If Ever I Loved You (10 page)

"I'm sorry if I've caught you at a bad time," he
apologized, "but I've promised my sister Lillian's two kids that I'd
take them to Fort Bragg this weekend to ride the Skunk Train and we'd
like for you to come with us."

"Lilly's children?" Gina was confused. "But they're just
babies!"

Peter chuckled and some of the tension vanished from his
tone. "Not anymore they're not. Sonja's eight and Johnny's ten and
they're a handful. I need help in shepherding the two little brats.
Come on, be a good sport and help me play nursemaid tomorrow."

Gina couldn't believe that the youngsters who had been a
babe in arms and a toddler could have grown so fast. But then, it
hadn't been fast at all. It had been seven long lonely, painful years
since she'd last seen them on her wedding day. It was hard to believe
that time hadn't stopped for everybody the way it had for her.

Fortunately she didn't have to make up an excuse, she had
one that couldn't be disputed. "Peter, I can't go anywhere tomorrow,
Saturday's one of our busiest days at the gallery."

"Surely you have employees," he observed.

"Yes, of course, I have an assistant, but Peg and I are
both kept busy on the weekends."

Peter hesitated. "Sundays too?"

Gina was relieved to be able to tell him yes, Sundays too.

He began to sound annoyed. "You're not going to make me
believe that you spend all your time in that shop. What days do you
have off?"

Now she was caught. Oh darn, she should have known it
wouldn't be easy to sidestep Peter Van Housen when he wanted something
of her. She sighed and answered truthfully, "All day Monday and part of
Tuesday, but I have housecleaning and laundry and—"

"Please, Gina," Peter interrupted, and the alarm was back
in his voice. "Look, I'm sorry about the way our last meeting ended. I
promise to be on my best behavior this time. With two kids as
chaperones I won't be able to make such a jerk of myself as I usually
do."

Gina was too astounded to reply. Was he actually
apologizing to her? Admitting that he might be wrong? No, not Peter.
Everyone else in the world might be wrong but never Peter. So why
didn't she just tell him no and hang up?

His voice dropped to a husky murmur. "Gina, I want to see
you. You know that I'm not so overflowing with paternal instinct that I
routinely borrow my niece and nephew for a weekend of child-oriented
fun and games. I want to spend a day with
you
,
but I was afraid if I showed up alone you'd slam the door in my face."

His seductive tone and the words he was uttering were
rapidly melting her resistance and she had to get control of the
conversation before her overactive glands prodded her into ignoring her
better judgment. "Peter—" she began tentatively.

"I'll bring the kids up Sunday night and we'll take the
train ride Monday," he interrupted. "I swear we won't be alone together
for a minute, we'll be too busy trying to keep track of those little
monsters of Lil's."

In her mind Gina pictured Peter and herself each clutching
the hand of a small child—daddy, mommy and the children. The
family they could so easily have been by now. She shut her eyes trying
to block out the image but it only seemed to bring Peter closer as his
soft words sounded intimately in her ear. "I need to spend some time
with you, darling. It's been so long, so very long."

Gina felt tears rising in her throat and when she spoke
her words came out on a choked sob. "Oh Peter, don't. Please don't. I
won't—I can't—let you hurt me anymore."

There was a catch in Peter's voice too as he said, "I
don't want to hurt you, Gina, I want to make love to you. I won't,
though, not until you want me as much as I want you."

He cleared his throat and his tone became more even.
"We'll pick you up at seven-thirty Monday morning and take you out to
breakfast. Don't keep us waiting because the train leaves from Fort
Bragg at nine-twenty."

Gina hung up the phone without answering and dropped her
head in her hands. Why didn't she tell him no? What was she letting
herself in for?

The alarm went off early on Monday morning and Gina had
just finished dressing in jeans and a blue bandana print sleeveless
blouse when Peter arrived with a towheaded youngster in each hand. He
introduced the taller one on the right as Johnny and the petite one on
the left as Sonja. "This lovely lady's name is Virginia," he said to
the children, "but I'm sure she won't mind if you call her Aunt Gina."

