Their New-Found Family

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Their New-Found Family Page 6

by Rebecca Winters


  “Natalie—”

  “I know. I won’t say anything about our plans. All I want to do is tell her I met my father and he loves me the way her dad loves her.”

  Emotion swamped Rachel so she couldn’t talk. After giving her daughter a resigned nod, she went downstairs to get her cell phone out of her purse.

  Like feathers from a pillow being lost in the wind, Rachel felt the careful world she’d constructed had just blown apart, never to be put back together again.

  When she heard her mother’s voice on the end of the phone, all she could say was “Mom—” before she broke down sobbing.

  “What’s the matter, darling?”

  Rachel sank down on the couch. It took a few minutes to get herself under control before she told her everything. When she’d finished, she said, “I honestly don’t know what to do.”

  “Natalie has always been your first priority, so of course you know what to do. He’s asking for your help to establish a relationship with his daughter. Naturally he needs you there. Otherwise it won’t work. I must say I admire the way he’s handling this. It takes a real man to acknowledge what has happened and want Natalie in his life.”

  She closed her eyes tightly. “He’s angry, Mom.”

  “I would be, too.”

  “You think I’m horrible for never telling him, don’t you.”

  “Rachel Marsden. You know me better than that. Once upon a time I was eighteen years old without the vision to understand anything but my own pain.

  “If your father had asked me to marry him after only knowing me ten days, and then he’d disappeared from my life, I’m quite sure I would have done exactly what you did and raised the baby by myself. You’ve been a remarkable mother, darling. Your father and I have always been very proud of you.”

  “I could never have survived without your love and support, Mom. Thank you. Thank you for all you’ve done for me. All you still do,” she whispered. The tears dripped off her chin.

  “You don’t need to thank me. Now that Tris knows about Natalie, let him shoulder some of the responsibility. Obviously he wants to. It will help dissipate his pain for all the years he missed being a father to her. As his nephew Alain told you, it might help cure his residue headaches from the accident.

  “In time I’m convinced he’ll let go of his anger. But if you fight him, you risk injuring your relationship with Natalie. That would be the real tragedy.”

  She sniffed. “You’re right.”

  “Take your father’s advice. Don’t try to solve everything all at once. Remember his favorite movie about the psychiatrist who wrote a book called Baby Steps?”

  It was Rachel’s favorite film, too. She let out a laugh in spite of her pain. “I remember. It’s hilarious.”

  “The title’s instructive,” her mother reminded her.

  “There’s just one problem. I don’t like leaving you.”

  “Good heavens—I hope that’s not true! I have my own life, darling. This is going to be a real vacation for you and Natalie. Enjoy it and stop worrying about me. There is such a thing as the phone.”

  “I know, but—”

  “No buts. Think of what this is going to mean to Natalie.”

  “Mom?”

  Rachel raised her head in time to see Natalie race down the stairs toward her. The stars in her eyes said it all.

  “I’m on the phone with Nana, honey.”

  “Can I talk to her?”

  “Of course. Go ahead.” She handed it to her.

  “Does Nana know about Dad?” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  A smile broke out on Natalie’s face. “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “Kendra looked up Dad’s picture on the Internet and croaked!”

  The Fasten Seat Belts sign went on.

  “Oh my gosh, Mom!” Natalie cried a few minutes later as Tris’s private jet started making its descent. “Is that Lake Geneva?”

  “Yes, and there’s Mount Blanc in the French Alps. It’s almost sixteen thousand feet high.” Though it was seven in the evening Swiss time, the sun still reflected off the snowy peaks.

  “It’s so beautiful I can’t believe it!”

  The last time Rachel had seen Switzerland from this altitude, she’d been on her way home to Concord, so heartsick over Tris’s defection, and so nauseated without knowing the reason why, she couldn’t appreciate anything.

  Today everything was different. Tris would be waiting for them at the airport. It had been ten days since Natalie had seen her father. She’d been going crazy waiting for this moment.

