Their New-Found Family

“No—wait!” she cried out. Dry mouthed she said, “What were you going to tell my mom? I want to hear.”

“At my uncle’s hockey camp, he got struck on the head by a hockey stick and went into a coma.”

“A coma—”

“You know. Where you sleep and never wake up?”

“I know what it means.” Fear shot through her. “I-is he okay now?”

“Yes. But when he woke up a month after his accident, he couldn’t remember anything.”

“You mean he had amnesia?”

“Yes. There are six weeks of his life wiped out of his mind. He never remembered playing hockey in Canada, or his trip back to Switzerland. Those memories are gone forever.”

“You’re kidding—”

“It’s the truth. You can call the Belle-Vue Hospital in Lausanne. That’s where bad head injury patients are taken. My uncle was there for a month!

“Ever since then he’s been troubled because he doesn’t remember anything about that time on the ship. Sometimes he worries so much, he gets bad headaches.

“I was thinking that if your mother called him to tell him about what happened while they were on board together, it would make him feel a lot better.”

“How did you learn she was on the ship with him?”

“I was looking in an old backpack in his closet and found a note she wrote him on the ship’s stationary. She put her address in Switzerland at the bottom. The school secretary said she came from New Hampshire. That’s how I got this phone number.”

“Oh my gosh— Listen Alain— Give me your number. I’ll tell my mom you want to talk to her.”

“Okay. Here are two numbers. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She’d reached for the pad and pencil her grandmother kept on the kitchen counter.

He gave her the information. While Natalie wrote down the digits, she could hear her mom honking out in front.

“I’ll be at the second number for two weeks starting tomorrow. Then I’ll be back at this one.”

“Okay.”

“Tell her to call me at this exact same time.”

“I will. Now I have to go. Goodbye, Alain.”

“Goodbye.”

She hung up and called her grandma at Bleylock’s to tell her she was going home with her mom. Then she hurried out to the car where her mom was waiting.

“Hi, honey!”

“Hi, Mom.” Natalie leaned across the front seat to kiss her cheek.

“Before I left the office, Steve called,” her mother said, reversing to the street. “He’s taking us out to dinner tonight at the Brazilian Grill, so we’re going to have to hurry to be ready on time. Friday nights mean a long line. If we’re there early, there’ll be time for a movie after.”

“I don’t want to go.”

Her mother flashed her an anxious glance. “You look a little flushed. What’s wrong, honey? Don’t you feel well?”

“My stomach’s kind of upset.” It was the truth.

“Well I’m not leaving you if you’re coming down with flu. It’s going around.” She reached out to touch her forehead with the back of her hand. “You feel warm. That settles it. I’ll call Steve and cancel.”

“Don’t do that yet, Mom. I’m not sick the way you mean, but I do need to talk to you in private before we go 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,” she said, tight lipped.

“I’ll tell you what it said.” She gave her daughter the word by word account. “Even knowing what I’d written to him, your father didn’t act on the information.

“He could have tried to contact me, just like his nephew did, if only out of curiosity. But he didn’t. Instead—according to Alain—he went away on a trip not the least bit interested in following up.”

Her daughter’s face crumpled before she ran into her arms. Rachel absorbed the sobs that echoed in her own soul.

“I know this is so hard, honey.” She kissed Natalie’s hair and cheeks. “But we have to look ahead, not back. Don’t you see? Your father’s mind is a blank in regards to that period of his life. He’s moved on, and probably has a wife and family.

“What’s done is done. Too many years have gone by. That’s how he honestly feels, otherwise he would have phoned us instead of his nephew making the call. What more proof do we need, huh?”

“I guess we don’t,” Natalie answered in a strangled voice. She finally pulled away and wiped her eyes.

“Come on. Let’s get ourselves ready to go out to dinner.”

Natalie hung back. “Mom? Do you like Steve?”

“Yes, but I haven’t been going out with him very long.”

“Do you think you could love him the way you once loved my father?”

“Honey, every relationship is different. Steve’s growing on me.”

“But it’s not like it was when you first met my father.”

She sucked in her breath. “No. Nothing will ever be like that again.”

Natalie eyed her intently. “How come?”

“Because I was eighteen, impressionable and totally naïve about love. But I want you to know it was the best thing that ever happened, because I have you. You’re my whole life! I love you so much you’ll never know.” She hugged her tightly again.

“I love you too, Mom.”

“I know it’s hard but let’s forget this phone call ever happened.”

“Okay.”

“Hey—Tris—”

Tris was standing on the crowded quai, impatiently waiting for the train to pull into the station. At the sound of Claude’s voice, he turned in his direction. His childhood buddy came running up to him.

“I’ve been looking all over for you since lunch. I just got off the phone with Giselle. Why don’t you come home with me this weekend? Her friend Helene is visiting from Neuchatel. She’s a real babe.”