Gina's violet eyes widened, but Peter couldn't have looked
more innocent and besides there wasn't anything else she could do but
agree without being rude. "Yes, please do," she said as she shook hands
with each child in turn.

Eight-year-old Sonja looked at Gina and asked, "Do you
have a last name?"

Peter answered for her. "Indeed she does, it's—"

"Brown," interjected Gina hastily just in case he had
intended to say Van Housen. Gina Van Housen. It sounded strange. She'd
never thought of herself as Gina Van Housen and she wasn't going to
start now.

"My full name is Virginia Lea Brown," she answered the
little girl, "but my friends call me Gina. Now let me see, if I
remember right your last name is Wilcox."

Sonja's freckled face brightened with surprise. "How did
you know?" she squealed.

"I used to know your mother," answered Gina.

"But Mommie never told us about you."

I'll just bet she didn't
, thought
Gina as she picked up the red cardigan she'd laid out to wear. Lilly
Wilcox had been just as opposed to Gina marrying Peter as his parents
had been.

They had breakfast at a restaurant in Fort Bragg that
catered to the tourist trade, fast, clean and edible. The Wilcox
children were bright, lively and well-mannered, and Peter was on his
best behavior. He indulged the youngsters when they insisted on
ordering pancakes with syrup and hot fudge sundaes, and grinned at Gina
when she allowed herself an exaggerated shudder. He kept the
conversation light and strictly impersonal and she began to relax.

At the small railroad depot they picked up the tickets
Peter had reserved by phone and took their place in line with the
three-hundred-plus other passengers waiting to board one of the five
red, gold and black cars with the funny black and white caricature of a
skunk, appropriately wearing a conductor's cap, that was painted on the
sides. Johnny was especially interested in the diesel-powered
locomotive which pulled and pushed the coaches and observation car into
position on the track while the crowd watched. He badgered his uncle
with questions and Peter, reading from a booklet he'd bought, explained
that the engine was built by the Baldwin Locomotive Works at its
Eddystone, Pennsylvania plant in 1924 and weighed 234,600 pounds.

Finally the train was maneuvered into place and the
passengers were allowed to board. Peter let Sonja and Johnny pick the
coach they wanted and they chose the one named
Noyo
.
Peter wanted to turn one of the bench seats so the four of them could
sit facing each other, but both children wanted to sit by the window
and neither of them would agree to sit backwards so Gina sat with Sonja
and Peter and Johnny shared the seat ahead of them.

The conductor shouted a happy "All aboard?" and the train
lurched into motion. They chugged slowly east through Fort Bragg, along
colorful Pudding Creek and into the spectacular mountain country
between Fort Bragg and Willits. Sonja's eyes sparkled with the
excitement of a little girl on her first train ride. She kept up a
constant stream of chatter that Gina quickly realized didn't demand an
answer, so she leaned back in the seat and watched as the forest
deepened.

It was promising to be a beautiful day. Not only the
weather, which grew warmer with each mile they traveled, but the
company. Peter's eyes had roamed over her with undisguised admiration
when she'd opened her door for him that morning, and ever since he'd
been like the Peter she used to know, fun, exciting and charming. He
was at ease with his niece and nephew, neither too strict nor too
lenient—except in the case of the pancakes and ice
cream—and they obviously adored him.

A pretty young tour guide wearing a black jumper decorated
with the black and white skunk logo and a white blouse stood at the
front of the car and with the aid of a public address system welcomed
them to the world-famous California Western Railroad Super Skunk Line.
She explained that it was originated as a logging railroad in 1885 and
was powered by gas engines which prompted folks to say, "You can smell
'em before you can see 'em." Thus the nickname.

Most of the passengers giggled but Sonja and Johnny
thought it was an hilarious joke and screamed with laughter, prompting
Peter and Gina to quiet them so they could hear the guide explain that
steam passenger service was started in 1904 and extended to Willits in
1911, thus connecting by rail the two towns on either side of the
Coastal Mountain Range.

After they had passed through the first of the two tunnels
on the line Sonja and Johnny wanted to join some of the other
passengers on the open observation car, and Gina and Peter accompanied
them. Peter lifted Sonja in his arms so she could view the sleepy Noyo
river for which their car was named. They snaked along the curved track
in the shadows of majestic, towering redwoods and over high
trestles— some wooden, some metal—that spanned the
river and the gulches.

