by Seton, Cora
“I’m not cocky. I just know my capabilities.” She tossed first this time and felt a surge of satisfaction when her coin slid close to the wall again. “And I know your lack of them.”
Clem frowned, tossed and swore. Renata went to fetch the coins.
“Nine–six. Clem is still in the lead,” Avery said.
“You got this, Renata,” Greg said quietly.
Renata tossed. Waited for Clem’s throw and went to fetch them again.
“Nine–seven,” Avery said.
“Keep your eyes on the prize,” Greg coached from beside. Renata tossed again.
Won.
“Don’t think you’ve got this,” Clem said. “You’re going to choke. You know you are. No woman beats a man when it counts.”
She nearly laughed but instead thanked Clem for the most energizing thing he could have said to her. She’d faced this girl-boy stuff all her life.
She won the next round, too.
“Nine–nine,” Avery said. “Come on, Renata!”
“You win, and I’ll make you pay,” Clem growled. “You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
“Focus,” Greg said calmly behind her. “Take your time.”
It was as if Greg’s love was surrounding her, steadying her, holding her in its arms and guiding her shot. She raised the nickel. Tossed it—
And knew there was no way Clem could win.
With a growl he threw his nickel so hard at the wall it bounced back almost to his feet.
“You’re a bitch, you know that, Ludlow? A goddamn bitch.”
He stormed out before she could answer, slamming the door so hard the entire building shuddered.
“Better catch him before he runs off without paying,” Angus said.
“I got it all on film,” Byron said. “You were awesome, Renata.”
“Yes, you were.” Greg enveloped her in an embrace. “Jesus, I was afraid I’d lost you for good. Don’t ever scare me like that again, you hear me?”
“What do you need all that money for, anyway?” Avery demanded. “Is Clem right? Do you have gambling debts all over Montana?”
Renata shook her head. “Of course not. It’s just—I made a promise a long time ago, and I have to pay it off before I—well, before I can marry anyone.”
“Who did you promise money to?” Byron asked.
She could tell Greg wanted to know, too, but didn’t want to push her. She supposed it was time to come clean. These people were on her side. They’d understand.
“A long time ago, when I was just out of school, I was doing a documentary on a girls’ school in Peru.” She saw recognition dawn on Greg’s face. He’d seen the movie, after all. “A mudslide happened while I was on a field trip with them. It took out their village. Left all twenty-three girls orphaned.”
“Oh, my God,” Avery said. “What happened to them?”
“Their teachers found them a new school building and kept them as boarders until they were grown enough to be on their own. I wanted… to stay,” she admitted. “To help raise them. You have no idea how much I wanted that.” She got her voice under control again. “But that wasn’t what they needed.”
“They needed money,” Angus said quietly, meeting Greg’s gaze. He raised his eyebrows as if to say, “See?”
“That’s right. They needed money. Those first years were especially tough. Every bit I sent to them meant so much. I pledged I would pay the way of the girls until they had graduated. And now they almost all have. There’s just a handful of them left, but their bus broke down, and so did the boiler in their school, and there’s always something—” Her voice wobbled. The shock of nearly losing everything important had finally hit her.
“Why didn’t you ask?” Greg was staring at her like he couldn’t believe his ears.
“Ask what?” Renata had expected Greg to be as jubilant as she was, but he looked—angry. A trickle of dread threaded through her.
“Ask for help.”
“Why would I ask for help?” She didn’t know what he was talking about. The girls were her responsibility. The only reason she was at Base Camp was to raise money for them. It had nothing to do with anyone else.
“Because we’re your friends,” Avery said in astonishment.
“Because we’re supposed to get married,” Greg said. “I’m going to be your husband. Why wouldn’t you ask me to help you with something so big?”
Renata opened her mouth, but she didn’t know what to say. “I didn’t think you’d…” She trailed off.
“You didn’t think what? That I’d say yes? That I’d care?” Greg’s disbelief was clear.
“It had nothing to do with you,” Renata tried to explain. “It happened way before you met me. It was my responsibility.”
“Nothing to do—” Greg broke off, stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked in a circle. “How can you say that? I was there—”
Renata had no idea what he meant. They stared at each other.
“I was there,” Greg said again more distinctly. “Right behind you that whole first night. I searched the camp with you for those girls’ parents. I gave you blankets, food and water to give to them. I helped translate for you. Kept you upright when you nearly collapsed from exhaustion and shock—” He pulled his hands out of his pockets. Lifted them toward the ceiling. “You never even saw me, did you? I might as well not have been there. Or here, evidently.”
“But—” Renata struggled to find words. Greg had been there? Those had been his hands holding her up? His arms holding her when it got too much? “I didn’t—”
“No, I know you didn’t. Because you were too damn busy trying to save the world all on your own. Which is really freaking admirable, don’t get me wrong, except look around you, Renata. We’re all here, too. We’re all trying to save the world, too!”
“I would have donated money,” Avery said softly. “I still will, if they need more.”
“Me, too,” Byron said.
