CHAPTER TEN

“COLE WANTS ME to ask your advice.” Robin continued to look up at the cloudless blue sky. “Oh, Lonny, I honestly don’t know what’s right for Jeff and me anymore. I love Cole. I love you. But at the same time I can’t help wondering about Cole’s motives….”

Robin paused, waiting. Not that she expected an answer. Lonny couldn’t give her one. He never did; he never would. But unlike the other times she’d spoken to him, she needed a response, even though expecting one was totally illogical.

With every breath she drew, Robin knew that, but the futility of it all hit her, anyway. Her frustration came, so hard and unexpectedly powerful that it felt like a body blow. Robin closed her eyes, hoping the warmth of the sun would take away this bitter ache, this dreadful loneliness.

She felt so empty. Hollow all the way through.

Her fists clenched at her sides as tears filled her eyes. Embarrassed, she glanced around, grateful that the film crew had attracted most of the sightseers. No one was around to witness her distress. She brushed the tears from her cheeks.

Anger, which for so many years had lain dormant inside her, gushed forth in an avalanche of grief and pain. The tears spilled down her cheeks. Her lips quivered. Her shoulders shook. Her hands trembled. It was as if the emotion was pounding against her chest and she was powerless to do anything but stand there and bear it.

The anger consumed her now. Consumed her because she hadn’t allowed it to when Lonny was first killed. It had been more important to put on a brave front. More important to hold herself together for Jeff and for Lonny’s parents. More important to deal with the present than confront the past.

Lonny had died and Robin was furious with him for leaving her alone with a child to raise. Leaving her alone to deal with filing taxes and taking out the garbage and repairing leaking pipes. All these years she’d managed on her own. And she’d bottled the anger up inside, afraid of ever letting it go.

“Robin.”

Cole’s voice, soft and urgent, reached out from behind her. At the sound, she turned and walked into his arms, sobbing, needing his comfort and his love in equal measure. Needing him as she’d never needed anyone before.

She didn’t know how long he held her. He was whispering soothing words to her. Gentle words. But she heard none of them over the sound of her own suffering.

Once she started crying, Robin couldn’t seem to stop. It was as if a dam had burst inside her and the anguish, stored for too many years, came pouring out.

Cole’s arms were securely wrapped around her, shielding her. She longed to control this outburst, longed to explain, but every time she tried to speak her sobbing only grew worse.

“Let it out,” he whispered. “You don’t have to say anything. I understand.”

“He doesn’t answer,” she sobbed. “I asked him…Lonny never answers me…because he can’t. He left me…”

“He didn’t want to die,” Cole assured her.

“But he did…he did.”

Cole didn’t argue with her. He simply held her tenderly, stroking the back of her head as though reassuring a small child.

It took several minutes for Robin to compose herself enough to go on. “Part of me realises that Lonny didn’t want to leave me, didn’t want to die. But he did and I’m so angry at him.”

“That anger is what makes us human,” Cole told her. He continued to comfort her and, gradually, bit by bit, Robin felt her composure slip back into place.

She sensed Jeff’s presence even before he spoke.

“What wrong with my mom?” he asked Cole.

“She’s dealing with some emotional pain,” Cole explained, speaking as one adult to another.

“Is she going to be all right?”

Robin hadn’t wanted her son to see her crying and made a concerted effort to break away from Cole, to reassure Jeff herself. Cole loosened his hold, but kept his arm around her shoulders.

“I’m fine, Jeff. Really.”

“She doesn’t look so good.”

Her son had developed the irritating habit of not talking to her when she was upset. Jeff and Cole had done it that day her son had run away to the fort. He and Cole had carried on an entire conversation about her while she was in their midst then, too.

Cole led her to a bench and they all sat down.

Jeff plopped himself next to her and reached for her hand, patting it several times. Leaning toward Cole, he said earnestly, “Chocolate might help. One time Mom told me there wasn’t anything in this world chocolate couldn’t cure.”

