Mountain Song (14 page)

“Mmmm?”

“I’ve been in Lake
Tahoe since November. It’s practically the middle of March.”

“The four happiest
months of my life,” Andy said simply. It wasn’t the sort of thing he usually
said, but it was true.

“Me too. What I was
wondering, um, what do you think of us making this, you know, permanent?”

Andy lifted his chin
from her hair, felt a spasm of discomfort along his cramped legs.

“Claudia,” he’d begun
slowly, carefully. “I can’t give you...”


The
rest was a blur, so quickly did the afternoon segue into the worst night of his
life. The words flew; the more he reminded her of all the things he couldn’t
provide, the angrier she became.

And the one thing
neither of them ever mentioned lay between them, the biggest obstacle of all.

Because he’d never
told her he loved her. And he was not at all sure he could give her the thing
she needed most, the love that came so easily to her, the love she professed to
him every day.

And now, five years
later, she was curled up on his couch that cost more money than he’d spent in
an entire year back then, but the pose was the same, her arms wrapped tightly
around her legs, and the question in her eyes went straight through him with
every bit of the force it had carried back then.

Then Claudia proved
again that she had become a woman. Because she asked the question, the
real
question, the one they’d danced
around that other time.

“Andy,” she said
quietly, “I have to know before we go any further. Just how much of yourself
are you able to give me?

CHAPTER SEVEN

As soon as the words
were out of her mouth, Claudia wished she could take them back.

The look on Andy’s
face—the wall that came up in his eyes, the way his jaw set a little
firmer—confirmed her mistake. She knew the answer to her question. Why
put both of them through this all over again?

Andy was a lover of
incredible skill, it was true, but he had one flaw: he couldn’t love. Not
really. Not they way she deserved to be loved, with all his heart, beyond
everything else in his life.

Not the way
Paul
deserved to be loved.

“I shouldn’t have let
this happen,” she said, reaching around and zipping her dress with shaking
fingers. She laughed mirthlessly. “The crazy thing is, I came here to—well,
one thing is sure, I never planned on—on—
touching
you again.”

Andy opened his mouth,
closed it. While she straightened her clothes, smoothed her hair, with quick
gestures, he made no effort at all to mend his disheveled appearance. He looked
defeated, tired.

He made no move to
contradict her. Some part of her must have been hoping that at the last minute
he’d come up with the words she needed to hear, to prove her wrong. All it
would have taken was the smallest gesture on his part. God knew she had been
carried along in the current of their lovemaking. If he hadn’t paused to go
into the other room...

Claudia flushed,
remembering how his hands had felt on her skin as he eased the dress off her
shoulders, the way his lips and tongue melted against her. It would be so easy,
even now, to rush back into his arms, claim the passion she knew lay roiling
below the surface, under that impassive expression.

But she couldn’t. Even
as a girl, a girl who was so ignorant in so many ways, even then she’d had the
wisdom to see that what he offered wasn’t enough. That no matter how much she
loved him, he’d only be able to give part of himself.

And now there were two
lives at stake. Two hearts, one very young and vulnerable, the other older,
perhaps a little wiser.

But at the moment,
every bit as vulnerable.

“I’ll let myself out,”
Claudia said, giving everything she had to keep the tremor out of her voice. “I’ll
call you tomorrow to discuss those...those alternative living situations for
Bea.” And then, she thought, it would be a very good idea indeed to ask her
father to come to Lake Tahoe and take over.

It was high time she
got back to her life. Her
real
life.

“Pull back those
sheers just a little more,” Bea said, pointing at the window with a buttered
roll. Claudia did as she asked, pausing to drink the fresh air into her lungs,
dewy morning air scented with the flowers blooming in the mountains.

Claudia had finally
gotten some rest. To her surprise, sleep had come immediately, deep and
dreamless, once she got back to Bea’s house and dragged herself to bed without
even changing clothes. When she woke hours later, the sun was already cresting
the peak. She’d dressed quickly and come to the hospital, determined to wrap up
her responsibilities, let her father take over for her.

And the thoughts of
Andy that kept impinging on her train of thought? Well, they were most
unwelcome, and Claudia banished them with sheer will, pouring all her energy
into the effort.

“You’ve certainly got
an appetite this morning,” she said as cheerfully as she could.

Bea grimaced. “No food
after midnight tonight,” she said. “In addition to sawing up the bones in my
poor hip, they plan to starve me so I’ll be too weak to protest if anything
goes wrong.”

“Bea, for heaven’s
sake,” Claudia reproached. “Dr. Dupree has done dozens of these procedures. Hundreds,
I bet. Andy—” her voice caught a little, and she hastily coughed to cover
it up. “Andy says she’s the finest.”

“Yes, well, you notice
he can’t be bothered to do the surgery himself.”

“Bea!” Claudia rolled
her eyes in exasperation as Bea tucked into her scrambled eggs and sausage. “It’s
not his area. Dr. Dupree’s a specialist—oh, I don’t know why I even
bother. We’ve been over this a hundred times.”

“Specialist,
schmecialist. For all the time that boy spends reading those ridiculous medical
journals, you’d think there wasn’t a procedure out there he hasn’t got
memorized.”

Claudia sighed and
drained the last of her latte, setting the paper cup carefully beside the pile
of dishes.

“Anyway, I’m pleased that
you’re finally eating.”

“Oh, speaking of Andy,”
Bea said, dabbing daintily at the corners of her mouth with a napkin, “he
brought me some wonderful materials yesterday.”

“Yesterday? When?” Bea’s
curious gaze alerted Claudia that she’d spoken too hastily.

“I don’t know...late
afternoon. He left early yesterday. Said he had some personal business,” she
added, bending one eyebrow into a crafty expression.