  Though Rachel was nervous of what the future held, she knew the decision to bring Natalie to Switzerland was the right one.

  Rachel had grown up with a wonderful father. Every child should be so blessed. Now it was her daughter’s turn to know that same sense of belonging and security.

  The Marsden family had been dominated by females for the last couple of years. What a change it would be for Natalie to feel a father’s strong arms around her, and bask in his loving reassurance. There was no doubt in Rachel’s mind Tris would provide all of those things for their daughter.

  Even if he won’t provide the same things for me.

  She shivered involuntarily.

  The next few minutes passed by in a blur before the jet touched down and taxied to a stop.

  “Oh, Mom—I’m so excited!”

  As they undid their seat belts, a customs agent came aboard. He welcomed them to Switzerland and stamped their passports.

  A private jet—

  Preferential treatment—

  This was just the beginning of what it was going to be like to live in Tris’s exclusive world for a little while. Natalie wasn’t the only one enchanted by her father who appeared bigger than life. Rachel had to keep reminding herself this was her new reality.

  The steward flashed Natalie a smile before escorting her to the exit. Rachel reached for her purse and followed them.

  She was glad she’d worn a wrinkle-resistant outfit for the flight which had started at six-thirty this morning. The casual yellow top and white and yellow floral print skirt was summery, yet dressy enough for whatever Tris had planned.

  Just before she reached the opening, she heard Natalie call out, “Dad!” When next Rachel looked, she watched her daughter go flying down the steps into her father’s arms, solving the problem of levitation for all time.

  He swung her around, filling the air with his deep, rich laughter. The sound thrilled Rachel to her bones. So did the sight of him in an open necked, vivid blue sport shirt and tan khakis defined by his rock-hard thighs.

  She’d experienced this same breathless feeling ten days ago. It wasn’t supposed to have happened again. Her pulse wasn’t supposed to race this fast.

  In fact she was so flustered by her reaction to him, she stumbled near the bottom of the stairs. If Tris hadn’t made a lightning move to steady her, she would have fallen flat on her face. In that instant she felt his touch on her arm like a scorch mark.

  “Thank you,” she said in a shaky voice. “The heel of my sandal caught.” When she raised her flushed face to him, she discovered his gaze taking inventory of her hair and features caught in the sun’s slanting rays.

  Maybe it was a trick of light but she thought she saw something flare in his dark brown eyes, reminding her of that moment on the ship when they’d first met.

  She’d been told she had first sitting in the dining room at a table with some other students. When she finally found it, she realized she was late. Everyone had already started eating.

  As she took her place, Tris, who was seated across from her, happened to glance up. That’s when it happened. Like coming in contact with a livewire, there was this instant bolt of electricity that sizzled and burned both of them at the same moment. He stopped chewing.

  Somehow she managed to sit down before she fell. By some miracle she made it through lunch, but the intense attraction between them wa
s so overwhelming, she never quite caught her breath again.

  Though it had been a decade and more, it seemed he still had that effect on her.

  Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the steward stowing their luggage in the trunk of a gleaming black Mercedes sedan parked a few yards off.

  She’d seen none of these trappings with the younger Tris who’d taken time off from his rigorous hockey schedule and studies for a little adventure at sea. They were simply two students enjoying being on their own, doing the crazy little things you did at that age when you were madly in love.

  Yet in that tiny slice of time, something earthshaking had happened, with Natalie the result.

  “Who wants to ride in front with me?”

  “I do!” Natalie answered on cue.

  “Then come on.” Tris held the front and rear passenger doors open for her and Rachel. “Your grandparents are expecting us.”

  He couldn’t have said anything to alarm Rachel more. She’d hoped to talk privately with him before meeting his parents. No doubt his mother and father would have already condemned her for keeping news of Tris’s child from ever coming to light. Rachel couldn’t blame them. They didn’t have the benefit of understanding her motives.

  For Natalie’s sake she would have to put on her best face to get through dinner, but she was dreading it.

