My Three Husbands (20 page)

I took the elevator down and hurried toward the lobby doors. I don't know why I felt like I was doing something sneaky. I was a guest. I could do any damn thing I wanted.

In my long velvet gown, I felt like a princess. What was this velvet-clad princess doing? Escaping from a castle? No, running to meet her lover. I lifted the hem of my gown as I made a swift, graceful descent down the broad flagstone entrance stairs and along the path in front of the lodge. I stopped for a moment to light a Marlboro, then excitedly rushed on to my mysterious assignation.

It was very late or very early, depending on how you looked at it. The hour before dawn, that crossroads hour when magic drifts through the air like pollen and extraordinary things happen to ordinary people. At the end of this adventure, I would find sanctuary in the strong, loving arms of my prince. I could rejoice in his body and my own.

A warning flashed through my thoughts, interrupting the flow of the fantasy. Something about birth control. I waved it aside. I didn't want warnings. I didn't want caution. I wanted life served steaming hot and beautiful.

As the princess rushed to meet her secret lover,
I mentally wrote,
her full, eager breasts strained against the bodice of her tight velvet gown.

Behind darkened windows the thin rich people slumbered and dreamed of suing the hotel for damages or trauma. Outside, it was nothing but stars and trees and a vast yearning silence. Living in the city, I'd never heard the kind of immense natural quiet that engulfed me now.

Behind the building it was darker still. One narrow path threaded across the meadow and through the giant trees to the river. Shadows were heaped upon shadows. The river sang its urgent rushing tune.

More and more space opened up around me as my eyes adjusted to the dark. True wilderness began just a few hundred yards from where I stood. It was so mysterious, quiet but deeply alive, a huge, breathing, completely unknown world.

I stopped in the middle of the meadow, expecting Tremaynne to emerge from the trees and claim me. I was all his. My heart was beating fast. I knew he could see me. I didn't want to speak. I didn't want to call his name. I was there. I was his. That was enough.

A shape appeared from the pool of nocturnal shadow and slowly approached me.

It was not Tremaynne.

Unless my husband had been transformed into an enormous white horse.

For that's what approached me in the star-spangled darkness. A giant white horse led by Kristin, the girl who'd mistaken me for Godiva.

 

 

She smiled and put a finger to her lips. Then she brought the giant creature right up next to me.

I moved away, skittish of its massive weight, its animal unknowability. The horse shook its head and snuffled, silvery vapor shooting from its nostrils.

I just stood there, staring in surprise. I didn't know what to say.

Kristin held out the reins. “Your horse, oh my queen,” she whispered.

“I don't have a horse,” I whispered back.

“The one you ride naked,” she said. “In the video.”

“Oh. That.”

Kristin kept her voice low. “That song you sang about naked passions? I could have written that song.”

“Listen,” I said, finally coming to my senses, “did you see anyone else down there? In the trees?”

“There wasn't anyone else. Just me and him.”

“Him who?”

“Him the horse. Chiron. I snuck him out of the stable. We've been waiting for you.”

She was a fan so I tried not to sound disappointed. “Why?”

“Well,
look
at him.” She stroked Chiron's shoulder. “He's the strongest, handsomest horse in the West.”

I looked, still wary. Chiron was beautiful, I had to admit. He was perfect, like an illustration in a fairytale. A thick golden mane fell across his strong white neck. The silvery-gold cascade of his tail was so long that it swept the ground. The horse looked rare, noble, and incredibly strong.

“I thought you might like to ride him,” Kristin said. “Like you do in the video.”

“That was just a video,” I said.

“It changed my life,” Kristin said solemnly.

“It did?” I felt a thrill of pride but didn't know what for.

“You made me realize.
Finally.”

“Realize what?”

“Who I am,” she whispered, eyes shining, voice husky with emotion. “What I am.” She stepped closer.

Her intensity was pretty intense. She looked vulnerable and predatory at the same time. I knew I could have her if I wanted to. I could induct her into the sisterhood right then and there. I wasn't totally unresponsive: Her need brought out my own. She wanted comfort, and so did I.

But she looked so young.

And I was married.

“They'd fire me if they knew what I did,” Kristin confessed. “This is, like, the most expensive horse in the world. Andalusian. Mr. Brunelli just bought it.”

“Marcello Brunelli?”

“He's going to breed it. So if anything ever happened to this horse—”

“Well, thanks for showing it to me.”

“You don't want to ride him?” She sounded incredulous, as if she couldn't believe I would refuse her extraordinary offer.