She’d actually said that? Robin started to smile. Wrapping her arms around her son, she hugged him close, loving him so much her heart seemed about to burst.

Jeff wasn’t all that keen on being cuddled, especially in public, but although he squirmed he put up with his mother’s sudden need to hold him.

When she’d finished, Jeff rolled his eyes and once more directed his comments to Cole. “She gets weird like this every once in a while. Remember what happened that day I ran away?”

“I remember,” Cole said, and Robin smiled at the trace of amusement she heard in his voice.

“Will you stop excluding me from this conversation? I’m going to be all right. I just had this overpowering need to cry, but don’t worry, it’s passed.”

“See what I mean,” Jeff muttered to Cole.

“But Jeff’s right,” Robin said, ignoring her son’s comment. “Something chocolaty would definitely help.”

“You’ll be OK by yourself for a couple of minutes?” Cole asked.

“I’ll be fine. I…don’t know exactly what came over me, but I’m going to be just fine.”

“I know you are.” He kissed her, his lips gentle against her cheek.

The two of them left and once more Robin was alone. She didn’t really understand why the pain and anger had hit her so hard now, after all this time. Except that it had something to do with Cole. But the last place she would ever have expected to give in to her grief was on Fisherman’s Wharf with half of San Francisco looking on.

Jeff returned less than a minute later, running to her side with a double-decker chocolate ice-cream cone. “Cole’s bringing two more for him and me,” he explained. “I told the guy it was an emergency and he gave me this one right away.”

“That was thoughtful of you,” Robin said, wondering what the vendor must have thought. Smiling, she ran her tongue over the ice cream, savoring the cold chocolate. As profoundly as she’d wept, she felt almost giddy with relief now, repressing the urge to throw back her head and laugh.

Cole arrived, and with Jeff on her left and Cole on her right she sat on the concrete bench and ate her ice-cream cone.

“I told you this would work,” Jeff told Cole smugly.

“And to think I scoffed at your lucky baseball cap,” she teased, feeling much better.

When they finished the cones, Cole gathered up their packages and led them back to where he’d parked his car.

Blackie was there to greet them the instant they returned to Orchard Street. Jeff ran into the backyard to play with the dog, and Cole walked Robin to her door. He accepted her offer of coffee.

“I’m probably going to be leaving soon for my property,” he said, watching her closely. He sat down at the table, his hands cupping the mug as though to warm them. “Will you be all right?”

Robin nodded. She walked over and stood beside him and pressed a hand to his strong jaw. “I realise you delayed going up there today because of Jeff and his baseball game. We’re both grateful.”

Cole placed his hand over hers and harshly expelled his breath. “I feel responsible for what you went through there on the pier. I should never have said what I did. I’m sorry, Robin, it wasn’t any of my business.”

“You only said what I needed to hear.”

He smiled. “If I did, it was because of what happened to me in Seattle. I find it more than a little amazing that the two of us would come to grips with our pain while standing on a pier—me in Seattle, you here in San Francisco. I returned home with this incredible sense of release. For the first time since Bobby and Janice’s deaths, I surrendered my grief. In a way it was as though I reached up and God reached down and together we came to an understanding.”

That so completely described what Robin had been feeling that for a long moment she couldn’t say anything. What Cole had told her earlier about carrying the pain with her, dragging it everywhere she went, was right on the mark, too. He understood; he’d done the same thing himself. A surge of love swelled within her.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” he was saying. “I honestly don’t mean to pressure you. But once I returned from Seattle and realised I was falling in love with you I started thinking about having another baby.” He hesitated and took a gulp of his coffee the way a thirsty man attacks a cold beer. He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair backward. “I better go before I say or do something else I shouldn’t.”

Robin followed him into the entryway, not wanting him to leave, but not quite ready to give him what he needed.

