Temptation (13 page)

“I guess you like her a lot,” Roberta ventured as she saw Chase's gaze wander toward Eden yet again.

“What?” Distracted, Chase looked back at his dance partner.

“Miss Carlbough. You're soft on her. She's so pretty,” Roberta added with only the slightest touch of envy. “We voted her the prettiest counselor, even though Miss Allison has more—” She caught herself, realizing suddenly that you didn't discuss certain parts of a woman's anatomy with a man, even with Mr. Elliot. “More, ah . . .”

“I get the picture.” Charmed, as always, Chase swung her in a quick circle.

“Some of the other girls think Mr. Keeton's a honey.”

“Oh?” Chase's smile turned into a sneer as he glanced at the man in question.

“I think his nose is skinny.”

“It was almost broken,” Chase muttered.

“And his eyes are too close together,” Roberta added for good measure. “I like you a lot better.”

Touched, and remembering his first crush, Chase tugged on her ponytail to tilt her face to his. “I'm pretty soft on you, too.”

From her corner, Eden watched the exchange. She saw Chase bend down and saw Roberta's face explode into smiles. A sigh nearly escaped her before she realized she was allowing herself to be envious of a twelve-year-old. With a shake of her head, she told herself that it was the strain of keeping herself unavailable that was beginning to wear on her. The music never played below loud. Uncountable trips to the kitchen kept the refreshment table full. Boys and girls shouted over the music to make themselves heard.

Five minutes, she told herself. She would steal just five quiet, wonderful minutes by herself.

This time, when she slipped back into the kitchen, she kept going. The moist summer air soothed her the moment she stepped outside. It smelled of grass and honeysuckle. Grateful for the fresh air after the cloying scent of fruit punch, Eden breathed deeply.

Tonight, the moon was only a sliver in the sky. She realized she had seen it change, had watched its waning and waxing more in the past three months than she had in all of her life. This was true of more than the moon. She would never look at anything else exactly the same way again.

She stood for a moment, finding the pictures in the sky that Chase had shown her. With the air warm on her face, she wondered if there would ever be a time when he would show her more.

As she crossed the grass, the light was silvery. From behind her came the steady murmur of music and voices. She found an old hickory tree and leaned against it, enjoying the solitude and the distance.

This was what warm summer nights were for, she thought. For dreams and wishes. No matter how cold it got during the winter, no matter how far away summer seemed, she would be able to take this night out of her memory and live it again.

The creak and swish of the back door cut through her concentration.

“Eric.” She straightened, not bothering to disguise the irritation in her voice.

He came to her until he, too, stood under the hickory. Starlight filtered through the leaves to mix with the shadows. “I've never known you to leave a party.”

“I've changed.”

“Yes.” Her eyes were calm and direct. He shifted uncomfortably. “I've noticed.” When he reached out to touch her, she didn't step back. She didn't even feel his touch. “We never finished talking.”

“Yes, we did. A long time ago.”

“Eden.” Moving cautiously, he lifted a finger to trace her jawline. “I've come a long way to see you, to make things right between us.”

Eden merely tilted her head to the side. “I'm sorry you were inconvenienced, but there's nothing to make right.” Oddly, the anger, even the bitterness, had become diluted. It had started weakening, she knew, when he had kissed her that afternoon. Looking at him now, she felt detached, as if he were someone she'd known only vaguely. “Eric, it's foolish for either of us to drag this out. Let's just leave things alone.”

“I admit I was a fool.” He blocked her exit, as if by simply continuing in the same vein he could put things back in the order he wanted. “Eden, I hurt you, and I'm sorry, but I was thinking of you as well as myself.”

She wanted to laugh, but found she didn't even have the energy to give him that much. “Of me, Eric? All right, have it your way. Thank you and goodbye.”

“Don't be difficult,” he said, displaying a first trace of impatience. “You know how difficult it would have been for you to go through with the wedding while the scandal was still fresh in everyone's mind.”

That stopped her, more than his hand had. She leaned back against the tree and waited. Yes, there was still a trace of anger, she discovered. It was mild, and buried quite deep, but it was still there. Perhaps it would be best to purge everything from her system. “Scandal. By that I assume you mean my father's poor investments.”

“Eden.” He moved closer again to put a comforting hand on her arm. “Your position changed so dramatically, so abruptly, when your father died and left you . . .”

“To earn my own way,” she finished for him. “Yes, we can agree on that. My position changed. Over the past few months I've become grateful for that.” There was annoyance now, but only as if he were a pesky fly she had to swat away. “I've learned to expect things from myself and to realize money had very little to do with the way I was living.”