I smiled meaninglessly.

“How about just sit on him for a minute? I wouldn't dare, but you—well, it's kind of like he belongs to you.” She stared at me with that disconcerting blend of hope and hunger. “And I'd never forget it.”

“It doesn't have a saddle,” I said.

“Mr. Brunelli keeps the saddle in his cabin.”

“Where's that?”

“His cabin? Way out in the woods. On the river. It's huge. A palace. But you don't need a saddle with this horse,” Kristin insisted. “I'll help you up. I'll lead you around the meadow. Very slow. Like a queen. Like in the video.”

“I can't sit on a horse wearing this dress,” I protested.

“Sideways!” she said eagerly. “I'll help you. I used to raise horses. You don't have to be afraid.”

I eyed the massive white creature looming above her. Chiron eyed me. I didn't know if it was me or Godiva who finally gave the fatal nod.

 

 

I used to dream about horses when I was a girl, but I'd never been on one in my life.

Chiron seemed perfectly docile when Kristin helped me up, but then nodded his head and stepped back and forth like he was having second thoughts.

“He's just getting used to your weight,” Kristin reassured me. “Whoa, boy.”

“What am I supposed to hold onto?”

“Just balance yourself so you don't fall. You have to turn more sideways, almost like you're riding sidesaddle.”

How the hell did those women do it, I wondered. How did they manage to look poised and beautiful while corkscrewed sideways wearing heavy riding habits and hats with veils?

“Go really slow,” I said when I was settled on the horse's broad white back.

“Here,” Kristin said, “take the reins.”

It was like being handed the keys to a powerful new car. “Stay close,” I ordered.

“Don't worry. I'm right here.” She made a clucking sound and softly patted Chiron's rump, then my thigh.

We started off. It was more about trusting myself, and my sense of balance, than it was about trusting the horse. My confidence grew as we slowly made our way across the meadow.

Kristin gazed up at me with rapturous eyes, like a besotted valet accompanying a queen. I straightened my back and tried to look noble. Queen Godiva on horseback in the River of No Return Wilderness Area.

“This is like my dream come true,” Kristin said. “I don't want to wake up.”

I respected her fantasy and didn't object when she pulled out a small camera and begged for a few snaps. I did my best to look memorable, smiling with my mouth shut.

“Oh, Godiva. I'd do anything for you.” Kristin laid her head against my thigh, then began to kiss and caress it.

To keep her, or me, from going any further, I flicked the reins. Kristin looked up at me, her eyes drowning with desire, as Chiron strode deeper into the trees and toward the river. The air was cold and sweet on my face and hands, but the heat emanating from the animal warmed me. Veils of silvery mist swirled along the surface of the river and trailed up its banks. The horizon blushed pink and a pale light seeped into the sky. A bird began to call out a sequence of tender liquid notes.

“He must be thirsty,” Kristin said as Chiron moved steadily toward the river. His hooves crunched on the pebbly rocks heaped along the shore. I stiffened as he splashed into the water and lowered his head to drink.

“Get me back on land,” I said.

“Pull back on the reins,” Kristin said from the bank.

The moment I did so, the horse gave its head an obstinate shake and stepped deeper into the rushing current. The water was fast but still pretty shallow along the shore. A few feet farther out it was so deep I couldn't see the bottom. It looked like maybe there was a sudden drop-off.

“Pull his tail or something,” I called to Kristin.

“No, you have to rein him back,” she said. “Get his head up and turn him back around.”

I pulled on the reins. Chiron resisted. I gave a sharp tug. That seemed to piss him off. He let out an annoyed snuffle, shook his head, and plunged another few steps into the river. His long golden tail swished up a spray of cold water.

My perch suddenly felt extremely precarious. The rushing sound of the river filled my ears. I could feel the force of the current. If I looked down, all I saw was a dizzying sheet of moving water brightly freckled with morning light. I didn't want to freak and do anything to further annoy the horse, but I was starting to feel prickles of panic.

“Help me,” I called to Kristin. “Do something.”

“I'm coming out there.” Kristin tugged off her boots and jeans. She was wearing boy's underpants. Her legs were strong and shapely. She let out a gasp as she waded into the river. “It's freezing!” She lost her balance but caught herself before toppling backwards. “The rocks are really slippery!”

The horse looked at her with its big black eyes.

“Come on, boy,” Kristin coaxed. Chiron ignored her. He turned to stare at the far bank. “Throw me the reins,” Kristin said, hobbling closer.

