anywhere.”
In a few minutes they’d reached the house. She hurried inside. Her mom followed with the duffel bag Natalie had forgotten.
The concern in her parent’s eyes had turned them a dark green, providing a contrast with her blond hair that made her more beautiful than any of her friends’ moms.
When Natalie first met Steve, she’d heard him tell her mom how gorgeous she was. Even Kendra’s dad had told Natalie, “Your mother’s a real knockout.”
Tris Monbrisson must have thought so, too. He’d asked her to marry him twelve years ago. But for that accident…
CHAPTER TWO
“WHAT’S wrong, honey?” Rachel Marsden put the bag on the floor.
“I have something to tell you. I think you’d better sit down.”
At her daughter’s tone of voice, a chill invaded Rachel’s body. “Why? Does this have anything to do with your grandmother?”
Rachel’s father had passed away two years ago. Her mother had taken it hard, but Rachel had thought she was doing a lot better these days. It would be unbearable to lose her mother, too. Rachel wanted her around for a long, long time.
“No—this doesn’t have anything to do with Nana.” After a slight hesitation she said, “Mom? While I was over there, someone called trying to find you.”
Her brows knit together. “Who?”
“Alain Monbrisson.”
Alain Monbrisson? Just hearing the name made Rachel feel faint. “That’s what Tris called his baby nephew.” She put a trembling hand to her throat. “I don’t understand.”
“Did you once write my father a letter on the ship’s stationary?”
A moan escaped Rachel’s lips. “Yes.”
“Well, Alain found it in his uncle’s old backpack. He tracked you down through your school in Geneva and then phoned Nana’s house. She was next door, so I answered it.”
“Oh, no—”
“Don’t worry, Mom. Alain doesn’t know his uncle is my father. He thinks you’re married and I’m another man’s daughter.”
“Honey—I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant,” Natalie broke in, sounding older than her eleven years. “The reason Alain was calling was to tell you about the terrible hockey accident that happened while my father was at hockey camp in Interlaken.”
An accident—
“Sit down, Mom—you look like you’re going to be sick.”
Rachel felt sick. She sank down on the end of the couch. “Tell me what he said.”
As she listened to her daughter, she started to tremble and couldn’t stop.
Tris had been in a coma?
“Alain thinks that if you phoned his uncle and filled him in about your time together on the ship, it would ease his mind concerning the period of time he doesn’t remember. Hopefully it will help cut down his headaches.”
Tris could have died and Rachel would never have known. She buried her face in her hands.
“I was afraid to tell you about this because it changes a lot of things, Mom. I always thought my father was a horrible man to have hurt you the way he did. But now I know he didn’t do it on purpose, I want him to know he has a daughter. Maybe he’ll want to meet me. What do you think?”
What do I think?
With one phone call, the world Rachel had built so carefully for her and Natalie had just come crashing down around them.
She could hardly comprehend the fact that a block of amnesia was the reason Tris had vanished from her life.
If his nephew hadn’t found that note, they would all still be in the dark. Unfortunately Natalie had been given enough information that it would take an act of nature to stop the rising tide of hope in her heart.
To be united with her father had always been Natalie’s dream, though she’d never expressed it verbally to Rachel.
Before Rachel did anything about the situation, she needed clarification on one certain point. It required talking to Alain Monbrisson herself.
She raised her head, smoothing the hair from her face. “Natalie, honey? Would you bring me Alain’s phone number please?”
Her face glowed with excitement. “I’ll be right back.”
Rachel reached for her purse and pulled out her cell phone. When Natalie returned with the paper and pointed to the second number, Rachel started punching the digits.
She checked her watch. It was four in the States, making it around ten in Switzerland.
After three rings someone picked up. “Hallo?” said a young male voice.
“Hello. Is this Alain Monbrisson?”
“Yes?”
“My name is Rachel Marsden. I understand you were trying to find me.”
“Hello, Ms. Marsden. Thank you for calling me back.”
She couldn’t fault his manners or his English.
“My daughter just told me of your conversation. I must admit hearing about your uncle’s accident has come as a shock. We can all thank God he survived it.”
“Yes. He could have died.”
Rachel swallowed with difficulty. “Tell me something, Alain. Does he know you found the note I wrote him?”
The words she’d penned had poured straight from her heart.
“Yes. I read it to him while he was packing this morning.”
She clutched the phone tighter. “But it was your idea to phone me, not his?”
“Yes.”
His honesty came as an enormous relief. “Is he aware you phoned my parents’ house in an effort to locate me?”
“No. He’s gone away on a trip.”
“I think you’re a very special person to care about him. But much as I understand why you want to help your uncle, the need to talk to me has to come from him, not you.
“It’s been twelve years. He’s a thirty-one-year-old man now. If he were still that curious about his past, he would have followed up with a phone call to me.
“But he didn’t because he’s been on the road to recovery for a long time and believes it’s better to leave things alone. I tend to agree with him.
“Some things in life are better left alone. So let this phone call between us be the end of it. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“Yes,” came the quiet answer. “I won’t tell him I talked to you or Natalie.”
“Thank you. I’m sure if you think about it, you’ll see it’s the right thing to do. Are you familiar with the American expression, ‘Let sleeping dogs lie’?”
“No.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that he’s alive and well today. I’m very happy for him and your family. Thank you for the call, Alain. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
They both clicked off.
“How could you, Mother?” Natalie cried, white-faced.
Rachel steeled herself to stay in control. “I did what I had to do. Did Alain read you the note I wrote to your father?”
“No,”