Memories of You

by Margot Dalton

  He gave her a quick smile. “So what are you saying, Camilla? You think dreams that don’t come true are the best kind?”

  “They’re probably the safest,” Camilla said after a moment. “You know what they say…be careful what you wish for, because you might get it.”

  “I suppose there’s some truth in that, all right. But ever since, I haven’t met anybody else I could talk with so easily about everything under the sun. It was a rare experience.”

  She stole a glance at him, but all she could see was his aquiline profile, strong and unrevealing against the blue sky beyond the window.

  “Besides,” he went on, “my dream girl could hardly have been more incompatible than the woman I eventually married, and that was a choice that’s caused all kinds of pain for my whole family. So, in a way, I still look on the whole thing as a lost opportunity. Especially,” he added quietly, “since life doesn’t always give you a second chance.”

  He sounded so unhappy that Camilla longed to reach over and touch his arm, but she restrained herself. Instead, she looked around at the peaceful, rolling countryside they were passing through.

  “It’s nice out here,” she said. “Look at all these beautiful acreages.”

  “Don’t you ever go for drives in the country?”

  “Not very often.”

  “So what do you do for pleasure, Camilla?”

  “Well, I go for long walks on campus and play with my cats, and paint a little, and I read a lot…”

  The words sounded so hollow in her ears that she was embarrassed.

  What a contrast to this man’s life, with his brood of children and his vast prairie ranch, his surprising return to college after a twenty-year absence, his airplane and lavish houses…

  “Here we are,” he announced. They pulled down a long approach road and into a yard where a light plane was sitting at the end of an airstrip. “Look, everybody’s waiting for you, Camilla.”

  VANESSA STARED OUT the window of the plane, thinking how much she always loved this time of year and how desperately she missed the countryside around the ranch.

  She would have been humiliated if anybody knew what she was thinking, though. The whole family believed that all she cared about was clothes, makeup and boys. Vanessa liked it that way. She was terrified of showing her real feelings, and so skilled at creating a facade of brittle shallowness that it had become second nature.

  She leaned forward to look down at a tightly bunched herd of cattle moving slowly along a country road. It was too far away to see details clearly, but she knew the herd would be followed by a couple of riders with their cotton bandannas pulled up over their mouths and noses to protect themselves from the choking clouds of dust.

  Vanessa sighed and looked at Amy who was in the seat next to her, after losing a fierce battle with Ari over who would sit beside Camilla on the plane trip. Amy had unfastened her seat belt and was kneeling on the seat, also staring down at the cattle.

  “Maybe that’s Tom,” she said, jumping up and down in excitement. “Hey, Ari, look at the cattle! Do you think Tom’s riding down there?”

  “Don’t be stupid. It’s not Tom,” Vanessa said shortly. “The ranch is still a hundred miles away.”

  Amy glared at her sister for a moment, then returned to her study of the rolling landscape below the plane. Vanessa settled back in the seat and glanced at Camilla Pritchard’s smooth blond head.

  This slender woman was everything Vanessa wished she could be.

  Camilla was elegant, quiet and intellectual, a selfpossessed woman who knew exactly what she was and where she was going. There was nothing shallow or tawdry about her. Though she was dressed casually for the weekend in jeans and a cotton shirt, she still exuded an air of pure quality.

  Vanessa always felt so cheap. Even her looks seemed flashy and overdone, with black hair and blue eyes and pale skin, as if nature was deliberately trying to make her conspicuous.

  Just like your mother, people had been saying to her since she was a little girl, stroking her hair in admiration. What a pretty little girl, Vanessa. You’re the image of your mother.

  She gritted her teeth and rolled her head on the seat back.

  Vanessa was tormented by a constant fear that she’d turn out to be the same kind of person as her mother. How could you look so much like somebody and not have inherited her personality, as well?

  In Vanessa’s opinion, there was no point in having feelings and caring about others, being sensitive and kind and considerate. Not if people thought you were going to turn out just like your mother. No, it was better to be coldly, deliberately selfish right from the start As soon as she reached adolescence, she’d begun to play the role.

  By now she didn’t really know how to be different. In fact, Vanessa was growing increasingly convinced that everyone had been right all along. She must be cold and selfish like her mother or she wouldn’t have been able to fool everybody for all these years.

  Involuntarily, she glanced at Enrique who sat up front with Jon.

  This was the boy’s first ride in the plane, and his first trip to the ranch. Vanessa could feel his excitement.

  There were lots of times she could sense what Enrique was thinking. She knew that sometimes he was afraid, and often humiliated by the need to accept her father’s generosity. He was lonely, too, yearning to reach out to her and Steven for friendship. And at the center of him was a dark well of sorrow that he needed to talk about. But the poor boy had no friends his own age to listen while he talked.

  Vanessa felt sorry for him, and passionately admired his courage. She couldn’t imagine being all alone in a strange, faraway country, making her own way without anybody’s help.

  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 u
nder 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.