After a while Sonja got restless in Peter's arms and
wanted to get down. The clear fresh mountain breeze ruffled Gina's
pixie haircut as Peter's hand gripped hers where it grasped the
railing. She looked up and he frowned down at her. "Why aren't you
wearing your ring?"

Now was not the time to tell him she'd broken off with
Stewart, she'd need privacy for that. Instead she said, "The diamond
was loose. I'm having it repaired."

Peter's gaze held hers as though he was trying to decide
whether or not she was telling the truth. Finally he looked away and
changed the subject. "Have you taken this trip before?"

She nodded. "Several times. Twyla took me shortly after I
came here, and later I took Dad and Mama."

Peter watched a small deer bound through the trees. "How
are your parents? Is your father still in the service?"

Her gaze followed his until the graceful fawn disappeared.
"Yes, they're stationed in a rather remote part of Germany, have been
for over a year. He hopes to stay there until he retires in three more
years."

"Do you miss them, Gina?" he asked. "I remember that you
and your mother were more like sisters than mother and daughter."

Gina smiled. "Mama was only eighteen when I was born. We
sort of grew up together."

She was silent for a moment. "Yes," she continued, "I miss
them. I'd like to see them more often, but Dad and Mama are still
lovers, they don't need anybody but each other and I am completely
self-sufficient."

Peter drew in his breath as his hand tightened on hers.
"Are you so sure of that? You didn't used to be. As I remember you were
more dependent than most eighteen-year-olds."

Gina winced as she remembered how totally she had centered
her young life on Peter Van Housen. How stupidly she had assumed he'd
take care of her, cherish her forever.

She pulled her hand from under his and turned away. "I
grew up fast after I left San Francisco," she said bitterly. "I never
lived with my parents again. During my college years I roomed in a
dormitory, and after I graduated I came out here. Oh yes, Peter, I can
take care of myself all right."

Thanks to you
, she almost added but
stopped herself in time. She didn't want this conversation to go any
further.

Peter gripped her shoulders and pulled her back against
him. "Did you and Mel Calicutt quarrel?" he asked, his mouth close to
her ear. "Is that the reason you stopped seeing him?"

Gina sighed. She'd never make him understand. He would
never believe that she and Mel hadn't been lovers.

She jerked away from his grasp and turned to face him.
"You'd better believe we quarreled!" she shouted over the noise of the
train and the babble of voices. "After that outrageous lie he told you
I called him every vile name I could think of and walked out. I heard
later that he left town."

She tried to walk away but Peter caught her arm. "Why
would he lie to me, Gina? What reason could he possibly have? He
couldn't stop the wedding, we were already married."

She opened her mouth to say,
because your
precious Veronica paid him to
, but then closed it again and
choked back the words. What good would it do to tell him? He wouldn't
believe her and Veronica was dead. It seemed distasteful to make
accusations against a woman who couldn't fight back, especially when
Gina couldn't produce any evidence of her own to back them up.

Instead she shrugged and muttered, "If I told you you
wouldn't believe me."

Just then the train ground to a noisy halt at Northspur, a
quiet area in a grove of redwoods where light refreshments were
available from several stands and a beer garden. Some of the passengers
were also changing trains here to return to Fort Bragg.

The children headed for the nearest food stand and Peter
and Gina forgot their argument in the rush to keep track of them among
the several hundred disembarking passengers. All four of them ordered
hamburgers and colas and took them to a grassy spot in the shade where
they sat cross-legged on the ground and ate with a relish that
surprised Gina. She hadn't expected to be so hungry after her big
breakfast.
It must be the fresh mountain air
, she
decided.

Sonja and Johnny finished their sandwiches and begged for
ice cream cones. Peter solemnly announced that if they weren't careful
they would turn into a giant glob of ice cream, then gave them each a
dollar and told them to "live it up." The children ran happily toward
the nearest ice cream stand and he lay back on the grass with his hands
under his head. Gina sat with her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped
around her legs.