  As she climbed in the back, the luxurious leather upholstery caused her skirt to ride up, exposing one silken-clad leg. Embarrassed, she quickly tugged the material back down, but not soon enough to escape Tris’s all-seeing gaze.

  “Where’s Alain?” Natalie asked once he’d taken his place behind the wheel.

  “He’s helping them get dinner ready. Your grand-mere’s making you something very special.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Louise.”

  “That’s pretty. What’s my grandfather’s name?”

  “Marcel.”

  “Can I call them Grand-mere Louise and Papa Marcel?”

  Tris chuckled. “They’ll love it.”

  Before long they’d left the airport for the centre ville. The familiar pointed arrow French road signs brought back dozens of memories, all to do with Tris.

  Natalie’s head turned every which way, taking in the stately grandeur of the buildings for which the cosmopolitan city of Geneva with its jet d’eau was famous. She asked her father one question after another. Tris never seemed to tire of answering them.

  Her natural zest for life appeared to be a constant source of pleasure to him. In Natalie’s company he seemed younger, even carefree. The more father and daughter interacted so naturally, Rachel caught glimpses of the old Tris who’d displayed a fatal masculine charm even back then.

  That same charisma was in evidence now, bowling over both daughter and mother. To Rachel’s horror, she was helpless to do anything about it, and she’d only been in his company for a half hour.

  What would happen after a whole week?

  For the most part, the highway to Montreux followed the picturesque shoreline. It paralleled the tracks where a quaint red train was headed for Geneva. She could tell her daughter was hard-pressed to know whether to look at the shimmering blue water on one side of them, or the lush vineyards of the hillsides on the other.

  Rachel had feasted her eyes on this fairy tale wonderland many times before, all by bus, train or lake steamer. Being chauffeured to the Monbrisson family home in Tris’s luxury car was something else again.

  When they reached Montreux and had pulled into a heavily wooded private drive, the sun had gone down behind the Alps. Partially hidden in the foliage was a wonderful old manor house.

  It was the kind of estate her school friends had rhapsodized over from the deck of the steamer as it had pulled into the dock of Chillon castle.

  At eighteen years of age, suffering from a broken heart, Rachel had viewed everything so differently back then. Her pain had been too exquisite. Montreux was Tris’s home. He lived in one of those fabulous houses. The Chateau de Chillon he’d promised to show her had made up part of his playground.

  But at that moment in time she hadn’t been able to see anything but him, could find no joy. Rachel hadn’t been able to feel anything but despair that he’d walked away from her without looking back.

  Yet twelve years later, here he was sitting in front of her, his dark head and broad shoulders an imposing silhouette in the twilight.

  The car rolled to a stop. At the same moment Tris shut off the purring motor, two older people and a young teenage boy emerged from the side entrance of the house. Rachel’s glance happened to meet Tris’s in the rearview mirror. His look of asperity left her in little doubt he viewed her as the enemy.

  She felt the blood pound in her ears before she slid out to join Natalie on the other side of the car. Tris got there first and put an arm around their daughter, urging her toward his parents.

  Rachel heard their cries of delight before he said, “Maman? Papa? This is my daughter Natalie, and her mother, Rachel Marsden.”

  “Ma precieuse—” Louise ran to hug her granddaughter. Not even the semidarkness could hide the similarity in their coloring and body type. Tris looked like his mother which explained the resemblance.

  Alain and Marcel Monbrisson were blue eyed and dark blond, though the older man’s hair revealed streaks of gray. Both were tall and lanky.

  Tris’s father eyed Rachel for an overly long moment, but she saw no accusation in his expression before he did something surprising and kissed her on both cheeks.

  “Welcome, Rachel. You’ve brought us a priceless gift,” he said in excellent English.

  Tears stung her eyes. She fought to stave them off. “Natalie’s been so excited to meet her grandparents.”

  “We’ve been counting the minutes ourselves, haven’t we, Alain.”