She saw by his frown that he didn't understand, would never understand the person who had grown up from the ashes of that old life. “You might find this amazing, Eric, but I don't care what anyone thinks about my altered circumstances. For the first time in my life, I have what I want, and I earned it myself.”

“You can't expect me to believe that this little camp is what you want. I know you, Eden.” He twined a lock of hair around his finger. “The woman I know would never choose something like this over the life we could have together in Philadelphia.”

“You might be right again.” Slowly, she reached up to untangle his hand from her hair. “But I'm no longer the woman you knew.”

“Don't be ridiculous.” For the first time he felt a twinge of panic. The one thing he had never considered was driving hundreds of miles to be humiliated. “Come back to the hotel with me tonight. Tomorrow we can go back to Philadelphia and be married, just as we always planned.”

She studied him for a moment, trying to see if there was some lingering affection for her there, some true emotion. No, she decided almost at once. She wished it had been true, for then she could have had some kind of respect for him.

“Why are you doing this? You don't love me. You never did, or you couldn't have turned your back on me when I needed you.”

“Eden—”

“No, let me finish. Let's finish this once and for all.” She pushed him back a foot with an impatient movement of her hands. “I'm not interested in your apologies or your excuses, Eric. The simple truth is you don't matter to me.”

It was said so calmly, so bluntly, that he very nearly believed it. “You know you don't mean that, Eden. We were going to be married.”

“Because it was convenient for both of us. For that much, Eric, I'll share the blame with you.”

“Let's forget blame, Eden. Let me show you what we can have.”

She held him off with a look. “I'm not angry anymore, and I'm not hurt. The simple fact is, Eric, I don't love you, and I don't want you.”

For a moment, he was completely silent. When he did speak, Eden was surprised to hear genuine emotion in his voice. “Find someone to replace me so soon, Eden?”

She could almost laugh. He had jilted her almost two steps from the altar, but now he could act out the role of betrayed lover. “This grows more and more absurd, but no, Eric, it wasn't a matter of replacing you, it was a matter of seeing you for what you are. Don't make me explain to you what that is.”

“Just how much does Chase Elliot have to do with all of this?”

“How dare you question me?” She started past him, but this time he grabbed her arm, and his grip wasn't gentle. Surprised by his refusal to release her, she stepped back and looked at him again. He was a child, she thought, who had thrown away a toy and was ready to stamp his feet now that he wanted it back and couldn't have it. Because her temper was rising, she fell back on her attitude of icy detachment. “Whatever is or isn't between Chase and me is none of your concern.”

This cool, haughty woman was one he recognized. His tone softened. “Everything about you concerns me.”

Weary, she could only sigh. “Eric, you're embarrassing yourself.”

Before she could rid herself of him again, the screen door opened for a second time.

“Apparently I'm interrupting again.” Hands in pockets, Chase stepped down from the porch.

“You seem to be making a habit of it.” Eric released Eden, only to step between her and Chase. “You should be able to see that Eden and I are having a private conversation. They do teach manners, even here in the hills, don't they?”

Chase wondered if Eric would appreciate his style of manners. No, he doubted the tidy Philadelphian would appreciate a bloody nose. But then, he didn't give a damn what Eric appreciated. He'd taken two steps forward before Eden realized his intent.

“The conversation's over,” she said quickly, stepping between them. She might as well have been invisible. As she had felt herself being shifted to the middle that afternoon, now she felt herself being nudged aside.

“Seems you've had considerable time to say what's on your mind.” Chase rocked back on his heels, keeping his eyes on Eric.

“I don't see what business it is of yours how long I speak with my fiancée.”

“Fiancée!” Eden's outraged exclamation was also ignored.

“You've let some months slip past you, Keeton.” Chase's voice remained mild. His hands remained in his pockets. “Some changes have been made.”

“Changes?” This time Eden turned to Chase, with no better results. “What are you talking about?”

Calmly, without giving her a glance, he took her hand. “You promised me a dance.”

Instantly, Eric had her other arm. “We haven't finished.”

Chase turned back, and for the first time the danger in his eyes was as clear as glass. “Yes, you have. The lady's with me.”

Infuriated, Eden yanked herself free of both of them. “Stop it!” She'd had enough of being pulled in two directions without being asked if she wanted to move in either. For the first time in her life, she forgot manners, courtesy and control and did what Chase had once advised. When you're mad, he'd said, yell.

“You are both so
stupid
!” A toss of her head had the hair flying into her eyes to be dragged back impatiently. “How dare you stand here like two half-witted dogs snarling over the same bone? Don't either of you think I'm capable of speaking my own mind, making my own decisions? Well, I've got news for both of you. I can speak my own mind just fine. You.” She turned to face Eric. “I meant every word I said to you. Understand?
Every single word
. I tried to phrase things as politely as possible, but if you push, let me warn you, you won't receive the same courtesy again.”

