punishment she would carry with her for the rest of her life. Not content to leave well enough alone, she’d made a bad situation worse. Good intentions didn’t count, not in the real world.
She sat up and rubbed at her cheeks, trying to erase all evidence of her tears. He wanted her to leave, just as she always had known that he would if ever he learned the truth. Her bags were packed. She could be out of the house in five minutes. She went to the wardrobe and dragged the suitcases outside.
Someone knocked at her door. Robin’s heart leapt. Eric! Then reality asserted itself. If Eric was at the door, it would be to castigate her for taking too long.
“Who is it?” she called softly.
“Samantha. Please, let me in.”
Robin opened the door a crack. She had a hard time meeting the young woman’s eyes. “Tell Eric I’m on my way. I won’t be five minutes.”
“I want to talk to you, Robin. Please, let me in.”
Robin braced herself for more anger as she opened the door. Samantha came in, followed by Allison. At the sight of the older sister, Robin’s stomach tightened. Allison had been suspicious of her from the first time they’d met. She had warned her not to hurt Eric. Robin didn’t think she could stand it if Allison started to attack her again.
Samantha sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the suitcases. “I saw them earlier,” she said. “When I came looking for something for you to wear. That’s why I loaned you my robe.”
Robin glanced down at what she was wearing. With everything she’d been through, she hadn’t paid any attention to the robe. “I’ll leave it on the bed,” she said tightly. Her gaze moved to Allison. Get it over with, she thought edgily.
Allison surprised her by giving a strained smile. “Samantha told me,” she said. “I don’t understand, but after what you did for Gwen and Colin, I can’t be totally against you.”
“Robin,” Samantha cut in, then corrected herself. “Roberta. Why didn’t you tell us? Why did you keep it a secret?” It was more of a plea than a demand.
“What could I say?” Robin asked.
“I thought we were friends.”
“We were.”
“Then?”
“Would we ever have become friends if I had told you the truth in the beginning? I doubt it. Eric—”
“I love Eric dearly, you know that,” Samantha interrupted. “But I don’t let him tell me what to think or who to have for a friend.”
“This is different,” Robin said stiffly.
Allison watched her steadily. “What are you going to do? Where are you going to go? Do you have a place?”
“Yes,” Robin answered through a tightening throat.
“We don’t blame you for what happened in the past, Roberta,” Samantha said. “I thought you understood that. Eric might blame you, but we don’t.”
“My name is Robin,”
Robin murmured. “It’s a nickname.”
Samantha smiled thinly. “See? You didn’t lie about everything.”
Robin turned away.
“You and your big mouth,” Allison grumbled with sisterly directness. “Here, take this,” she said, holding out a small card to Robin. “It has my address and phone number in Palo Alto. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call. And I mean that. You helped save my children’s lives.”
After Robin took the card, Allison stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her.
Robin released a trembling sigh. Samantha hugged her. “Maybe Eric will change his mind,” she said. “I know he loves you. Right now, he’s just…hurt.”
“It’s more than that and you know it. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t come here. I’m as bad as the twins. I should have thought things through. David, too. I hope he doesn’t…”
Robin couldn’t finish, but Samantha understood. “He’s made so much progress.”
“I was going to leave tonight,” Robin whispered.
“I thought that.”
“I should have left yesterday. Then everything…”
Samantha smiled wryly. “Things have a way of not working out. But who knows? Maybe this time they will. They did for the twins.”
“Take care of Eric…and David…and tell Barbara and Benjamin…” Robin bit her trembling lip. They were as close to brothers and sisters as she would ever have. And now she’d lost them.
“I will,” Samantha promised. “I’ll be in San Francisco in the fall. Do you think you’ll be there then?”
“I don’t know,” Robin said honestly. “I don’t have any idea.” She might go back to New York or to Europe. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to stay on the West Coast. Every time she looked at the Pacific, the memories would overwhelm her.
Room at Heron's Inn Page 19