I was afraid I'd slip off Chiron's back if I made one hasty move. So when I tossed the reins it wasn't far enough, and Kristin wasn't able to catch them. The current took the leather straps and carried them downstream.

Chiron shifted uneasily. He let out a soft whinny and stretched his long white neck.

As I leaned forward to retrieve the reins, he took another step forward. The pebbly rocks gave way under his weight. I let out a squawk of terror as he started to slide down into the water. Sensing the danger, he tried to back up and regain solid footing.

“Come on, boy, come on, come on,” Kristin pleaded.

I scrunched forward, clinging to his neck. Beneath me I could feel the giant muscles and machinery of his flesh working to regain his balance.

“Venus!”

Just as the horse was wheeling around I heard someone shout my name from the opposite shore. It took a second before I dared to turn my head and look in the direction of the shout.

I couldn't see anyone. But I knew it was Tremaynne.

I was certain of it.

The minute Kristin was able to grab Chiron's reins and lead the horse onto dry land, I jumped off and scanned the far side of the river. “Tremaynne!” I called, cupping my hands like a bullhorn.

“Shhh!” A wet, shivering Kristin tied Chiron to a tree and scrambled to get her pants back on. “Please! If anyone hears you—”

“Tremaynne!” I called.

“They'll hear you and come down to investigate. Security will.”

“Where are you?” I yelled.

“Please. Shhh. If they find out I took the horse . . .
Please.”

Her panic finally registered with me. “Is there any way to get across this river?” I asked.

“Canoe,” she said, staring at me with a mixture of fear and longing as she jammed her feet into socks and boots.

“Do you know how to canoe?”

She nodded. “But I gotta go. Gotta get him back. Gotta dry him off.”

“You said you'd do anything for me.”

“I'm a coward,” she cried. “I'm not like you. My naked passions won't ever become real.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. “Sure they will.”

I reached out to stroke her hair, but she pulled away and refused to meet my eyes. “If he's not back when the stable opens . . . It's almost morning . . . Security.”

She untied Chiron and quickly led him away.

D
addy was standing in the lobby, staring moodily at his model of the lodge, when I walked in. He looked at me like I was a ghost come back from the dead.

“Venus. Honey. Are you all right?”

I wasn't, but I nodded.

“Where've you been?” He glanced at his watch.

“Went out to have a smoke.”

He smiled in amused disbelief. “You can smoke on the balcony of your room, silly.”

“I was afraid I might accidentally set off an alarm.”

“That was very considerate of you.” He put an arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. “All these alarms and detectors and sensors and monitors. They're a complete pain in the ass.”

“Did the sprinklers go off because of the candles?” I asked.

“Probably. The smoke detector wasn't properly calibrated.”

“Could have been worse, Daddy.”

“I'm not so sure,” he sighed. “Of course they want to blame me, but it's the manufacturer who's at fault. And the installer.” He scratched his jaw, fingernails rasping on the stubble, then nervously turned back to his model, like a bird protecting its nest. “Everyone demands heightened security systems. But if they don't know how to properly install or operate them, what good are they?”

“It was an adventure, Daddy. Nobody got hurt. It'll give them something to talk about.”

“That's what the management's worried about.” He spied a smudge on the Plexiglas covering his model and rubbed it with his shirt sleeve.

It was one of the few times in my life that I'd seen him unshaven, his face covered with the dark sexy shadow of a beard. He hadn't been to bed at all, he said. After the “sprinkler event,” Geof Killingsworth asked Daddy if he'd accompany him on a complete inspection of the hotel to make sure there was no additional water damage. Then Daddy had voluntarily helped to coordinate the cleanup effort. He wanted to make sure that the staff didn't use any abrasive solvents or tools that might damage the fresh new surfaces of his building. Daddy couldn't bear it when people moved into his buildings and didn't take care of them properly.

Now, at 5:30
A.M
., he was waiting for Geof Killingsworth again. This time Geof needed his help to deactivate the computerized smoke alarm and sprinkler systems. Lumina International, the company that owned and managed Pine Mountain Lodge, didn't want to risk any more unpleasant surprises that might make their rich and famous guests bolt and spread horror stories to the media. From a public relations standpoint, this gala opening was crucial. So the highest-ups had decided to switch off the fire systems until they could get the installer back to recalibrate.

“It hasn't been much of a honeymoon for you,” I said sympathetically, clasping Daddy around the waist from behind, the way I used to when I was a little girl and wanted to keep him from going off to work.