“Eden, darling—”

“No, no, no!” She slapped away the hand he held out to her. “You dumped me the moment things got rough. If you think I'll take you back now, after you've shown yourself to be a weak, callous, insensitive”—oh, what was Candy's word?—“weasel,” she remembered with relish, “you're crazy. And if you dare, if you
dare
touch me again, I'll knock your caps loose.”

God, what a woman, Chase thought. He wondered how soon he could take her into his arms and show her how much he loved her. He'd always thought her beautiful, almost ethereal; now she was a Viking, More than he'd wanted anything in his life, he wanted to hold that passion in his arms and devour it. He was smiling at her when she whirled on him.

“And you.” Taking a step closer to Chase, she began to stab him in the chest with her finger. “You go find someone else to start a common brawl over. I'm not flattered by your Neanderthal attempts at playing at the white knight.”

It wasn't quite what he'd had in mind. “For God's sake, Eden, I was—”

“Shut up.” She gave him another quick jab. “I can take care of myself, Mr. Macho. And if you think I appreciate your interference in my affairs, you're mistaken. If I wanted some—some muscle-flexing he-man to clean up after me, I'd rent one.”

Sucking in a deep breath, she turned to face both of them. “The two of you have behaved with less common sense than those children in there. Just for future reference, I don't find it amusing that two grown men should feel it necessary for their egos to use me as a Ping-Pong ball. I make my own choices, and I've got one for you, so listen carefully. I don't want either one of you.”

Turning on her heel, she left them standing under the hickory, staring after her.

Chapter 10

The last day of the session was pandemonium. There was packing and tears and missing shoes. Each cabin gave birth to its own personal crisis. Gear had to be stored until the following summer, and an inventory had to be made of kitchen supplies.

Beds were stripped. Linen was laundered and folded. Eden caught herself sniffling over a pillowcase. Somehow, during the first inventory, they came up short by two blankets and counted five towels more than they'd started with.

Eden decided to leave her personal packing until after the confusion had died down. It even crossed her mind to spend one last night in camp and leave fresh the following morning. She told herself it was more practical, even more responsible, for one of them to stay behind so that a last check could be made of the empty cabins. In truth, she just couldn't let go.

She wasn't ready to admit that. Leaving the laundry area for the stables, she began counting bridles. The only reason she was considering staying behind, she lectured herself, was to make certain all the loose ends were tied up. As she marked numbers on her clipboard, she struggled to block out thoughts of Chase. He certainly had nothing to do with her decision to remain behind. She counted snaffle bits twice, got two different totals, then counted again.

Impossible man. She slashed the pencil over the paper, marking and totaling until she was satisfied. Without pausing, she started a critical study of reins, checking for wear. A good rubbing with saddle soap was in order, she decided. That was one more reason to stay over one more night. But, as it often had during the past week, her confrontation with Chase and Eric ran through her mind.

She had meant everything she'd said. Just reaffirming that satisfied her. Every single word, even though she had shouted it, had come straight from the heart. Even after seven days her indignation, and her resolve, were as fresh as ever.

She had simply been a prize to be fought over, she remembered, as indignation began to simmer toward rage. Is that all a woman was to a man, something to yank against his side and stretch his ego on? Well, that wasn't something she would accept. She had only truly forged her own identity in recent months. That wasn't something she was going to give up, or even dilute, for anyone, for any man.

Fury bubbling, Eden crossed over to inspect the saddles. Eric had never loved her. Now, more than ever, that was crystal clear. Even without love, without caring, he'd wanted to lay some sort of claim. My woman. My property. My
fiancée
! She made a sound, somewhere between disgust and derision, that had one of the horses blowing in response.

If her aunt hadn't taken him away, Eden wasn't sure what she might have done. And, at this point, she was equally unsure she wouldn't have enjoyed it immensely.

But worse, a hundred times worse, was Chase. As she stared into space, her pencil drummed a rapid
rat-a-tat-tat
on the clipboard. He'd never once spoken of love or affection. There had been no promises asked or given, and yet he'd behaved just as abominably as Eric.

That was where the comparison ended, she admitted, as she pressed the heel of her hand to her brows. She was in love with Chase. Desperately in love. If he'd said a word, if he'd given her a chance to speak, how different things might have been. But now she was discovering that leaving him was infinitely more difficult than it had been to leave Philadelphia.

