The Western Dare (Harlequin Heartwarming) (14 page)

Camp tested the spark of annoyance he saw in Emily’s eyes. “Out-of-pocket expenses should all have been listed on the sheet I mailed out. Maizie forgot to include the rodeo and the dance. I didn’t intend there to be hidden costs, Emily.”

“All right...if that’s the only reason.” She accepted the money back, zipped her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “I have to scoot if I’m going to make the one o’clock tour of historic sites. See you later.” She took off like a deer in flight.

Camp scratched the back of his neck, then jogged to catch up. “Do you mind if I tag along? I don’t mean to crowd you, but I planned on going.”

“It’s a free country.” Her steps quickening, she continued toward the old building that housed the visitors’ bureau, where Maizie said the tour started.

Thrown off by her cavalier response, Camp broke stride. Even with his longer legs, he didn’t catch up easily. When he did, she ignored him. He wanted to spend time with her. If he’d upset her over the money, he was genuinely sorry.

“You must be leading the monument tour,” Emily said to a man holding a fistful of maps and brochures. “Am I early?”

He peeled off one of each for her, then did the same for Camp. “This explains the sites. It’s a self-guided tour,” he said, checking his watch. “Guess you’re it for this hour.” Snapping his cuff down again, he went back into the building.

Emily scanned the street in both directions. “Where are Doris and Vi?”

“We can give them a few minutes if you like. But considering the loose way this tour is run, they may have already gone.”

“You’re right.” She took a deep breath. “I’m glad you decided to go, Camp. It’s not as much fun seeing the sights alone.”

“For a minute there, I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I was annoyed about your giving Megan that money. My in-laws throw cash at my kids as a way of making me look bad. It doesn’t help matters that I have to watch every dime. I know you meant well, but...” A sigh shook her frame.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Emily. I should have asked your permission.”

He looked so contrite that Emily felt bad for foisting her troubles on him. She definitely didn’t want him thinking she’d make a habit of it. “Maybe this tour isn’t even worthwhile. If you have things to do, I really can go on my own.”

“I don’t have any plans—other than picking up a coffee grinder. In fact, I was going to suggest we have lunch first. Then we’ll be able to walk off the calories. Across the street is Hays House Restaurant. Maizie told me it was opened in 1847 by Seth Hays, a great-grandson of Daniel Boone. She said it’s the oldest eating establishment west of the Mississippi.”

Emily gazed at the old stone building. “I wonder if it’s expensive?”

Camp opened his mouth to say it’d be his treat, then thought better of it and feigned interest in the brochure. “Might be worth the price to see the antiques. This says the building’s been remodeled, but some original pieces still exist. Oh, maybe you don’t like museums and such....” He remembered Greta’s snide remarks and curbed his own enthusiasm.

“Are you kidding? I love them. And I love historic houses. Look, this says the fireplace has a hand-hewn mantel.” She frowned slightly. “Surely they serve appetizers for people who don’t want a full meal.”

Camp let her work it out in her own mind. Eventually she smiled and stepped off the curb, preparing to cross the street. He took her arm, pleased that she’d decided to join him. But it went against the grain to have a woman he’d invited to lunch pay for her meal. On the other hand, Emily wore her pride very close to the skin and he didn’t want to risk offending her again.

While they waited for seating, they wandered around, checking out the antiques. Even after the hostess showed them to a table, Emily spent more time examining the needlepoint fabric on the chairs than she did looking at the menu.

In Camp’s opinion, the dinner salad she ended up ordering wasn’t enough to keep a bird alive. As it turned out, his meal would feed three people. As they ate, they discussed a range of subjects. Everything from the tintypes on the walls to their job goals and aspirations. A little at a time, Camp cajoled Emily into tasting most of what was on his plate.

“It’s none of my business,” he said as the waiter cleared away the remains of his baked apple dessert, “but why haven’t you moved if your in-laws make life so miserable? With your education and experience, I’d think you could get a job in almost any college or university.”

She rearranged the salt and pepper shakers. “You mean, why don’t I quit whining about Mona and Toby and take the advice I give students?”

“In a word, yes.” Camp stirred a dollop of cream into his coffee.

