Cole Cameron's Revenge

by Sandra Marton

"Yeah." Cole cleared his throat again. "A whole lot." "As if you were my father?"

  "Exactly as if I were your father."

  Panicked wings seemed to flutter in Faith's breast as her son smiled and went into Cole's arms. He could never know the truth, she thought desperately. Never-or he would do as he'd wanted to do all along. He'd go to court, sue for custody of Peter...

  And win.

  The summer days drifted past, one merging, unnoticed, into the next. And as they slipped by, Faith lost hope that Cole might remove himself from her life.

  Didn't he have things to do? she finally said, when she came down the stairs one morning and found him waiting for her in the dining room. Someone else to torture? Ultimatums to issue? An empire to run?

  That made him laugh. "An empire, huh?" He pushed back his chair, enjoying the sound of the legs scraping against the wooden floor. His old man would have cuffed him a good one had he done such a thing when he was a kid. "I can handle things from here. For a while, anyway."

  For how long a while? Faith wanted to ask, but she could see the answer for herself. He'd had two more telephone lines brought in; a fax machine, a computer and a couple of printers had been installed in the library. Cole was settling in for the duration and Peter was enthralled. Her son had become Cole's shadow.

  At first, she'd tried to keep him from barging into the li­brary. She didn't much care about Cole's privacy. Her concern was for Peter. He'd done that to Ted, who'd used the library as a home office, too. Ted never turned him away; he just ignored the intrusion. Faith would go searching for her son and find him sitting quietly on the leather sofa, or playing on the floor with a toy.

  "Sorry," she'd say, and Ted would look up and smile as if he hadn't noticed ... which was fine. It was just that there'd been times she'd seen the lonely look on Peter's face and it made her heart ache, knowing that her little boy was trying for a relationship Ted just couldn't provide.

  Cole was different. "Hey, champ," he'd say, when Peter scooted through the door. "How're things going?"

  He'd take a few minutes to talk with him. Sometimes, he'd put aside what he'd been doing altogether. Faith was startled the first time she found the two of them on the floor, laughing as they zoomed toy cars over the Italian tile.

  "Peter," she'd said gently, "don't bother Cole. He's busy."

  "Actually," Cole replied, "Pete's doing me a favor. I was looking for way to get off the phone with Paris, and he gave it to me." He grinned at the child. "Right, Pete?"

  "Right," Peter said, grinning back.

  Faith started to protest but what was the point? She was Cole's wife. She'd agreed to abide by his rules and anyway, she'd never seen her little boy happier. Denying him these moments would be selfish. As the days slid by, she found herself wondering what would happen if her son found out that the man he was starting to love was really his father.

  When she caught herself, she was horrified. It was a terri­fyingly dangerous way to think. She could not permit such thoughts ... but then she'd hear the two of them engrossed in an earnest discussion of the latest Braves game, or what was going to happen to the Falcons when football season started. She'd find them laughing over a Monopoly board on a rainy afternoon. She'd watch as two hands, one small, one large, dipped simultaneously into a bowl of salted popcorn with what Peter called just a wisp of sugar added because, it turned out, both of them preferred it that way.

  Her heart, her pathetic, sad heart, filled with happiness. Faith told herself it had nothing to do with the fact that Cole was her son's father. She'd have been happy if any other man-a Scout leader, a teacher, a baseball coach-put a smile on her boy's face, but she knew it wasn't true. And then she'd do her best not to think at all, because she knew that neither Cole or Peter could ever know the truth.

  Gradually, she found herself drawn into the things they did together. She tried not to get involved. The less time she spent with Cole, the better. But it was hard to say "no" to Peter when he begged her to go fishing with them so she could see that he'd learned to bait his own hook; it was selfish to say she'd rather read than go outside and laugh her way through a game of ball that had rules the two of them obviously made up on the spot.

  What woman would want to sit alone with a book when the boy you loved and the man you'd once adored were having fun together?

  Nights were more difficult. Faith knew they looked like an average family. They had dinner. They watched TV. They read, they listened to music. They did all the things other peo­ple did. She and Cole even managed polite conversation, for Peter's sake. But then Peter would go to bed-they took him up together and tucked him in-and when they returned to the living room, the silence of the night would settle between them.