He hadn't spoken; he hadn't asked. The compromises she might have made for him, and only him, would never be needed now. Whatever might have been was over, she told herself, straightening her shoulders. It was time for new adjustments, new plans and, again, a new life. She had done it once, and she could do it again.

“Plans,” she muttered to herself as she studied the clipboard again. There were so many plans to make for the following season. It would be summer again before she knew it.

Her fingers clutched the pencil convulsively. Was that how she would live her life, from summer to summer? Would there only be emptiness in between, emptiness and waiting? How many times would she come back and walk along the lake hoping to see him?

No. This was the mourning period. Eden closed her eyes for a moment and waited for the strength to return. You couldn't adjust and go on unless you'd grieved first. That was something else she had learned. So she would grieve for Chase. Then she would build her life.

“Eden. Eden, are you in there?”

“Right here.” Eden turned as Candy rushed into the tack room.

“Oh, thank God.”

“What now?”

Candy pressed a hand to her heart as if to push her breath back. “Roberta.”

“Roberta?” Her stomach muscles balled like a fist. “Is she hurt?”

“She's gone.”

“What do you mean, gone? Did her parents come early?”

“I mean gone.” Pacing, Candy began to tug on her hair. “Her bags are all packed and stacked in her cabin. She's nowhere in camp.”

“Not again.” More annoyed than worried now, Eden tossed the clipboard aside. “Hasn't that child learned anything this summer? Every time I turn around she's off on a little field trip of her own.”

“Marcie and Linda claim that she said she had something important to take care of before she left.” Candy lifted her hands, then let them fall. “She didn't tell them what she was up to, that I'm sure of. You and I both know that she might only have gone to pick some flowers for her mother, but—”

“We can't take any chances,” Eden finished.

“I've got three of the counselors out looking, but I thought you might have some idea where she could have gone before we call out the marines.” She paused to catch her breath. “What a way to round out the summer.”

Eden closed her eyes a minute to concentrate. Conversations with Roberta scattered through her memory until she focused on one in particular. “Oh, no.” Her eyes shot open. “I think I know where she's gone.” She was already rushing out of the tack room as Candy loped to keep up.

“Where?”

“I'll need to take the car. It'll be quicker.” Thinking fast, Eden dashed to the rear of their cabin, where the secondhand compact was parked under a gnarled pear tree. “I'd swear she's gone to say goodbye to Chase, but make sure the orchard gets checked.”

“Already done, but—”

“I'll be back in twenty minutes.”

“Eden—”

The gunning of the motor drowned out Candy's words. “Don't worry, I'll bring the little darling back.” She set her teeth. “If I have to drag her by her hair.”

“Okay, but—” Candy stepped back as the compact shot forward. “Gas,” she said with a sigh as Eden drove away. “I don't think there's much gas in the tank.”

Eden noticed that the sky was darkening and decided to blame Roberta for that as well. She would have sworn an oath that Roberta had gone to see Chase one last time. A three-mile hike would never have deterred a girl of Roberta's determination.

Eden drove under the arching sign, thinking grimly of what she would say to Roberta once she had her. The pleasure she got from that slid away as the car bucked and sputtered. Eden looked down helplessly as it jolted again, then stopped dead. The needle of the gas gauge registered a flat
E
.

“Damn!” She slapped a hand on the steering wheel, then let out a yelp. Padded steering wheels weren't part of the amenities on cars as old as this one. Nursing her aching wrist, she stepped out of the car just as the first blast of thunder shook the air. As if on cue, a torrent of rain poured down.

For a moment, Eden merely stood beside the stalled car, her throbbing hand at her mouth, while water streamed over her. Her clothes were soaked through in seconds. “Perfect,” she mumbled; then, on the heels of that: “Roberta.” Casting one furious look skyward, she set off at a jogging run.

Lightning cracked across the sky like a whip. Thunder bellowed in response. Each time, Eden's heart leaped toward her throat. As each step brought her closer to Chase's home, her fear mounted.

What if she'd been wrong? What if Roberta wasn't there, but was caught somewhere in the storm, wet and frightened? What if she was lost or hurt? Her breath began to hitch as anxiety ballooned inside her.

She reached Chase's door, soaked to the skin and terrified.

Her pounding at the door sounded weak against the cannoning thunder. Looking back over her shoulder, Eden could see nothing but a solid wall of rain. If Roberta was out there, somewhere . . . Whirling back, she pounded with both fists, shouting for good measure.

When Chase opened the door, she nearly tumbled over his feet. He took one look at her soaked, bedraggled figure and knew he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life. “Well, this is a surprise. Get you a towel?”

Eden grabbed his shirt with both hands. “Roberta,” she managed, trying to convey everything with one word.