Emily practically squeezed the life out of her tea bag. She took a sip, wondering how much to say. “To an outsider, I guess it seems an easy decision. I wish it was.”

Camp watched her over the rim of his cup, troubled by her bleak expression. “I’ve gathered from what you and the kids have said that your lifestyle changed, went downhill, after your husband’s death. The more I see of you, Emily, the clearer it is how you feel about their money.”

She set her cup in the saucer, but still held it tight with both hands. “No matter how hard I try, the skeletons in my closet have a way of popping up.”

“We all have them,” he said dryly.

“Compared with you, I have enough to fill several walk-in closets.”

Camp tried to imagine Emily-of-the-sunny-smile with some terrible blight on her record. Nothing came.

Surreptitiously, she studied his blank features. “Ha! I thought as much. Your life has been a bowl of cherries.” Emily grimaced as she polished off her tea. “Don’t ever get married, Campbell. When I took vows for better or worse, my life landed in the pits.”

He signaled for the check. “The marriage wasn’t a total failure. You have Mark and Megan.”

“Which brings us to your original question. Why don’t I take them and relocate?”

Camp slipped money into the folder. Emily passed him her portion. He let it lie there for a time, but in the end heaved a sigh and added it to the tip.

“My in-laws are the biggest wheels where we live,” she said as they rose. “In retrospect it seems foolish, but I never had reason to question where Dave’s money came from. He called himself a developer and boasted about finding backers for casinos and posh resorts. I hadn’t a clue how many times his parents bailed him out of get-rich-quick schemes. Often, it turns out, and after he died they tallied up the bill. The sum is staggering. It’s like a sword hanging over my head. If I moved but missed a payment for any reason, they’d use it to force me back. I’m in a catch-22 situation unless I locate a job with a sizable salary increase.”

“Did you cosign notes any of the times your husband borrowed money from his parents?”

“No. But they showed me a pile of canceled checks. They even paid the mortgage on our house.”

“If you didn’t sign anything, how can they collect from you?”

“I told you the Bentons virtually own the town. They have subsidiaries owning subsidiaries. Three-fourths of the businesses are in debt to them in some way. Believe me,” she said bitterly, “I lie awake nights trying to figure out how to take the kids and disappear. But what lesson is that for the children? Even if I ran, there’s still a matter of references. And I owe the college credit union on my car. There’d be no hiding.”

“What if you consolidated your loans at your new site and paid everyone in your old town off?”

She rose, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “Banks don’t exactly rush to lend money to a single mother, to say nothing of someone new in town. They’re all good ideas, Camp, but I’ve examined this mess from every angle. Frankly, I don’t see any way out.”

He trailed her to the front door, then reached around her to hold it open. “I’d be surprised if Mona and Toby are on the up-and-up. People who’d treat family the way they treat you are bound to be all-round jerks. You want to make them sweat? Sic the IRS on them. Those boys don’t owe allegiance to anyone.”

Emily laughed. “Remind me never to get on your bad side. You play hardball.”

“I really don’t. Their hold over you and the town smells fishy. People with that kind of money and power usually cut corners someplace, or they pull a few shady deals.”

“Toby was an only child of wealthy parents. He inherited big, plus he thought he had a knack for making money. Mona’s major problem is that she spoiled her only son to distraction and refuses to believe he could do anything wrong. Therefore it stands to reason she’d blame me for his excesses.”

“I guess you loved him, huh?”

“Everyone loved Dave. He radiated charm. He could have had any woman he wanted. And did, if even half of what I heard later in our marriage was true. The thing I ask myself regularly is why he chose to marry. And why me? The girl he dated before me is a fashion model, and many of the ones who came after could have stepped off the covers of
Cosmo.
”

“Don’t put yourself down, Emily.” Camp took her hand as they strolled down the street. “I suspect old Dave knew exactly what he had in a wife. Pretty, talented, loyal. A great mother to his kids. From the way you’ve described him, he fits the mold of a man who needed order in his chaotic life. Men like that have to present a picture of normalcy to the world. And they want a son to carry on their name.”

