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"When we move far, far away from here," she'd say, and Peter would counter with all the wishes in his child's heart.
When we move far, far away, I'm gonna live in a little house with a big yard instead of a big house on top of a hill. And 1'm gonna have a puppy and a horse and a kitten.
All right. Maybe there wouldn't be a little house with a big yard. Maybe there wouldn't be a puppy and a horse and a kitten. But she and Peter would have each other. They'd live someplace where they'd just be a woman and a little boy, not that Davenport woman and the kid she'd used to get Ted Cameron's ring on her finger.
Except, how was she going to do that? She couldn't take off on a bus with a little boy and no destination, no money and no job. Job? Faith choked back something that was half sob, half laugh. You had to have skills to get a job and she had none, unless bandaging scraped knees counted as a talent.
Growing up, she'd picked peaches and beans and whatever crops were in season. At fifteen, she'd put on an apron and waitressed at the counter in the five-and-dime. She could do those things again, she wasn't afraid of hard work, but no matter what kind of job she got, what would she do about Peter? Who would take care of him? Summer was here. School was out, he'd be home and she'd sooner die than leave him on his own, here or anywhere.
The light ahead changed to red. Faith stepped too hard on the brake and the car jerked to a stop. She wanted to scream, to sob, to pound her fist against the steering wheel but that wouldn't change anything. Minutes ago, she'd been worried about how to tell Peter that the game of "When we move away from here" was ended. Now, she faced the realization that the game was the least of her problems.
"Reality time," Faith whispered, and pulled into the driveway that led to Cameron House-to Cole's house. She hit the button that opened the garage door and she pulled into the
darkness, shut off the engine and let the door come down behind her.
A bone-deep weariness made her fold her arms over the steering wheel and lay her cheek against them. She didn't have time for self-pity. There had to be a way to get through this, even if it meant phoning Sam Jergen and asking him to convince Cole to let her stay on here for another week or two, just until she got things together.
Faith sat up straight, wiped her eyes and headed into the house. "Peter?" she called. There was no answer. All she could hear was the low hum of the air conditioner. "Peter? Where are you, honey?"
A note was tucked under a magnet on the refrigerator door. It was from Alice, the housekeeper. Alice despised her but she loved Peter. She'd taken him with her to the market.
Faith let out a breath. Good. She'd have time to get hold of herself and go back to town and pick up the burger and fries she'd promised to buy. She did some quick calculating, amazed at what a dent four dollars and change would put into her budget, but she wasn't going to turn her son's life inside out if she could help it.
First, though, she'd get out of this straitjacket of a suit.
She went up the stairs to her bedroom, moving as slowly as if she'd aged a hundred years in the past couple of hours. The room was warm and she started to turn the thermostat down, thought of the possible cost of those few degrees and decided she could endure the heat.
Faith unzipped her skirt and tossed it on a chair. Her jacket followed. She reached for the top button on her blouse but it was already...
Cole had opened it.
An image flashed through her mind. She saw herself lying on the sofa in the law office, coming back to consciousness in his arms. For one breathless instant, time had seemed to run backward. She'd looked into his eyes and remembered awakening the same way the night they'd made love down by the lake, except then he'd smiled when she looked at him,
whispered her name, taken her mouth in a hot, drugging kiss that had turned her boneless with desire...
What a fool she was!
Why was she giving in so easily? He'd always gotten what be wanted from her. Her innocence. Her love. Now, he was going to take this house but she belonged here more than he did. Cameron House had been her home for nine years. Cole hadn't been back in all that time. He'd left Liberty and never looked back, not at his brother, not at his father, not at her.
He wanted the house? Well, let him try and get it. So what if Ted had willed it to him? She was here and possession was nine-tenths of the law. She'd find a lawyer who'd be pleased to represent her, not somebody who'd bow down to a Cameron. What judge would force a woman and her child onto the streets?
Faith smiled. She could almost feel the load lifting from her heart.
Quickly, she flung off the rest of her clothes, shook out her hair and went into the bathroom. A cool shower would make her feel human again. She turned the spray to high and stepped under the water, letting it cascade over her face and body as if the force of it could wash away every last remnant of the awful morning.