“Me, as well,” Angus said. “That’s what it means to be part of something, lass. It means you’re not on your own. You don’t have to do it all by yourself.”
“I would have loved to lighten your burden,” Greg said. “I was looking for ways to connect with you. Trying everything I could think of. And you bet our future on the toss of a coin. Did you secretly hope you’d lose?”
“No! Of course not.” To Renata’s horror, tears stung her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry in front of everyone. Not while Byron was still filming. Didn’t Greg know how hard it had been to hold back from him all this time?
He probably didn’t.
She’d left him in the dark about her motivations from the start.
“I thought you had some horrible past you had to deal with. An ex-husband, or bad debts, or I don’t know—a criminal record.” He flung his arms wide. “But this is why you kept pushing me away? You just couldn’t bear not to do everything yourself? We could have solved this in a minute if you’d trusted me enough to tell me.” When she didn’t answer, he stepped closer. “Why didn’t you tell me? You must have had a good reason.”
How could she explain the rules that had kept her going this far? They didn’t make sense unless you’d had a childhood like hers. “People… leave,” she finally burst out helplessly. “When you need them, they disappear. So I don’t need anyone.”
Greg let out a ragged breath. “That’s the thing, Renata. I won’t disappear. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
They stared at each other.
“Well?” he asked.
“Well, what?”
“You’ve got your money. Are you going to marry me at least?”
She blinked. This wasn’t the proposal she’d hoped for, but it was her own damn fault. She’d been so sure no one would ever want to help her she’d never once even asked. And all this time, Greg had been waiting for her to notice him. To remember when he’d been there for her before. To see that he was trying to be there for her now.<
br />
She’d always thought her single-mindedness was her best trait. Maybe it was her worst, too.
“Yes,” she said in a small voice. “I’ll marry you.”
“Good. I… God, I love you, Renata, but I…” Greg wheeled around and followed the same path Clem had just taken out the door. He didn’t slam it quite so hard, but he didn’t close it softly, either.
Everyone watched him go.
“Congratulations?” Avery ventured after a long moment.
Renata laughed. And started to sob.
Now what was she supposed to do?
Chapter Seventeen
‡
“I think that’s the least romantic proposal I’ve ever heard,” Boone said an hour later when he caught up to Greg outside where he was splitting a pile of logs left over from summertime. Wood, while a renewable resource, wasn’t what Greg would call green energy, but it was nice to have a bonfire now and then, and he figured it was a better idea to throw himself into a helpful exercise rather than vent his frustration some other, far more destructive, way.
“Well, it was a proposal,” Greg growled. “And she said yes, so you should be happy.”
“Don’t you mean you should be happy?”
Greg didn’t know what he was. He couldn’t get that last game with Clem out of his head. The way she’d said yes to the possibility of losing him just for the chance of winning all that money. Every time he thought about what could have happened, his chest hurt so bad he thought it would split in two.
He understood she thought she owed it to the girls in Peru, and he supposed he couldn’t blame her for not remembering he’d been there, too. Still, he couldn’t seem to suppress the sense of panic that kept closing his throat.
“What if some other disaster comes along that’s more important than I am?”
Boone’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that what this is about?”
Greg wasn’t sure. Ever since he met Renata he thought he’d been put here in order to help her—protect her—whatever she needed. He’d tried to do that in Peru, and he’d tried to do it again here during her struggle against Clem.
She hadn’t wanted his help, though. She’d wanted to fight him on her own. She hadn’t even told him about the money she wanted to provide to the school in Peru.
“She doesn’t trust me. She doesn’t depend on me,” he said.
“Those are two very different things. Modern women don’t want to depend on men. They want to do things on their own, like we do.”
“But—”
“The trick is to be there. To be ready in case they do need you—or want you.”
“I can’t be ready if she won’t even tell me what’s going on,” Greg complained.
“I think that changes over time, though, don’t you?” Boone asked, picking up some of the split logs and beginning to pile them up. “The longer you know Renata, the more unspoken clues you’ll pick up on, and the more she’ll learn about you, too. Once she sees you’re able to listen without taking over for her—that you can back her up—she’ll tell you more about what’s bothering her.”
“How do you know all this?” Greg demanded, resting on his ax.
“You think Riley simply opened up and let me into her life? She’s a modern woman, too, and a long time ago I hurt her—bad. That kind of thing doesn’t heal over in an instant.”
Greg considered this. Why had he ever expected love would come easy? People were always complicated. Life had so many twists and turns.
“I heard Renata mention foster care. Can you imagine losing your parents and then being passed from family to family? In the best of circumstances that would be heartbreaking. I bet she learned a long time ago it was safest to depend on only herself.”
Greg didn’t even want to think about Renata’s past. When he tried to picture her losing her parents so young, it made him want to cradle her in his arms forever. He wanted to protect her. Was that so bad? It galled him she wanted to protect herself.
As soon as he had the thought he had to shake his head at his own stupidity. He couldn’t fault her for not wanting to depend on a man to fight her battles for her—or pay her bills. Boone was right; that probably hadn’t worked out so well for her in the past.