He paused at the screen door and his eyes immediately found hers. He couldn’t seem to keep himself from touching her, brushing an auburn curl from her cheek. His knuckles grazed her skin lightly, and Robin’s eyes closed of their own accord at the sensation that shot through her. Her heart was full, and she seemed to have all the answers now—except to the one question that was the most important in her life. And Jeff’s.

“I’ll see you next week some time,” Cole said roughly, pulling his hand away. Without another word, he walked out the door, pausing at the top of the porch steps.

He called for his dog and in response both Blackie and Jeff came running.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Jeff asked breathlessly.

“I’m taking Blackie for the rest of the weekend. You think you can get along without him till Monday, sport?”

Jeff shrugged and stuck his fingers in the hip pockets of his blue jeans. “I suppose. Where are you taking him?”

“To my property.” Cole didn’t turn towards Robin. It was as if he had to ignore her in order to walk away from her.

“Oh, yeah!” Jeff said enthusiastically. “I remember your saying something about it once. You’re building a house, aren’t you?”

“Remodelling one. My grandfather lived there as a boy and he willed it to me, only it’s been a lot of years since anyone’s properly cared for that old house and there’s plenty of work that needs to be done.”

“I’ll work for you,” Jeff piped in eagerly. He made up a fist and flexed his arm, revealing the meager muscles. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but I’m strong. Just ask anyone.”

Cole tested Jeff’s muscles, pretending to be impressed. “Yes, I can tell you’re strong, and I’m sure I couldn’t ask for a harder worker.” Jeff beamed until Cole added regretfully, “I’ll take you up there another time, sport.”

Jeff’s face fell with disappointment.

Before she even realised what she was doing, Robin moved on to the porch. “Cole.”

He turned to face her, but the movement seemed reluctant.

Perhaps it was because she didn’t want to be separated from him any more than he wanted to be away from her. Perhaps it was the thought of Jeff’s being disappointed when he’d already had so many other disappointments in his young life. Perhaps it was this newborn sense of freedom she was just beginning to experience.

She stepped towards Cole. “Could Jeff and I go up to the property with you?”

Jeff didn’t wait for Cole to answer before leaping excitedly into the air. “Hey, Mom, that’s a great idea! Really great. Can we, Cole? Blackie and I can help you, and Mom can…Well, she can do things like make us some grub and bring us lemonade and other stuff women do when their men are working.”

“I’ll have you both know I pound a mean hammer,” Robin felt obliged to inform them. If she was going to Cole’s farm, she fully intended to do her share.

Cole looked perplexed for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “I’d love to have you come—if you’re sure that’s what you want.”

Robin just nodded. All she knew was that she couldn’t bear to be separated from him any longer.

“Just be warned the house is only half done. The plumbing isn’t in yet.”

“We’ll manage, won’t we, Jeff?”

“Sure,” Jeff said eagerly. “Anyway, boys got it easy.”

Cole laughed. “How long will it take you to pack?”

“We’re ready now, aren’t we, Blackie?” Jeff almost jitterbugged across the front lawn in his enthusiasm.

“Give me a few minutes to throw some things together,” Robin said, grinning. Jeff was smiling, too, ear to ear, as he raced past her into the house and up the stairs.

Cole’s eyes held Robin’s in silent communication—until Jeff came bursting out of the house, dragging his sheets and quilt with him, straight from his bed.

“Jeff,” she cried, aghast, “what are you doing?”

“I took everything off my bed. I’m willing to go without plumbing, but I need certain comforts.” He piled the bedding at their feet. “You two can go back to looking at each other. I’ll get everything else we need.”

“Jeff,” Robin groaned, casting Cole an apologetic glance. “I’ll pack my own things, thank you.”

“You want me to get your sheets, too?” he called from inside the house.

“No.” She scooped up the bedding and dashed into the house, taking the stairs two at a time. She discovered Jeff sitting on the edge of her bed, his expression pensive.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you ever going to marry Cole?” her son asked.

