“Yes, but I haven’t been going out with him very long.”
“Do you think you could love him the way you once loved my father?”
“Honey, every relationship is different. Steve’s growing on me.”
“But it’s not like it was when you first met my father.”
She sucked in her breath. “No. Nothing will ever be like that again.”
Natalie eyed her intently. “How come?”
“Because I was eighteen, impressionable and totally naïve about love. But I want you to know it was the best thing that ever happened, because I have you. You’re my whole life! I love you so much you’ll never know.” She hugged her tightly again.
“I love you too, Mom.”
“I know it’s hard but let’s forget this phone call ever happened.”
“Okay.”
“Hey—Tris—”
Tris was standing on the crowded quai, impatiently waiting for the train to pull into the station. At the sound of Claude’s voice, he turned in his direction. His childhood buddy came running up to him.
“I’ve been looking all over for you since lunch. I just got off the phone with Giselle. Why don’t you come home with me this weekend? Her friend Helene is visiting from Neuchatel. She’s a real babe.”
He smiled. “If my nephew weren’t waiting for me, there’s nothing I’d like more.” Since the funeral he’d been too preoccupied trying to help Alain cope to pursue an active social life.
His friend sobered. “How’s he doing?” he asked as the train came into view.
“According to my parents, he’s made it through these two weeks without falling apart.”
“Sounds like progress.”
“Of a sort. Thanks for the invite, Claude. Let’s plan a ski trip in early December. By then I’m hoping Alain will be able to handle the separation better.”
“I’ll count on it.” He patted his shoulder. “Bonne chance.”
Tris nodded. “Give my best to your wife. Take care, mon ami.”
Relieved to be getting back to Caux, Tris boarded the train and looked for a seat. When he couldn’t find one he stood in front of the window at the entrance of the voiture, staring blindly at the passing landscape.
He had no doubts Giselle’s girlfriend lived up to Claude’s description of her. But even if it weren’t for Alain needing him so desperately, he wouldn’t have taken Claude up on his invitation.
Since hearing the words of the note Alain had found in the backpack, Tris had been haunted by them.
She must have felt awful when you never even called her.
Alain had said a mouthful. There hadn’t been a moment in the last two weeks that Tris hadn’t wondered about his relationship with Rachel Marsden.
He checked his watch. The train wouldn’t reach Montreux for another hour. Time enough for him to call Geneva and make a few inquiries.
Perhaps the Pensionnat du Grand-Chene was still in business and could provide him with a little information about one of its former students. If the school no longer existed, he would have to let it go.
The operator found the number and within seconds he was put through to the directrice. When Madame Soulis came on the line he introduced himself.
“Monsieur Monbrisson! It’s an honor to talk to you. I saw you on a recent television program about the expansion of your hotels in France. It was very impressive.”
“Thank you, madame.”
“How can I help you?”
“I’m inquiring about a student who attended your school twelve years ago.”
“Twelve you say? Just a moment. I’ll bring up that year on the computer.”
“She was a friend of mine, but we lost track years ago and I don’t have her old home address. Would it be possible for you to check your information for me?”
“Bien sur. What was her name?”
“Rachel Marsden.”
“Rachel? Ah, oui. She was the lovely blond American girl who came to us in the fall. I remember her particularly because she became ill and returned to the States after only a few months.”
The revelation sent an involuntary shudder through his body. Having to think fast he said, “That explains why I couldn’t reach her.”
“Yes. We were very sorry to see her go. She was an excellent student. Here is the number and address of her parents, Dr. and Mrs. Edward Marsden. As I recall, he was an eye surgeon.”
Tris jotted down the information. “Merci, madame. You’ve been of immense help.”
“Pas de quoi, monsieur.”
When they hung up, he immediately called the international operator for New Hampshire to find out if Dr. Marsden still had the same phone number as before.
There’d been a change.
He wrote down the new number, telling the operator not to connect him. It was only seven in the morning on the East Coast. He’d give it another half hour, then call.
Before he clicked off, he asked the operator if a Rachel or an R. Marsden were listed. To his surprise there was a listing with an R. It could belong to either sex, of course. Nevertheless he took down the number before hanging up.
A certain percentage of married professional women used their maiden names for business purposes. In a few minutes he would check it out first before trying to reach her parents.
The train rounded a curve and passed through a tunnel. The darkness reminded him of that one portion of his life he couldn’t remember.
Some friends from his old hockey team had long since filled him in on the time they’d spent together in Montreal. His family and doctors had been able to account for everything that had happened to him at his training camp and the subsequent accident that had put him in the hospital in Lausanne.
It was the time in between…the time on the ship and the period before he arrived at Interlaken that had eluded him all these years. In a while it was possible he would be able to talk to the woman who’d known him well enough to call him Tris.
When the train came back out into the sunlight, he should have felt a sense of relief that before the day was done, one phone call might give him closure on his past.