“Things happen,” he said, stroking my cold hands. His hands were big and warm and calming. “Whitman understands.”

I put my cheek against his back, like a papoose. “I wish I did.”

“What?” He stroked my arms.

“Understand.”

“Understand what, baby?”

“Why things happen the way they do.” It was puzzling to me. “I mean, do we make things happen to ourselves? Or do they just happen, and there's nothing we can do about it?”

“Both,” Daddy said.

“So how's a person supposed to know what to do?” I asked.

“Depends on the person and the situation,” he answered.

“Okay, let's say someone's missing.
Maybe.
You aren't sure. I mean they could be missing, or they could just be pissed off at you and staying away.”

“Who is it?” Daddy asked. “Child, lover, husband, parent, who?”

“Let's say husband.”

“Tremaynne?”

I pulled away from him, trying to hide a sudden squall of weepiness. “Let's say my husband is missing.
Maybe.
Let's say I can't be sure.”

Daddy smiled and took me in his arms again. His breath smelled of coffee. “You'd have to be a pretty careless wife to lose your husband on your honeymoon.”

It came out before I could stop it. “That's when Mom lost you, wasn't it?”

Daddy let go of me and stepped back with a cool, disapproving look. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you didn't want to have sex with her, did you?”

“Yes,” he said, “I did.”

“But you didn't. Or couldn't.”

He frowned at me.

“So that's when she knew she'd lost you. Women know when they're not wanted.”

“Venus,” Daddy said, “what's this about? Whatever it is, it's not about your mother and me.”

I turned away and sucked in a ragged breath as my eyes filled with tears. I could barely choke out the words, but it was a question that I really needed to ask. “How do you know when someone loves you? How do you know that?”

My sudden burst of weepy emotion drew a look of bewildered concern. “I suppose you can tell from the way a person behaves toward you,” Daddy offered.

I sniffed and cleared my throat.

“Venus?” He lifted my chin and made me look at him. “Do you want to tell me what's wrong? You haven't looked happy once on this trip.”

I wanted to tell him. Oh man, I wanted to scream out my frustration and doubts and worries. But I couldn't bear to admit, even to myself, that I was a loser in the sweepstakes of love. I wanted my life to be fun and glamorously romantic, the way Daddy's life was with Whitman. And what was it, so far, my life? One big messy mistake after another.

“Sorry, Daddy. It's nothing.” I blew out a deep Buddha breath, the way Whitman had taught me years ago when I was painfully constipated and needed enemas all the time. “I'm just really tired.”

Daddy kissed me again, this time on the lips. “This is your honeymoon, baby. It's supposed to be fun. Unforgettable.”

I nodded. “Well, so far it's been pretty unforgettable.”

Daddy suddenly looked amused, like he was keeping a funny secret to himself. “What do you think of Geof Killingsworth?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Really handsome and really tight-assed. Why?”

Daddy looked at me, then away, like he was embarrassed. “He made a pass at me.”

“Oh my god. When?”

Daddy didn't seem to hear me. “I was stunned. No one's made a pass at me in twenty years.”

His naïveté was mind-boggling. “Daddy, people make passes at you all the time. Men
and
women. You just don't see them. It doesn't register. Because you're always so tuned in to Whitman.”

“This one registered,” he said.

“Well? What happened?”

“Swear you won't tell Whitman Whittlesley the Fourth?”

I raised my hand for the solemn oath. “I swear.”

Daddy thrust his hands in his pockets and began to jingle his change. “Well, we were going around the building and suddenly he just stopped. We were standing in a hallway. Right about here.” He tapped on the Plexiglas, above a wing of the lodge. “He just stopped and turned around to face me. And he said, ‘John Gilroy, you are the hottest man I've ever known. I'd do anything to have a lover like you.'”

“Wow.” My pulse was racing. “What did you say?”

“Nothing. I was too embarrassed.”

“So what happened?”

Daddy scratched his chin again. “Well, I just sort of nodded and said thanks. And he nodded and we started off again.”

“And now you're going off with him again?” I couldn't help thinking that maybe Daddy was secretly attracted to Geof Killingsworth. If he was, it was the first time his attention had ever strayed from Whitman—at least that I knew about. Maybe the dads weren't as happy as they seemed.

“John?”

We both turned. There was Geof Killingsworth hurrying down Daddy's signature staircase. He was graceful as a dancer and carried what looked like a thick manual.