At the unexpectedness of the question, Robin’s heart flew to her throat, then slid back into place. Briefly she wondered if Cole had brought up the subject with her son, but instinctively knew that he hadn’t. “W-what makes you ask that?”

He shrugged. “Lots of things. Every time I turn around you two are gazing into each other’s eyes. Either that, or kissing. I try to pretend I don’t notice, but it’s getting as bad as some of those movies you like to rent. And when you were crying on the pier, I saw something. Cole had his arms around you and he was looking real sad. Like…like he wished he could do the crying for you. It’s the same look Grandpa sometimes gives Grandma when he figures out how she feels about something, and she doesn’t even have to talk. Do you know what I mean?”

“I think so,” Robin said, casually walking over to her dresser drawer and taking out a couple of old sweatshirts. “And what would you think if I said I was considering marrying Cole?”

Robin expected shouts of glee and wild shrieks, but instead, her son crossed his arms over his chest and moved his mouth in odd ways, stretching it sharply to one side and then the other. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She folded and refolded one of the sweatshirts, her heart pounding in anticipation. “It would mean a lot of changes for all of us.”

“How many other people are involved in this?”

Robin hesitated, not understanding Jeff’s concern. “What do you mean?”

“Will I get an extra set of grandparents in this deal?”

“Uh…probably. I haven’t talked to Cole about that yet, but I assume so.”

“That means extra gifts on my birthday and at Christmas. If that’s the case, I say we should go for it.”

“Jeffrey Leonard Masterson, you shock me!”

“A kid thinks that way. It shouldn’t come as any surprise.”

Robin shook her head in dismay at her son’s sudden materialistic attitude towards her possible marriage. She was still frowning as she stepped outside.

Cole was in his garage, loading up the trunk of his four-wheel-drive vehicle when Robin joined him. She handed him one small suitcase and a bag of groceries she’d packed at the last moment.

Cole stowed them away, carefully avoiding her eyes. “I take it you said something to Jeff about us?” She could hear amusement in his voice.

“Yes. How’d you know?”

“He brought down a paper bag full of clothes, and asked what kind of presents he could expect from my parents at Christmas. He also asked if there were any aunts or uncles in the deal.” Robin’s embarrassment must have showed, because Cole started chuckling.

“That boy’s got a mercenary streak in him I knew nothing about,” she muttered.

Cole was still grinning. “You ready?”

She nodded, drawing an unsteady breath, eager for this adventure to begin. Jeff and Blackie were already in the back seat when Robin slipped in the front to wait for Cole.

“Are we going to sing camp songs?” Jeff asked, bracing his elbows on the back of their seats and leaning forward. He didn’t wait for a response, but immediately launched into the timeless ditty about bottles of beer on the wall. He sang ninety-nine verses of that, then performed a series of other songs until they came off the freeway and wound up on a narrow country road with little traffic.

Jeff had tired of singing by then. “Knock knock,” he called out.

“Who’s there?” Robin said, falling in with his game.

“Eisenhower.”

“Eisenhower who?”

Jeff snickered. “Eisenhower late, how about you?” With that, the ten-year-old broke into belly-gripping guffaws, as if he should be receiving awards for his ability to tell jokes.

Cole’s mouth was twitching and Robin had to admit that she was amused, too.

“The turnoff for the ranch is about a mile up the road,” Cole explained. “Now remember, this is going to be a lot like camping. It’s still pretty primitive.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Robin said, smiling at him.

A couple of minutes later, Cole slowed about to turn down the long driveway. It was then that Robin saw the sign. Her heart jumped to her throat and her hands started to shake.

“Stop!” she screamed. “Stop!”

Cole slammed on the brakes, catapulting them forward. “Robin, what is it?”

Robin threw open the front door and leapt out of the car, running to the middle of the road. She stared at the one word on the sign even as the tears filled her eyes.

Cole’s farm was named Paradise.