  She began going to her room early. "Good night," she'd say politely.

  Cole would look up, his eyes dark and unfathomable. "'There's no need to leave on my account," he'd say, his voice cool now that there was no need for pretense.

  "Oh," she'd say, "I'm not. I'm just..." Tired. Sleepy.

  Headachy. She had lots of excuses. Then she'd climb the stairs, conscious every step of Cole's eyes on her, just as she'd be conscious later of his footsteps outside her door, of the sound of the shower running in the bathroom ... of the beat of her heart as she imagined herself rising from her bed, stripping off her nightgown, opening the door and going into the shower with him, imagined putting her arms around him and lifting her face to his while her breasts pressed against his water­ slicked skin and his mouth claimed hers.

  He thought about it, too. She was sure of it. She caught him watching her one evening, his look hot and hungry. She felt her entire body flush with heat and when she stumbled through another pathetic excuse and went to her room, she fell back against the closed door, breathless.

  Would this be the night? Would he open the connecting doors and come to her bed?

  She sank down in a chair. If it happened, she'd turn him away. She'd married him and yes, she was his wife and yes, she'd only fault herself if she gave in to desire and made love with him ...but it wouldn't be love, it would be sex, and she'd never have sex with him. Hadn't she told him that? Hadn't he agreed to it? He'd even signed that prenup.

  Except-except they both knew the document was mean­ingless, that he'd only signed it to humor her or maybe to humor himself, because he was positive he'd be able to change her mind. He hadn't tried, and she hoped he wouldn't. Because if he came to her in the night, if he woke her by kissing her, if she felt his hands moving on her body, she would stop him. She would stop him...

  Wouldn't she?

  When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of Cole, of lying in his arms, of laughing with him, walking with him, doing all the things they'd never been able to do when they were young. She awoke, exhausted, a little after eight. She show­ered, dressed, went downstairs and found Cole and Peter wait­ing for her. The man and the boy exchanged a private smile.

  "Hi, MOM."

  "Good morning, Faith."

  She looked from one face to the other. God, she thought, oh, God, this was so hard. They had the same eyes. The same smiles. The same noses, except for that little bump in Cole's...

  "How'd that happen?" she said, without thinking.

  -

  What?-"That bump in your nose. It wasn't there when..." She flushed. "when you were younger."

  "Oh." He grinned and rubbed a finger over the spot. "Let's just say I had an argument with a piece of heavy equipment and the equipment won."

  "Like Billy Cullen," Peter blurted. "He had an argument with a roller coaster. I mean, about a roller coaster. I mean, with his sister about a roller coaster. And he banged up his knee."

  Faith looked at her son. "What on earth does Billy Cullen's sister have to do with a roller coaster?"

  Peter shot a sheepish look at Cole who sighed dramatically and reached for the boy's hand. "It seems the Cullen kid went to Six Flags, argued with his sister about whether or not she was brave enough to ride the Mind Bender..."r />
  "The what?" Faith said, and laughed.

  "It's a roller coaster," Peter said excitedly. "Billy says it's huge. Billy says we should ride it unless we're chicken. Billy says-"

  "Cole says it's time to stow it, champ," Cole said, and grinned. He looked at Faith. "We thought we'd go to the amusement park today." He cleared his throat. "And we hoped you'd come with us."

  No, she thought. Thank you for asking but don't be silly. Go by yourselves. I'm not big on amusement parks or roller coaster rides or-or on spending the day with you, Cole, pre­tending we're a family when we're not.,.

  "Faith?" Cole said, and she looked into his eyes, saw that he wanted her with them, that he really wanted her with them, and the floor seemed to tilt under her feet as she said yes.

  They shrieked with terror on the Mind Bender and the Ninja, and laughed when they got soaked riding the Log Flume. Faith said she'd rather walk on hot coals than ride the Georgia Scorcher and after watching that coaster for a while, Peter said well, he'd ride it for sure, except he didn't want to leave his mom standing around while he did and Cole said, solemnly, that sounded exactly like what he'd been thinking.