Yet a new dread had attacked him since learning Rachel Marsden had returned to the States a few months after arriving at the school because she wasn’t well.
My love—I’ll never forget last night as long as I live.
That one line from her note resounded in his head, causing him to break out in a cold sweat.
“Mom? Kendra’s dad has come for us.”
“Okay, honey. Have a great day. I’ll pick you two up at the rink after hockey practice.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“I love you.”
Rachel heard the front door close.
She finished brushing her hair, then slipped on her suit jacket, not wanting to be late for work. Rachel had fixed the girls’ breakfast after their sleepover, not realizing how late it had gotten.
After a quick glance around the bedroom, she hurried downstairs to get her purse which she must have left in the kitchen. When the house phone rang, she assumed it was one of Natalie’s friends who’d just missed her. She reached for the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Is this the Marsden residence?” The deep male voice on the other end spoke with only the slightest trace of accent, yet it sounded vaguely familiar.
She stirred uneasily. “Yes?”
“I’m looking for a Rachel Marsden. Do I have the right number?”
“W-who is this?” she cried softly.
After an extended silence, “Does the name Tris mean anything to you?”
Suddenly Rachel’s legs grew weak. She started to tremble as memories came flooding back.
It was Tris.
People could age, but that was his voice, his fingerprint. Its unique timbre resonated in every particle of her body, overwhelming her. He was actually alive, speaking to her from the other end of the phone line.
“H-hello, Tris.” Trying to control her panic s
he said, “I guess it was too much to expect that your nephew would be able to keep his promise.”
There was another pause. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”
“Please don’t pretend you didn’t realize Alain already called me two weeks ago. H-he told me about your amnesia,” she stammered, mortified by her loss of composure.
“I’ve been away on army maneuvers. Though I’ve phoned him every night, he never mentioned that he’d been in contact with you.”
She drew in a shaky breath, trying to recover her equilibrium. “Are you saying you made the decision to call me all on your own?”
“Bien sur,” he drawled with quiet irony. When he spoke in French, it was like she’d gone back in time where everything sounded so much more intimate.
“While I was preparing for my trip, Alain rummaged through an old backpack of mine and came across a note you’d written to me on board the QE2.
“I intended to track you down, but I couldn’t do anything about it until my military stint was over for the year.”
“And now it is?” Rachel’s voice shook despite her efforts to keep it steady.
“Yes. I’m on my way back to Montreux right now and will be getting off the train in a few minutes. Alain will be waiting for me. Be assured I will have a frank discussion with him about why it was wrong to take matters into his own hands.”
“No—” she cried out.
“No, what?” he demanded with a ring of authority in his voice reminiscent of the younger Tris who’d exhibited a powerful personality even back then.
She moistened her lips nervously. “I asked him not to tell you. He promised it would be our secret. Since he kept his end of the bargain, please don’t say anything to him about it.”
“Why did you feel you had to swear him to silence?”
Her heart jammed into her ribs. “I was very touched that he loves you so much, he wanted me to help you fill in the blanks of your memory. But I told him that it should have been you who called me if you felt the need. Since you hadn’t done that, I thought it best to forget the whole thing.”
“You did an effective job of getting through to him,” he murmured, increasing her guilt. “Aside from the fact that I don’t approve of what he did, I find your reaction even more curious.”
Her eyes closed tightly. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“If we were simply two college students who enjoyed each other’s company aboard ship, I’m interested to find out why you’re so frightened, you couldn’t be open about it with my nephew.”
“Frightened?” Perspiration beaded her hairline.
“Yes. Shall I tell you about my conversation with Madame Soulis, the directrice of your school in Geneve? According to her you became ill and had to leave Grand-Chene after only a few months.”
He knew.
Rachel almost collapsed.
Tris was no ordinary man. His genius was apparent whether he was captain of his hockey team, or head of a multimillion dollar family business.
The Monbrisson name was renowned throughout Europe, all because of his instincts which made him a force to contend with in the corporate world. He would never let this go now.
“Tris? You’ve caught me as I was walking out the door to work. I’m afraid this isn’t a good time for the kind of discussion you want to have. If you cou—”
“Don’t let me keep you,” he interrupted her. “The next time we talk, it’ll be in person,” he declared, sending a frisson of alarm through her body.
“No—please—” she cried, needing space to think, but he wasn’t giving her any.
“That’s the second time I’ve heard pure terror in your voice.”
Ignoring his astute observation she said, “No one deserves closure more than you do. I’m so sorry about your terrible accident, and I would be happy to meet you somewhere to answer any questions you have.”
“I’ll make this easy for you and see you at your house tonight.”
She groaned inwardly. There was no stopping him. “I-I have plans for this evening. If you could wait until tomorrow, I’ll take time off from work.”