He smiled. “If my nephew weren’t waiting for me, there’s nothing I’d like more.” Since the funeral he’d been too preoccupied trying to help Alain cope to pursue an active social life.

His friend sobered. “How’s he doing?” he asked as the train came into view.

“According to my parents, he’s made it through these two weeks without falling apart.”

“Sounds like progress.”

“Of a sort. Thanks for the invite, Claude. Let’s plan a ski trip in early December. By then I’m hoping Alain will be able to handle the separation better.”

“I’ll count on it.” He patted his shoulder. “Bonne chance.”

Tris nodded. “Give my best to your wife. Take care, mon ami.”

Relieved to be getting back to Caux, Tris boarded the train and looked for a seat. When he couldn’t find one he stood in front of the window at the entrance of the voiture, staring blindly at the passing landscape.

He had no doubts Giselle’s girlfriend lived up to Claude’s description of her. But even if it weren’t for Alain needing him so desperately, he wouldn’t have taken Claude up on his invitation.

Since hearing the words of the note Alain had found in the backpack, Tris had been haunted by them.

She must have felt awful when you never even called her.

Alain had said a mouthful. There hadn’t been a moment in the last two weeks that Tris hadn’t wondered about his relationship with Rachel Marsden.

He checked his watch. The train wouldn’t reach Montreux for another hour. Time enough for him to call Geneva and make a few inquiries.

Perhaps the Pensionnat du Grand-Chene was still in business and could provide him with a little information about one of its former students. If the school no longer existed, he would have to let it go.

The operator found the number and within seconds he was put through to the directrice. When Madame Soulis came on the line he introduced himself.

“Monsieur Monbrisson! It’s an honor to talk to you. I saw you on a recent television program about the expansion of your hotels in France. It was very impressive.”

“Thank you, madame.”

“How can I help you?”

“I’m inquiring about a student who attended your school twelve years ago.”

“Twelve you say? Just a moment. I’ll bring up that year on the computer.”

“She was a friend of mine, but we lost track years ago and I don’t have her old home address. Would it be possible for you to check your information for me?”

“Bien sur. What was her name?”

“Rachel Marsden.”

“Rachel? Ah, oui. She was the lovely blond American girl who came to us in the fall. I remember her particularly because she became ill and returned to the States after only a few months.”

The revelation sent an involuntary shudder through his body. Having to think fast he said, “That explains why I couldn’t reach her.”

“Yes. We were very sorry to see her go. She was an excellent student. Here is the number and address of her parents, Dr. and Mrs. Edward Marsden. As I recall, he was an eye surgeon.”

Tris jotted down the information. “Merci, madame. You’ve been of immense help.”

“Pas de quoi, monsieur.”

When they hung up, he immediately called the international operator for New Hampshire to find out if Dr. Marsden still had the same phone number as before.

There’d been a change.

He wrote down the new number, telling the operator not to connect him. It was only seven in the morning on the East Coast. He’d give it another half hour, then call.

Before he clicked off, he asked the operator if a Rachel or an R. Marsden were listed. To his surprise there was a listing with an R. It could belong to either sex, of course. Nevertheless he took down the number before hanging up.

A certain percentage of married professional women used their maiden names for business purposes. In a few minutes he would check it out first before trying to reach her parents.

The train rounded a curve and passed through a tunnel. The darkness reminded him of that one portion of his life he couldn’t remember.

Some friends from his old hockey team had long since filled him in on the time they’d spent together in Montreal. His family and doctors had been able to account for everything that had happened to him at his training camp and the subsequent accident that had put him in the hospital in Lausanne.

It was the time in between…the time on the ship and the period before he arrived at Interlaken that had eluded him all these years. In a while it was possible he would be able to talk to the woman who’d known him well enough to call him Tris.

When the train came back out into the sunlight, he should have felt a sense of relief that before the day was done, one phone call might give him closure on his past.

Yet a new dread had attacked him since learning Rachel Marsden had returned to the States a few months after arriving at the school because she wasn’t well.

My love—I’ll never forget last night as long as I live.

That one line from her note resounded in his head, causing him to break out in a cold sweat.

“Mom? Kendra’s dad has come for us.”

“Okay, honey. Have a great day. I’ll pick you two up at the rink after hockey practice.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“I love you.”

Rachel heard the front door close.

She finished brushing her hair, then slipped on her suit jacket, not wanting to be late for work. Rachel had fixed the girls’ breakfast after their sleepover, not realizing how late it had gotten.

After a quick glance around the bedroom, she hurried downstairs to get her purse which she must have left in the kitchen. When the house phone rang, she assumed it was one of Natalie’s friends who’d just missed her. She reached for the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Is this the Marsden residence?” The deep male voice on the other end spoke with only the slightest trace of accent, yet it sounded vaguely familiar.

She stirred uneasily. “Yes?”

“I’m looking for a Rachel Marsden. Do I have the right number?”