Claudia averted her
eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she said casually.

A weighty silence
filled the air for a moment.

“So you haven’t told
him yet.”

“I—there hasn’t
been time.”

“I see.” A long,
careful scrutiny, and then, thankfully, Bea let the subject drop.

“Andy has been telling
me all about this place. Fruitvale Senior Community. It’s over in Pine Crest,
but that’s hardly half an hour from here. And while I’m sure they’re swindling
lots of poor old folks out of their life savings, I have to admit that they do
have some intriguing materials.”

She picked up a packet
of glossy paper, held with a large binder clip, and thrust it at Claudia.

“This is a...a nursing
facility?”

Bea wrinkled her nose
and glowered. “Nursing home? Lands, Claudia, I’m not ready to hang up my hat
quite yet! No, I’d have my own apartment. There—that one. Take a look at
that. And there’s a floor plan...”

As Bea chattered on,
Claudia turned over page after page of the brochure, heart sinking lower and
lower.

“Bea,” she finally
said, “how could you let him do this to you?”

Bea paused, and
regarded her granddaughter down the length of her nose for a moment. Then she
took another bite and chewed, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Do what, exactly, my
dear?”

“Put you in a—in
one of these horrible places.”

“First of all, no one
has ever put me anywhere I didn’t want to go, if memory serves,” she said
sternly. “Secondly, I do believe you are being just bit narrow-minded here,
Buttercup.”

“But Bea—”

“And don’t go saying
that all this meddling in my affairs is for my own good. I get positively
furious when I hear that. I can think for myself, thank you very much, and
while I do appreciate my favorite grandchild traveling all this way to be with
me, and while I love you more than anything in the whole entire world...”

Claudia waited,
wincing at Bea’s strong reprimand, feeling very much like a girl again.

“...I have to tell
you, Claudia Canfield, that I think it’s
you
who is in dire need of learning to let go.”

“Let go? Of what?”

Bea sighed
dramatically and waved her orange juice in a sweeping gesture. “Of the past. Of
thinking everything has to stay the same. People grow. They change. They age. They
lose the ability to do some things, but they learn new things.”

“
Some
people,” Claudia corrected her half-heartedly. “Some people
can change. Others don’t have a prayer. I just wonder if you’ve taken into
account—”

“I’m ready for a whole
new phase in my life,” Bea interrupted. “Don’t you see, Claudia? I might not be
able to tie my shoes when this is all said and done, but maybe I can learn to,
I don’t know, use a computer or invest in the stock market or play bridge!”

“Bridge? Did you say
bridge?”

“Why not?”

Claudia’s heart sank. “Because
all your life you said you’d never be one of those old ladies with the tissue
packs in their purses who sit around and play cards. Because—because you’re
better
than that.”

Bea snorted. “Better,
huh? I hate to say it, Claudia, but I’m disappointed in you. I thought you’d
escaped that dreadful Canfield better-than-thou attitude. And besides, I can’t
imagine what I ever had against bridge. It kind of looks like fun. And hearts—Andy
comes around and plays a few rounds now and then when he’s got time.”

Claudia exhaled
slowly. Him again. “He’s never got time.”

“He
makes
time. For what’s important.” Again
the pause, the sly look.

Claudia brought her
back to the subject. “If you want to play bridge, why can’t you just have some
ladies over to the house?”

Bea sighed. “I don’t
know why you’ve got your heart set on keeping me cooped up in that old barn.”

“But you love your house! You and Grandpa Bud—”

“I was a wonderful
home for me and Bud, that’s true,” Bea said, softening. “There’s a lot of
memories in those walls, in all that ridiculous old furniture. But really,
Claudia, what am I supposed to do with it all? Open a museum?”

“I’m just thinking of
you,” Claudia said, voice wobbly. Despite her best efforts a fat tear spilled
over and plopped on her cheek, followed by another. “I just don’t ever want you
to get
old
.”

“Oh ho,” Bea said
softly. “So there we have it. Come here, dearie.”

Claudia laid her cheek
on the crisp bed linens and allowed herself to be stroked and patted,
sniffling. “This is embarrassing,” she managed to mumble. “You’re treating me
like a little girl.”

“Oh, come now, Sugar,”
Bea crooned. “You’re just in a rough spot. Here I am moving right along with my
life, and you’re stuck in a place you don’t want to be stuck in your life. It’s
no wonder you’re having trouble seeing me change.”

“What do you mean, I’m
stuck?” Claudia bristled a little despite Bea’s wonderfully relaxing touch. “I
like my life just fine.”

“Well, you know. Some
might say you were in a bit of a rut. Don’t get me wrong, but I know you’re
itching to do more than variations on the delivery driver uniform theme.”

Claudia sighed. Bea
had landed squarely on a sore spot. She
did
long to branch out into other work, but working in the family business provided
a feeling of security she wasn’t ready to lose. “When the time is right, I’ll—”

“Then there’s this
uppity hands-off businesswoman persona you’ve gone and taken on.”

“I’m not the least—”

“It’s no wonder Andrew’s
having such a hard time sweeping you off your feet.”

“What’s he got to do
with this?” Claudia swiped angrily at her tears, but more coursed down her
cheek. “Why do you always have to bring him into every discussion we ever have?”

“Why can’t you just
admit that he’s never stopped being a part of your life? I declare, Claudia,
you are doing everything in your power to disrupt a perfectly good happy
ending.”

Claudia snuffled
softly, gratefully accepting the tissue Bea offered. “Just for the sake of argument,”
she finally said. “If I even wanted Andy in my life, which I don’t, I mean it
would be a really,
really
bad idea—”