“Are you sure your degree isn’t in psychology?” Emily raised her eyebrows.

“History, and you know it. But all disciplines intertwine. History teaches that there are Daves in every culture and in every generation. And an equal number of Emilys who become ensnared. History definitely repeats itself. Don’t ask me why.”

“How did you know that was going to be my next question?”

“You’re pretty easy to read, Em. Your face is an open book.”

“Great! Gullible as a sheep, that’s me.” She tried to untangle their fingers, but he wouldn’t let go.

Without making it an issue, Camp kept hold of her hand as they wandered from site to site. He dropped it once to peer in the smoked windows of the Last Chance Store, which according to a sign on the door had recently closed for good.

“I’d say chances ran out for the Last Chance,” he quipped.

“It’s a shame,” Emily said. “According to the brochure it was the last trading post where pioneers could buy supplies until they reached Santa Fe. Look, they’ve built a supermarket on the corner. That’s progress, I guess.”

“At least the sign says the historical society has taken over the building.”

She nodded. “Well, I guess there’s only one more point on the tour.”

“Lead on.” Camp took her hand again, content to let her guide.

“It’s a statue of the pioneer mother in Madonna Park.” Crossing the street, they headed for a slab of carved gray marble set in a small triangle of grass. A young boy clung to the calico skirt of the woman in the statue. She cradled a babe in her arms.

Camp and Emily gazed without speaking at the careworn features on the lined face framed by a sunbonnet. Beneath her long dress the woman wore an unflattering pair of lace-up drover’s boots that looked too large for her feet, and too masculine. Sadly, there was little softness about the so-called Madonna of the Trail.

“She looks old before her time,” Emily whispered. “You can practically see the miles etched in her eyes.”

“But determination in the set of her jaw, too.” Camp said, backing away to take a picture with a small, disposable camera he pulled from his shirt pocket. He quickly snapped a second shot that included Emily. Her slender, jeans-clad figure beside the statue contrasted
then
and
now
more effectively than any words he might write in his paper.

Emily stuck out her tongue, stuck her thumbs in her ears and wiggled her fingers at him. “I hate having my picture taken. I hope it breaks your camera.”

“I hope not. It would be a shame to miss recording something so poignant, don’t you think? Even at that, my shots won’t compare with Gina’s.”

“I’m going to stop and see her now. I’ll tell her not to worry—that you’re taking up the artistic slack—shall I?”

“Somehow I’m not sure hearing there’s a camera in my hands will improve her morale.”

Emily laughed. “You may be right. Gina is a do-it-myself person. Odd that she trusts Mark to help out.”

“I get the distinct impression that, in her estimation, the world would do well without men. Perhaps she sees Mark as young enough to be trainable.”

“What’s the magic age beyond which a male becomes untrainable?” Emily asked in all seriousness.

Camp contemplated her through his eyelashes. “Does anyone in education believe a person is ever too old to learn? Isn’t learning and change exclusive of gender bias, Emily?” He gathered her hand in his again.

“That’s idealistic, Camp. Not everyone
wants
to change.”

“I’ll agree that desire and ability depend on the individual. I assume you have a specific person in mind.”

She glanced up sharply. “No. Well, yes...maybe. I know Dave was smart enough to make informed choices. He never did. I’d like to think Mark will. I wondered how long I’ll have any influence.”

She sounded so discouraged, Camp dropped her hand and slid an arm around her shoulders. “It doesn’t sound as if Dave received any positive direction as a kid. I’d say your odds with Mark are significantly higher.”

Emily reached up and threaded her fingers through Camp’s. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. You’re a nice man. I can’t imagine why some woman didn’t snap you up years ago.”

“I, ah, came close to marrying once.” It was on the tip of Camp’s tongue to tell her about Greta, except he found the whole experience hard to talk about. He was spared by Mark and Jared, who ran up, each dangling a string of fish.

Mark had changed from his sag clothes. Both boys wore overalls without shirts, and straw hats that left them looking like Huck Finn.

Emily broke from Camp to walk a slow circle around her son. “Wow. Do I know you? What a difference. I’m impressed. Also with the fish. Now I don’t have to worry about what to fix for dinner.”