“Bien. I’ll be in Concord this evening and will call you to make final arrangements. A bientot, Rachel.”
“Uncle Tris!”
As Tris stepped off the train, his nephew came flying. They gave each other a bear hug.
“Where are your grandparents?”
“In the car at the back of the station.”
“Good. Why don’t we get a drink before we join them? I’m thirsty.”
“So am I. It’s been hot for the last few days.”
“It was warm where I was, too.”
They made their way inside the gare to the food counter. Tris bought them two sodas. They wandered over by the windows away from everyone else to drink them.
“I’m glad you’re back.”
“So am I, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave again for a few more days. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
A pained expression broke out on Alain’s face. “When do you have to go?”
“As soon as I can change clothes and pack a bag.”
“Did Guy say there’s an emergency at one of the hotels?”
“No. I’m flying to New Hampshire to meet Rachel Marsden.”
The bottle almost fell out of his nephew’s hand. “You are?”
“Yes. I phoned her a little while ago. She’s expecting me tonight.”
His nephew suddenly averted his eyes, the telltale sign of his guilt. “Did she tell you I called her?” Alain asked, working the toe of his sandal against the floor.
Tris drained his bottle and put it in the receptacle. Alain followed suit. “Not exactly. She thought I was phoning because you’d broken your promise to her.”
Alain’s head reared. His eyes looked suspiciously bright. “I wouldn’t have.”
He tousled his nephew’s hair. “I know that. What I don’t understand is why the directrice of the school didn’t tell me you’d phoned her wanting the same information?”
A resigned sigh escaped Alain’s lips. “Guy got it for me from the school receptionist.”
His nephew was not only determined, but resourceful. “So…now my assistant is in on this, too.”
“Yes, but he swore he would never say anything.”
“He kept his promise.” When Tris had phoned Guy for an update on business, his assistant had been mum on the subject of Alain.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No. I think I’m very lucky to have a nephew who would go to the lengths you did to help me remember my past.”
Alain’s relief was visible. “Ms. Marsden asked me to leave it alone.”
“Do you know why?”
“She said something kind of weird.”
“What was that?”
“I shouldn’t wake up a dog if it’s sleeping.” He cocked his head. “What did she mean?”
“Can’t you guess?”
His eyes squinted up at him. “Because it might make it mad for being bothered?”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“But you’re not mad.”
If only Alain knew… So many destructive emotions were bombarding Tris, he couldn’t put a name to them.
“Let’s just say that now I’ve talked to her, I’m anxious to meet her and clear up some questions I’ve had.” He put a hand on Alain’s shoulder. “Come on. The grandparents will be wondering what’s keeping us.”
“Wait—”
“What is it?”
“You were right about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You know how Rachel promised there’d never be anyone else for her but you?”
“I remember.”
“Well, she broke it just like you said she would.”
“You mean she’s married.”
“I guess she already told you. She has a daughter, too.” He kept on chatting. “Her name’s Natalie
. She’s the one who answered the phone when I called.”
Tris felt the impact of his nephew’s words like the grenade that had exploded a little too near him during one of the mock raids.
Mon Dieu.
Ever since Alain had read him the note, he’d been plagued by a sense of unease where his relationship with Rachel Marsden had been concerned. Since speaking with Madame Soulis, he’d entertained certain suspicions.
After talking to Rachel, he was in no doubt.
He’d made her pregnant.
Why else had she been so desperate to keep things hushed up.
Was Natalie his flesh and blood?
Rachel could have had several children by now. If his child were alive, the eldest would be Tris’s son or daughter.
Then again, she might have given up their baby for adoption, or miscarried…or heaven forbid, ended her pregnancy. Whatever the answer, he could scarcely comprehend it.
“Uncle Tris? Are you all right?”
“Of course,” he lied. “I’m just anxious to leave for the States so I can meet Rachel Marsden and get filled in on my past.”
“I wish I could go with you.”
He grimaced. “I wish it were possible, but this is something I have to do alone.”
“I know. I’m glad you’re going to find out what happened. Maybe then your headaches will go away.”
Tris repressed a groan and hugged his nephew.
“I swear I’ll be back in time to take you camping tomorrow afternoon. For the time being, I’ll tell your grandparents some unexpected business has come up I have to deal with.”
“Okay.”
Before they went out to his parents’ car, he phoned his pilot in Geneva and told him to get the jet ready for takeoff.
CHAPTER THREE
BY THE time Natalie and Kendra came running out the doors of the ice rink to the car, Rachel was an emotional disaster.
“Hi, Mom!”
“Hi, Mrs. Marsden!”
Both girls put their bags in the trunk, then got in the back seat.
“How was practice?” Rachel asked as she drove out of the parking lot.
To her relief they regaled her with enough information that they were still talking about it when she pulled in Pearsolls’ driveway a few minutes later to let Kendra out.
Their New-Found Family Page 3