“Guess I should go back in there and apologize.”
“Damn straight you should. Go find your fiancée,” Boone urged. “Celebrate. The worst is over.”
Was it?
God, he hoped so.
“So I’ll be able to pay off everything I’ve promised within a few days,” Renata said, clutching her phone to her cheek. To her surprise, Clem’s payment had already gone through. She’d expected him to balk and make her hound him to come through on his promised bet, but the money was in her account plain as day, and she wanted to move it over to the school’s account before that somehow changed.
There was silence on the other end of the line as Mayra took this in. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said. “It almost sounds as if you thought you might not be able to come through with the money over the next few years.”
“Well… I mean, of course I would, no matter what. I said so,” Renata stammered. “It’s just… now I can pay early and be done—” She bit off the end of the sentence. “It hasn’t always been easy,” she added lamely, wishing she could take the words back the minute she’d said them. Mayra hadn’t known it wasn’t easy, and she’d never wanted her to know. Now it was as if she was asking for some kind of pat on the head. That had never been her intent.
Another silence. “Renata,” Mayra began and then stopped. “We thought… You always made it sound… If we’d known it was a hardship for you to support the girls, we never would have asked.”
A twinge of anger twisted through Renata. Mayra and Gabriela had to have known it was a hardship, at least at first. “I was twenty-six when the mudslide happened,” she pointed out.
“Yes, twenty-six. A rich girl from a foreign country come to see how the rest of the world lived,” Mayra said flatly. “With your fancy video cameras and entourage.”
Renata bit back a disbelieving laugh. “Fancy cameras? Those were provided by the grant I’d won. And my entourage was another film student. You know that. I paid his way.”
“You studied at a famous university,” Mayra pointed out.
“With scholarships and money I saved! I told you I grew up in foster care. Anything the school didn’t cover, I did.”
“But… all this time, you sent money every month. You never missed once. We thought—”
“What? That I’d married some rich man and was siphoning funds off from his bank account?” Renata’s voice rose even as she knew she had only herself to blame.
“No. You never mentioned a man,” Mayra said. “We assumed it was some family connection.”
“Well, it wasn’t! It was me. I took a job the minute I got back from Peru and kept it all this time. I’ve sent you every penny I didn’t need to survive myself, and I was glad to do it!”
“You don’t sound glad.”
Mayra’s words brought her up short. “I am glad,” Renata reiterated. “I’d do exactly the same thing again. It’s just—I’ve been so worried all this time. So scared I’d let you all down. My job—I nearly lost it, and I didn’t know what I was going to do—”
When Mayra spoke again, she’d softened. “I wish you’d told us. We never meant to put a burden on you like this.” She let out a breath. “This is my fault. I never asked questions because I didn’t want to know the answers. You’ve been a godsend all these years. What a fool I was to assume some man or family was behind you. You always took on so much responsibility even when you were here. You had to give every girl in the school a chance to say good-night every night, remember? Every one her fair share. And all this time you were working yourself to the bone for them! And us. Gabriela will be heartbroken when she knows what we’ve done.”
“You don’t have to tell her,” Renata said. “I was happy to. It made me feel useful to hel
p the girls.”
“But what about you? Your life. Your family? You’ve never married, or—”
“I’m getting married,” Renata said. At least, she thought she was. Greg’s proposal hadn’t exactly been confidence-inspiring.
“Really? To whom?” Mayra asked.
“His name is Greg. He was actually there, the day of the mudslide.”
“Greg Devon!” Mayra exclaimed. “That useful young man. The one who helped you all day and night! I didn’t know you’d kept in touch.”
Renata held the phone away from her face, then brought it back. “Yes, that’s the one,” she said slowly. Mayra had remembered him when she hadn’t. What was wrong with her?
It had been the shock, she decided. The quick flip of her life from worrying about only herself to worrying about a busload of girls. “Mayra,” she said. “I’m so embarrassed.” She related the truth of it.
Mayra laughed. “I believe it,” she said. “Gabriela and I had already seen our share of life’s ups and downs, but that was the first time you’d seen such a disaster. There’s no shame in the fact that you focused on the one thing you could do. You helped us so much that day. All the girls remember the way you hunted for their parents. It’s part of what makes you so special to us.”
“You really remember Greg?” Renata asked. “You think he’ll make a good husband?”
“He’ll make a fine husband. He knows how to help,” Mayra said firmly.
“I wish you could come to the wedding,” Renata said softly.
“Me, too. We’ll all be there in our hearts,” Mayra promised.
“Renata?”
She turned to find Greg had entered the manor’s kitchen, where she’d gone to find a little peace and quiet.
“Mayra, I’ve got to go. Thank you for everything.”
“Thank you,” Mayra said meaningfully, and Renata’s heart warmed. Despite all the difficulty of the last ten years, she knew she’d done something significant. The girls who’d lost their families the day of the mudslide had gained a new family with Mayra and Gabriela, and she’d helped make that possible. If she had to do it all over again, she’d make the same choice.