  They ate hot dogs and drank soda, and when the long, won­derful day ended, they drove home through the soft, warm night, Peter sound asleep in the back seat, Cole and Faith saying little but, perhaps for the first time, not needing to find ways to fill the silence.

  "I'll carry him up," Cole said softly, when they reached the house.

  Faith nodded. "I'll get the door."

  Peter awoke just long enough to mumble a protest when she undressed him and got him into his pajamas. He needed to wash his hands and his face, still sticky from cotton candy, and she knew he ought to brush his teeth, but she looked at her sleeping child, smiled and decided that one night of bad habits wouldn't end the world.

  "Good night, sweetheart," she whispered, and kissed his forehead.

  "Good night, son," Cole said softly, and Faith's throat closed up.

  They tiptoed from the room, shut the door carefully behind them. Faith looked at Cole. The day was over. It was time to go to her bedroom and leave him behind but she didn't-she didn't... Her heart skipped a beat. Oh, she didn't want to...

  "Did you have a good time?" he said quietly.

  She smiled. "Wonderful."

  He reached out a hand, gently touched it to her nose. "You got sunburned."

  "So did you."

  Cole cleared his throat. "Faith. I want to discuss something with you."

  "Yes?"

  "Let's go downstairs."

  What could he want to tell her that would make him sound so serious? The warm joy of the day faded. She knew what it was. This-this sojourn was coming to an end. Of course. He'd been here, what, almost three weeks? He'd been sweet to Peter and polite to her and now he was returning to the real world. His world. Peter would miss him. Just Peter. Only­-

  She blinked as Cole switched on a living room lamp. "I didn't think I'd enjoy being back here," he said. "In Liberty, I mean."

  Faith turned and looked at him. She smiled politely. "I un­derstand."

  "But these weeks have been..." He hesitated. "They've been great."

  "Yes. Yes, they've been-pleasant."

  His eyes darkened. "Pleasant? Is that the best you can do?"

  "I don't know what you expect me to say, Cole. I mean-"

  "Never mind." He ran his hands through his hair, paced away from her, then paced back. "Peter's been happy."

  "Very. And-and I want to thank you for that. He's really-really connected with you, Cole, and-­

  "He's had a tough time, Faith. You told me but I didn't realize..." Cole took a breath. What the hell was the matter with him? He had something to tell her and she'd be happy about part of it. As for the rest-as for the rest, what did it matter if it pleased her or not? She was his wife. She had certain obligations. "I've managed to change things a little."

  "I know. And-and I want to thank you for that, too. Tak­ing him fishing, bike riding, going to those ball games with him-',

  "Dammit, Faith!" Cole glowered at her. "What are you thanking me for?" His voice roughened. "I love the kid. I couldn't love him more if he were my own."

  She nodded, afraid to speak, afraid words that might betray her would come tumbling from her mouth.

  "What I meant, about changing things... Pete says the other kids are treating him better. Maybe that's the wrong way to put it. I get the feeling he's been accepted."

  Faith nodded again. He had been, and it was all Cole's doing. He'd dealt with the town as he'd dealt with Alice that very first morning, making it clear that he wasn't going to tolerate any disrespect. Ted had never done that-but it wasn't fair, comparing Ted and Cole. Ted had been a good, decent man. Cole was-he was good, too. And decent. Yes, he'd used her years ago but that was then and this was now. And now, Cole was-he was­

  He was the man she'd always wanted him to be, the man she could love...

  She swung away, afraid he'd read the painful truth in her face, but he clasped her shoulders and turned her toward him.

  "Faith? What's the matter?"

  "Nothing," she said brightly. She looked up and smiled. "You've been wonderful for Peter."

  He nodded. How about for you? he wanted to say. Have I been anything at all for you? But he knew the answer. She'd made it clear. She'd gone from despising him to tolerating him to being grateful to him for the kindness he'd shown the boy and suddenly, with gut-wrenching swiftness, he knew that wouldn't be enough. He didn't want her to be tolerant of him, dammit, or grateful. He wanted-he wanted...

  "You said you had something to tell me," Faith said.