My presence hardly registered with the manager of Pine Mountain Lodge. He couldn't peel his eyes away from Daddy. “I think between us we can figure out how to disengage the system,” he said.

“We can give it a try,” Daddy agreed.

“I really appreciate all your time, John. There's no one else around who's smart enough to help me with all this.”

Daddy thrust his hands back into his pockets and jingled some more change, rocking back and forth on his heels. “You don't want the system turned off for more than a day or two,” he said. “In case there's a real fire.”

“I know,” Geof said. “But we can't afford to have another sprinkler event.” He turned to me with a big disarming smile. “You're not going to write about that in
Travel,
are you?”

I shook my head.

“It's the sort of glitch that can happen with any new computerized security system.” Geof Killingsworth looked at my dad again. “Okay, John, should we go?”

Daddy nodded and the two of them hurried off, heads together, discussing the sprinkler system.

Or were they?

 

 

When I got back to my suite I fell onto the bed and wept until my eyes burned. But crying didn't provide any relief.

I had to
do
something.

But what?

I couldn't just sit back and passively wait for Tremaynne's return. I had to get across that goddamned river and find him. Without letting the dads or anyone else know what I was doing.

I had to let him know that I loved him. That I wanted him back. That I'd do whatever he wanted.

So how?

That cold, swift river scared me.

And so did the realization that my brand-new husband, still under warranty, had up and left me without so much as a word of explanation.

I hated him for that.

Between bouts of sobbing I looked up and saw that the telephone message light was blinking. My heart leapt. Then crashed when I didn't hear Tremaynne's voice.

“Venus, this is Whitman. I don't want to disturb you so I'm leaving this message without having the phone ring. Listen, I think you've still got my cell phone. I gave it to you yesterday when we were driving here. In Hell's Canyon. At least that's what I remember. Anyway, sweetheart, I can't find it anywhere and I've got a lot of important numbers and things programmed into it. So please be a darling and bring it over to our room when you're up and about. Just leave it on top of my briefcase if I'm not here. Looks like both your dads are going to be busy all day. But sometime later this afternoon we're going to sneak away and try to find that secret hot springs my source told me about. We'll need the four-wheel drive, so leave the keys on my briefcase with the cell phone. Okay, darling, that's it. Bye-bye. I hope you're enjoying your honeymoon. Everything's free, so take advantage of all the spa services.”

Whitman's cell phone. I ransacked my purse and luggage to make sure it wasn't there. Then I sat on the edge of the bed, panting and chewing my lips.

I'd given the phone to Tremaynne. He'd made that first call on it. He'd never given it back to me. He still had it.

I picked up the room phone and dialed Whitman's cell number.

It rang four times, then I got a message that the call was being forwarded to a voice messaging system. Whitman's voice came on, asking callers to leave a message. I hung up. Then redialed. Again it rang four times before clicking over to the message.

I did this for an hour. I figured if Tremaynne had the phone he'd eventually answer it. If your cell phone rang steadily for an hour wouldn't you assume someone needed to talk to you really bad?

But maybe Tremaynne didn't have the phone. Maybe he'd lost it or someone had stolen it or he'd turned it off. It was my responsibility to find out. Otherwise, Whitman might find himself with a ten-thousand dollar phone bill and it would be my fault because I was the one who handed the phone over to Tremaynne in the first place.

Finally it happened. Someone answered.

But nothing was said.

I thought I could hear birds chirping and maybe a distant voice on the other end.

My heart started to hammer. I walked out to the balcony. “Tremaynne? Can you hear me? It's Venus.”

“Yeah,” he finally whispered. His voice sounded frightened.

“Where are you?”

“Hot springs.”

“When are you coming back?”

“Can't. Big fuck-up.”

“What're you talking about?”

“Can't talk!” he hissed.

“Are you hurt?” Silence. “Tremaynne, are you hurt? What's the matter?”

“Don't tell anyone where I am.”

“Are you okay?”

Silence.

“I'm coming to get you,” I said.

“Hurry!” he said.

The phone went dead.

 

 

I didn't have any practical outdoor clothes with me. The lodge boutique sold expensive “casual wear,” but I didn't have enough cash to buy anything and all my credit cards had been revoked. Besides, the boutique didn't open until ten o'clock.

I called the switchboard and asked to be connected to Marielle and Fokke Van der Zout. I prayed Marielle would answer.

She did, but obviously I awakened her from a deep sleep. It took her a moment to register who I was and what I wanted. She told me the room number and said, “Come over.”