  Rachel looked down at Tris’s solemn-faced nephew who stood close to his grandfather. One day he would grow up to be handsome like his deceased father.

  “Salut, Alain.”

  “Salut,” he answered, looking surprised she’d said something to him in French. His eyes stared at her in apprehension.

  “It looks like your uncle wanted answers to the past without anyone’s help.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m glad you called me first.”

  “You are?”

  “It prepared me. To be honest, I’m more grateful to you than you know.” She felt his relief. Without conscious thought, she reached out to give him a quick hug.

  “We’re all grateful to Alain.”

  At the sound of Tris’s vibrant voice, Rachel swung around to confront him and his mother. In the background she could see Natalie in her grandfather’s arms.

  “Alain’s our angel,” Louise Monbrisson asserted, stepping forward to hug him before kissing Rachel on both cheeks. “I was so shattered by Tris’s accident, I never thought to go through his backpack after the accident. I just put it away in a closet.

  “After he graduated from the university and moved into his own home in Caux, we sent everything with him including the pack. Unseen hands must have guided Alain to open it.”

  Unseen hands had done what Rachel should have done years earlier, but she didn’t feel any animosity coming from Tris’s mother. There was no rebuke in her words. For her son’s sake, she would have had every reason to lash out at Rachel.

  “Maman?” Tris murmured. “As you’ve gathered, this is the woman who wrote me that letter on the ship.”

  His declaration meant there were no secrets in their household. Shaken by his boldness Rachel said, “I—it’s a privilege to meet you, Madame.”

  “Call me Louise, please—” his mother implored.

  Rachel didn’t see any condemnation in her eyes, either. The Monbrisson’s kindness was very humbling and unexpected. “If you’ll call me Rachel.”

  “Mais bien sur.” She sounded like Tris just then, yet she spoke excellent English when she had to. Rachel could only marvel at their fam
ily’s language abilities.

  “Come in the house.” She linked her arm through Rachel’s. “After your flight, I’m sure you’re anxious to refresh yourselves. I don’t know how hungry you are, but I made dinner.”

  “We’re starving, Grand-mere!” Natalie piped up from behind, causing the others to chuckle, particularly her father. It saved Rachel from having to say anything.

  Though their initial warm welcome couldn’t have come as a greater surprise, Rachel’s emotions were still in turmoil. She hadn’t had an appetite in days, and feared she wouldn’t be able to do justice to the meal. Undoubtedly Louise had gone to a great deal of trouble to prepare it.

  They crossed through the vestibule into a large, main floor drawing room filled with nineteenth century decor and tapestries. Beyond it she could see the dining room through some tall paneled doors. Overhead there was an ancient looking vaulted ceiling, prompting Natalie to ask if this had once been a fortress.

  Tris hugged his daughter to him. “When I was a boy, I used to pretend it was. But you’ll see the difference when we tour the Chateau de Chillon later on in the week.”

  “Mom went through that castle with her school friends.”

  Tris shot Rachel a dark glance. She looked away hastily, afraid to see the reproach in his eyes for having come to Montreux without trying to contact him.

  But at that point in time she hadn’t known she was pregnant. It wasn’t until after she’d returned to the States that the reason for her flulike symptoms became obvious.

  Louise put an arm around Natalie. “Let me show you to the guest bathroom.”

  Though it might have been a coincidence, Rachel suspected Louise had sensed her son’s tension and chose that moment to intervene. Whatever the reason, Rachel was thankful to escape his forbidding presence for a few minutes and follow his mother to the other side of the room.

  Natalie appeared oblivious to the undercurrents. She was too busy marveling over her brand-new world. Rachel saw nothing in her daughter’s behavior to indicate she felt any strangeness.

  On the contrary, she seemed to embrace Tris’s family so naturally, it was like she’d always known them. In her eagerness to rejoin them, Natalie ran out of the bathroom seconds later without hearing Rachel ask her to wait.

 

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