  "Yeah." Cole took his hands from her shoulders. "Pete wants to join the Cub Scouts."

  Faith blinked. "Really?"

  "Turns out Billy Cullen-"

  "The roller coaster expert," she said, and they both smiled.

  "That's the kid. Turns out his old man is the scoutmaster and he's organized some kind of camping trip for the kids. Pete would like to go."

  Her face fell. "He never said a word to me."

  "Yeah." Cole smiled again. "Well, it's man stuff. You know. Anyway, I spoke with Billy's father-"

  "Without discussing it with me first?"

  "Don't get your back up, baby. Phil Cullen phoned a couple of days ago and I figured I'd check things out before I said anything to you."

  Baby, he'd called her. She told herself she hated it when he did that…but she didn't. This time, the nickname hadn't sounded like a slur, it had sounded softly protective. Please, Faith thought, oh, please, don't let this be happening to me all over again.

  "The camp's in the mountains. It has a good reputation. So does Phil Cullen. Seems he takes the kids out every year."

  She nodded. "I know. Peter mentioned it before. I asked him if he wanted to join the Pack but he said-­

  "He said he didn't. Yeah, he told me. Well, I guess things have changed."

  What he meant was, Peter wasn't an outcast anymore. Cole had done that for him.

  "It looks like something he'd really enjoy, Faith. Cullen's a good guy, experienced with kids and with camping. They'll be gone for two weeks-"

  "Two weeks!"

  Cole smiled. "A lifetime, I know. But it'll be good for him. There'll be overnight hikes and cookouts. There are lots of activities at the camp and a doctor on the premises, and from what Cullen said, the food isn't half bad."

  "Okay." She took a breath. "Peter can go." Cole smiled. "Great. And the timing's perfect." "What do you mean?"

  He hesitated. She saw his eyes darken and instinctively, she knew that what was coming was going to change everything.

  "You're-you're leaving," she said quietly.

  He nodded. "I have to go to New York. There's no way out of it. There are some things on my calendar and..."

  He went on talking. Faith nodded in what she thought might be the right places, she smiled politely, but she'd stopped lis­tening. He was leaving,
just as she'd hoped he would. He'd bent her to his will, given Peter some of the stability he'd promised, and now he was returning to his own world.

  "...in a few months. I'll try, anyway, assuming nothing comes up..."

  He'd try. In a few months, he'd try to fly down to see them. Not them. Peter. That was the only reason he'd forced her into this marriage. For Peter's sake. And thank goodness for that. She surely didn't want it any other way.

  "Faith? You understand, don't you?"

  "Of course." Somehow, she forced her lips to curve in a

  smile. "And don't worry about Peter."

  Cole blinked. "Why would I? Pete'll do just fine." "You're right. He'll miss you-" "Miss me?"

  "When you leave. But I'll explain that you couldn't pos­sibly go on living here, with us. With him. And I'm sure he'll look forward to an occasional visit, whenever you can man­age-"

  She gasped as Cole clasped her shoulders. "You didn't hear a word I said."

  "I did. You said you have to leave, that you'll try and visit us-visit Peter-in a few months-"

  "No wonder you've been so obliging for the past half hour." Cole's mouth thinned. "`He's going,' you figured. You could afford to play the gracious lady and be pleasant."

  Faith stared at him. "Aren't you? Going, I mean?"

  "Oh, yeah, baby. I'm going." His eyes narrowed. "And so are you. That's what I meant about the timing being right. This way, Peter won't miss us while we're gone."

  Was he speaking in English? Nothing he said made sense. "Gone where? Cole, I don't understand a word you're say­ing .

  "That's because you were so busy trying not to jump up and down at the prospect of me being out of your life that you didn't listen." His hands tightened and he lifted her to her toes. "I'm going to New York. And you're going with me."

  "Me? Going...? No! Our agreement never said-­

  "You're my wife. You go where I go. I have a commitment in New York Friday night. Besides, it's time you got a look at your new home."

  "My-my new home?" She knew she was parroting his words but she couldn't help it. What was he talking about?

  "That's right, Faith. My home's in New York. That means our home will be there, too."