“She's in the front room.” Gently, he pushed the hair out of her eyes. “Relax, Eden, she's fine.”

“Oh, thank God.” Near tears, Eden pressed her fingers to her eyes. But when she lowered them, her eyes were dry and furious. “I'll murder her. Right here, right now. Quickly.”

Before she could carry through with her threat, Chase stepped in front of her. Now that he'd had a good taste of her temper, he no longer underestimated it. “I think I have an idea how you feel, but don't be too rough on her. She came by to propose.”

“Just move aside, or I'll take you down with her.” She shoved him aside and strode past him. The moment she stood in the doorway, Eden drew a breath. “Roberta.” Each syllable was bitten off. The girl on the floor stopped playing with the dog and looked up.

“Oh, hi, Miss Carlbough.” She grinned, apparently pleased with the company. After a moment her teeth dropped down to her lower lip. Though perhaps an optimist, Roberta was no fool. “You're all wet, Miss Carlbough.”

The low sound deep in Eden's throat had Squat's ears pricking. “Roberta,” she said again as she started forward. Squat moved simultaneously. Drawing up short, Eden gave the dog a wary glance. He sat now, his tail thumping, directly between Eden and Roberta. “Call off your dog,” she ordered without bothering to look at Chase.

“Oh, Squat wouldn't hurt you.” Roberta scurried across the floor to leap lovingly on his neck. Squat's tail thumped even harder. Eden thought for a moment that he was smiling. She was certain she'd gotten a good view of his large white teeth. “He's real friendly,” Roberta assured her. “Just hold your hand out and he'll sniff it.”

And take it off at the wrist—which was giving her enough trouble as it was. “Roberta,” Eden began again, staying where she was. “After all these weeks, aren't you aware of the rules about leaving camp?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Roberta hooked an arm around Squat's neck. “But it was important.”

“That isn't the point.” Eden folded her hands. She was aware of how she looked, how she sounded, and she knew that if she turned her head she would see Chase grinning at her. “Rules have a purpose, Roberta. They aren't made up just to spoil your fun, but to see to order and safety. You've broken one of the most important ones today, and not for the first time. Miss Bartholomew and I are responsible for you. Your parents expect, and rightfully so, that we'll . . .”

Eden trailed off as Roberta listened, solemn-eyed. She opened her mouth again, prepared to complete the lecture, but only a shuddering breath came out. “Roberta, you scared me to death.”

“Gee, I'm sorry, Miss Carlbough.” To Eden's surprise, Roberta jumped up and dashed across the room to throw her arms around Eden's waist. “I didn't mean to, really. I guess I didn't think anyone would miss me before I got back.”

“Not miss you?” A laugh, a little shaky, whispered out as Eden pressed a kiss to the top of Roberta's head. “You monster, don't you know I've developed radar where you're concerned?”

“Yeah?” Roberta squeezed hard.

“Yeah.”

“I am sorry, Miss Carlbough, really I am.” She drew back so that her freckled, triangular face was tilted to Eden's. “I just had to see Chase for a minute.” She sent Eden an intimate, feminine glance that had Eden looking quickly over at Chase.

“Chase?” Eden repeated, knowing her emphasis on Roberta's use of the first name would get her nowhere.

“We had a personal matter to discuss.” Chase dropped down onto the arm of a chair. He wondered if Eden had any idea how protectively she was holding Roberta.

Though it was difficult, Eden managed to display some dignity in her dripping clothes. “I realize it's too much to expect a twelve-year-old to show a consistent sense of responsibility, but I would have expected more from you.”

“I called the camp,” he said, taking the wind out of her sails. “Apparently I just missed catching you. They know Roberta's safe.” Rising, he walked over and grabbed the tail of her T-shirt. A flick of the wrist had water dripping out. “Did you walk over?”

“No.” Annoyed that he had done exactly what he should have done, Eden smacked his hand away. “The car . . .” She hesitated, then decided to lie. “Broke down.” She turned to frown at Roberta again. “Right before the storm.”

“I'm sorry you got wet,” Roberta said again.

“And so you should be.”

“Didn't you put gas in the car? It was out, you know.”

Before Eden could decide to murder her after all, they were interrupted by the blast of a horn.

“That'll be Delaney.” Chase walked to the window to confirm it. “He's going to run Roberta back to camp.”

“That's very kind of him.” Eden held her hand out for Roberta's. “I appreciate all the trouble.”

“Just Roberta.” Chase caught Eden's hand before she could get away from him again. Ready and willing, or kicking and screaming, he was holding on to what he needed. “You'd better get out of those wet clothes before you come down with something.”