“Tell me what?” He was really pressing her. He heard what she was saying and the way she sounded, and he was beginning to sound panicked. It was pathetic. Instead of panicking now, he should have noticed the situation six months earlier, or even two. That might have made a difference. Now it wouldn't.
“I'm telling you I'm miserable with you, or hadn't you noticed? And you're just as miserable with me. And don't be dishonest about it.”
“It's been a hard time, but I'm sure it'll be fine,” he said, denying all the agony of the last year, the bitterness, the silence, the hatred.
“Why would it be fine? What is possibly going to change it?” She had asked him to see a therapist months before and he had refused. He was not dealing with it, and he was hiding. How could it possibly get any better? But he sounded as though he was fighting for his life now.
“I don't know what's going on here.” He sounded completely confused, and totally unprepared for her accusations, as though he had never expected her to notice, as though he could just park her somewhere and beat on her occasionally, and come back one day if he felt better. Well, it was too late. And suddenly he knew it. “I don't understand why you're coming over.” He was still trying to deny it.
“We'll talk about it next week,” she said, unwilling to pursue it any further.
“Maybe I can come to New York for a weekend,” he said, as though having her come to London was too threatening. But she wasn't going to wait a moment longer than she had to.
“You don't need to do that. You're busy. I won't take up too much time. I promise. I'm going to try and meet up with Alyssa.”
“Does she know you're coming?” Did everyone? He sounded utterly panicked.
“Not yet,” Mary Stuart said coolly. She had loved him for too long, given too much to him, and waited too long for it to get better. And now she had nothing left to give him. She wasn't even sorry. “I'll try and track her down before I come.”
“Maybe we can all spend a weekend together,” he said, sounding hopeful.
“I don't want to do that. That's not why I'm coming. I'll come to London to see you for a day or two, and then I'll fly to wherever she is.” She was not going to let him hide behind their daughter, or have him play little family at her expense. This was between her and her husband and no one else, and she didn't want Alyssa with them.
“You can stay longer if you want. As long as you're coming over…” His voice trailed off but he was beginning to sense that it was pointless. He was not a complete fool, and he had never heard her so heartless or so angry. It never even occurred to him that there might be someone else. She didn't sound that way, and she was not that kind of woman. He felt certain that she had always been faithful to him, and he was right. But he had never, ever heard her so angry. It was more than anger, it was disdain. He knew now that it had gone too far. And he knew exactly what he was going to hear when she came to London. He respected her for coming to tell him herself and not writing to him, but that didn't make it any better.
He was crushed when they hung up. She could have saved herself the trip. He knew precisely what she was going to tell him. All he could think of to do was send her a fax. And when she got it an hour later, she looked at it and threw it in the garbage. It fell on the floor instead, and Zoe picked it up that afternoon and shook her head when she read it. The poor guy really didn't have a clue. He was hopeless.
“Looking forward to seeing you next week. Warm regards to you and your friends, Bill.” For a drowning man who was fighting for his life, he might as well have been clinging to a toothpick. And it seemed obvious to Zoe, or anyone who knew Mary Stuart, that he was not going to make it.
Chapter 20
By Thursday, they were each clinging to the last of their days, like worry beads they were each hanging on to for different reasons. Of the three of them Zoe was the most excited to go home, she'd been talking to Sam every day, she was feeling well, and she was anxious to see her baby. But she still loved being at the ranch, and felt that each day there was an opportunity to get stronger. It was like going to Lourdes, she said jokingly, she could look up at the mountains and pray and she knew she would go home a whole person. And John Kroner even said there was something to that.
But for the others, each day less was an agony of sorts, a priceless gift they had lost, something they knew they would never again recapture. In the face of their departure, Hartley was beginning to fear that they had been too cautious, that they should have had an affair, that they should have done more than kiss and hold each other, and learn all about each other. He saw what Tanya and Gordon had, and he suddenly envied them. But when he talked to Mary Stuart about it on Thursday afternoon, she told him he was being foolish. They had done the right thing for them, and he knew that. She reminded him of how much they had both been through, how much loss, how much pain, and how much wiser for them to proceed with caution. She didn't want to begin their relationship by feeling she had cheated on Bill, or left him for Hartley. She didn't want guilt trailing them for the rest of their lives, and Hartley smiled at her, relieved by what she was saying. For a short time, he had panicked.
“As long as there is a ‘rest of our lives,’ then I'm not worried.” Neither of them was completely sure of it, and there was still her trip to London to live through, but it certainly looked as though they were going to wind up together. And anyone watching them for any length of time would have put money on it, particularly Tanya and Zoe.
“I think I'm going to go crazy when I know you're in London,” Hartley said sheepishly. He was such a nice man, and he was so attractive. He had invited Mary Stuart to go to Seattle with him. He was talking to a library there that wanted to build a wing in his honor, and from there he was flying to Boston, to discuss a lecture he was going to give at Harvard. It was going to be an interesting life for her, if she joined him. He was anxious to have her read his work too, and he had given her pieces of the manuscript he was working on. It had been a great honor for her, and suddenly the prospect of finding a job no longer seemed as important. Hartley was going to keep her very busy.
But she declined his offer to travel with him when they left Wyoming. She wanted to go back to Los Angeles with Tanya, spend a day or two with her, and then fly on to London. She needed to get it over with, to clear her head. And she would meet him back in New York as soon as it was over. It would be better for both of them, she'd be free then. And she was more than willing to spend the rest of the summer with him at Fisher's Island. He wanted to give a dinner party for her, to introduce her to his friends, and let them know the good times had come again after nearly two years of solitude and silence. He was ready to come out of hiding.
“I'll call you the minute I've talked to him.” Mary Stuart smiled gently as they walked along. They had ridden that morning, but decided not to ride that afternoon. They wanted to be alone and do some hiking.
“Maybe we should arrange some kind of a signal.”
“Like what?” She tried to imagine what she would feel like in his shoes, and she sympathized although she thought he was unduly nervous about it. Her trip to London was nothing more than a courtesy, as far as she was concerned, especially after her last conversation with her husband. “What kind of signal do you have in mind?” she smiled gently.
“One if by land, two if by sea,” he laughed, and then frowned as he thought about it. And then finally he looked at her with worried eyes. “Just send me a fax with some kind of a message. And let me know when you're coming. I'll pick you up at the airport.”
“Stop worrying,” she said, and kissed him, as they walked slowly back toward the ranch, holding hands, just as Gordon and Tanya galloped back from Shadow Mountain. They had been surveying the damage after the fire, and it was fairly extensive. They were talking about it on the way down, when Tanya noticed a man on foot coming out of a clearing. He looked like sort of a wild mountain man, he was wearing torn clothes and had long hair, and in spite of the rubble and the charred wood everywhere, he was barefoot. He stood watching them for a little while, and then he disappeared into the tree line.