“W-who is this?” she cried softly.

After an extended silence, “Does the name Tris mean anything to you?”

Suddenly Rachel’s legs grew weak. She started to tremble as memories came flooding back.

It was Tris.

People could age, but that was his voice, his fingerprint. Its unique timbre resonated in every particle of her body, overwhelming her. He was actually alive, speaking to her from the other end of the phone line.

“H-hello, Tris.” Trying to control her panic she said, “I guess it was too much to expect that your nephew would be able to keep his promise.”

There was another pause. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

“Please don’t pretend you didn’t realize Alain already called me two weeks ago. H-he told me about your amnesia,” she stammered, mortified by her loss of composure.

“I’ve been away on army maneuvers. Though I’ve phoned him every night, he never mentioned that he’d been in contact with you.”

She drew in a shaky breath, trying to recover her equilibrium. “Are you saying you made the decision to call me all on your own?”

“Bien sur,” he drawled with quiet irony. When he spoke in French, it was like she’d gone back in time where everything sounded so much more intimate.

“While I was preparing for my trip, Alain rummaged through an old backpack of mine and came across a note you’d written to me on board the QE2.

“I intended to track you down, but I couldn’t do anything about it until my military stint was over for the year.”

“And now it is?” Rachel’s voice shook despite her efforts to keep it steady.

“Yes. I’m on my way back to Montreux right now and will be getting off the train in a few minutes. Alain will be waiting for me. Be assured I will have a frank discussion with him about why it was wrong to take matters into his own hands.”

“No—” she cried out.

“No, what?” he demanded with a ring of authority in his voice reminiscent of the younger Tris who’d exhibited a powerful personality even back then.

She moistened her lips nervously. “I asked him not to tell you. He promised it would be our secret. Since he kept his end of the bargain, please don’t say anything to him about it.”

“Why did you feel you had to swear him to silence?”

Her heart jammed into her ribs. “I was very touched that he loves you so much, he wanted me to help you fill in the blanks of your memory. But I told him that it should have been you who called me if you felt the need. Since you hadn’t done that, I thought it best to forget the whole thing.”

“You did an effective job of getting through to him,” he murmured, increasing her guilt. “Aside from the fact that I don’t approve of what he did, I find your reaction even more curious.”

Her eyes closed tightly. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“If we were simply two college students who enjoyed each other’s company aboard ship, I’m interested to find out why you’re so frightened, you couldn’t be open about it with my nephew.”

“Frightened?” Perspiration beaded her hairline.

“Yes. Shall I tell you about my conversation with Madame Soulis, the directrice of your school in Geneve? According to her you became ill and had to leave Grand-Chene after only a few months.”

He knew.

Rachel almost collapsed.

Tris was no ordinary man. His genius was apparent whether he was captain of his hockey team, or head of a multimillion dollar family business.

The Monbrisson name was renowned throughout Europe, all because of his instincts which made him a force to contend with in the corporate world. He would never let this go now.

“Tris? You’ve caught me as I was walking out the door to work. I’m afraid this isn’t a good time for the kind of discussion you want to have. If you cou—”

“Don’t let me keep you,” he interrupted her. “The next time we talk, it’ll be in person,” he declared, sending a frisson of alarm through her body.

“No—please—” she cried, needing space to think, but he wasn’t giving her any.

“That’s the second time I’ve heard pure terror in your voice.”

Ignoring his astute observation she said, “No one deserves closure more than you do. I’m so sorry about your terrible accident, and I would be happy to meet you somewhere to answer any questions you have.”

“I’ll make this easy for you and see you at your house tonight.”

She groaned inwardly. There was no stopping him. “I-I have plans for this evening. If you could wait until tomorrow, I’ll take time off from work.”

“Bien. I’ll be in Concord this evening and will call you to make final arrangements. A bientot, Rachel.”

“Uncle Tris!”

As Tris stepped off the train, his nephew came flying. They gave each other a bear hug.

“Where are your grandparents?”

“In the car at the back of the station.”

“Good. Why don’t we get a drink before we join them? I’m thirsty.”

“So am I. It’s been hot for the last few days.”

“It was warm where I was, too.”

They made their way inside the gare to the food counter. Tris bought them two sodas. They wandered over by the windows away from everyone else to drink them.

“I’m glad you’re back.”

“So am I, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave again for a few more days. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

A pained expression broke out on Alain’s face. “When do you have to go?”

“As soon as I can change clothes and pack a bag.”

“Did Guy say there’s an emergency at one of the hotels?”

“No. I’m flying to New Hampshire to meet Rachel Marsden.”

The bottle almost fell out of his nephew’s hand. “You are?”

“Yes. I phoned her a little while ago. She’s expecting me tonight.”

His nephew suddenly averted his eyes, the telltale sign of his guilt. “Did she tell you I called her?” Alain asked, working the toe of his sandal against the floor.