Judith McNaught - Remember When

"The elk?" Cole ventured, while passing the plate of biscuits to Diana's grandfather.

"No, the bear. He was quite young, several inches shorter than I, which I didn't realize because he was running on all fours. I thought he was charging me, and I jumped to my hands and knees, but before I could stand up, he was there. I screamed, he stopped, and we stared at each other, eyeball to eyeball, both of us startled and frightened. He came up on his hind legs and I sprang to my feet and threw my marshmallows at him; then I ran as fast as I could in one direction, while he fled in the other.

"To top everything off," she said, laughing, "when we started back, we realized we were lost, and the further we walked, the more lost we became.

Diana kept insisting that her books on camping safety said we should stay put, but I wouldn't listen, until she finally pretended she couldn't walk any further on her ankle. At nightfall, she used the matches in her emergency kit to build a little fire to help the searchers find us.

"I'd forgotten to change the battery in my flashlight, and it gave out before I heard what I thought were wolves howling. Diana wouldn't let me use her flashlight, even though it had a fresh battery. She said we needed it to signal search planes if any flew close, and I knew she was right. Instead, I built a bigger fire for more light, but every time I heard that howling sound, I got closer to hysteria," Corey admitted and took a sip of iced tea. "I was shivering so hard I could hardly talk, and I had to keep my face turned away so Diana wouldn't see the tears running down my face. I felt like such a fool, particularly because I'd teased Diana about being afraid of snakes and picking a bouquet of poison ivy and lugging that emergency kit with us everywhere—and there I was, crying like a baby while she calmly took care of all the practical matters of survival. I'd ignored all the camping manuals, but Diana had read them from cover to cover, which was why she was able to make me laugh about the threat of wolves. Finally we went to sleep by the fire. Even after we were rescued the next morning, she never teased me about being so stupid. In fact, we never discussed those imaginary wolves again, until now."

When Corey showed no indication of explaining her last sentence, Cole said, "Imaginary wolves? I don't understand."

"Obviously," Corey informed him, "you haven't read the Yellowstone Camping Manual either." She smiled infectiously. "You see, there weren't any wolves in that part of Yellowstone back then. The park service had corralled them in a distant part of the park, far from the campers. Those were the ones we were hearing."

Cole thought that seemed virtually impossible, as well as counter to the wildlife philosophy of the national parks. "Do you mean that the park authorities rounded up all the wolves in that gigantic parkland and then put them behind fences?" He looked at Diana for an answer, but she seemed to be engrossed with tracing the pattern on the handle of her knife with her forefinger.

"No, of course not!" Corey explained. "The wildlife commission realized that the wolf population was out of control in Yellowstone because the wolf's natural predator, the Rocky Mountain black ocelot, was almost extinct there, so they imported them from California. The ocelots hunted the wolves and ran them deep into the mountains."

Diana could feel Cole's gaze leveled on her, and when she couldn't avoid it any longer, she finally lifted her eyes from her silverware and saw the knowing amusement in his expression. "Very tidy explanation," he said dryly.

"I thought so," Diana said, swallowing a giggle.

Corey looked from one to the other of them, her own thoughts on the long-ago explanation she'd accepted without question at the time. Now that she'd repeated it aloud, it sounded very odd. "Diana—" she said suspiciously. "It was a total lie, wasn't it?"

"It was a whopper!" Henry Britton hooted. "Surprised you bought it, Corey girl."

Privately, Cole thought Diana's solution had been ingenious, but as a new and temporary family member, he didn't feel entitled to voice a dissenting opinion. Instead, he concluded, "So you spent a terrifying night alone and never got to enter the photography contest, after all?"

"On the contrary, I won second place in the Candid Series division," Corey informed him with a grin.

"Congratulations," Cole said.

"Don't congratulate me," she countered wryly. "I didn't take them, I was in them."

"Who took them?"

"Diana did. When I saw the bear and tried to scramble up on my hands and knees, she thought I'd seen the elk and was trying to stay out of the frame, so she pressed the shutter release as I'd told her to do, and the automatic camera started shooting in rapid sequence. After we got back, I tossed the roll of film out, but Diana retrieved it for laughs. When it was developed, she selected three shots—as required by the contest—and sent them in."

"Yes," Mary Foster said with a reminiscent smile, "and National Photographic magazine even used the captions Diana had sent in when they featured the pictures."

"What were your captions?" Cole asked.

"The first picture was when the bear and I first met, nose to nose. Both of us were crouched on all fours, staring at each other, startled and scared." Corey laughed. "Under that one, Diana had written 'On your mark —' The second picture was of the bear and me rearing up on our feet, ready to run. Beneath that, Diana had written 'Get set—' The last picture was the funniest of all, because we were both fleeing for our lives in opposite directions. Diana called that one 'Go!'"

Diana and Corey had set the tone with their camping story, and by the time dessert was over, each person at the table had become the subject of an amusing and sometimes revealing anecdote, including Spencer Addison. And somewhere, midway through the meal, Cole began to be treated as a welcome audience, rather than a mistrusted intruder.

The last tale concerned Rose Britton's irate response to a fan on Oprah Winfrey's show who gushed about how much she'd like to be married to Henry. At the end of the good-natured laughter that followed the recounting, Mary Foster looked at Cole with a smile. "I'm afraid you're discovering all our dark family secrets," she told him.

"They're safe with me," Cole assured her with an answering smile, but privately he found a certain grim amusement in the comparison of this family's "dark secrets" to those of his own. Nevertheless, he was grateful and surprised that the meal had gone off so smoothly, that no more prying questions were directed at him, and that everyone seemed to have accepted him for the time being as a new family friend.

Everyone except Addison.

Addison wasn't neutral. Every instinct Cole possessed warned him that Addison was solidly opposed to Diana's marriage. Not that he made it obvious. Addison was much too well-bred to disturb his wife's family with any sort of unpleasant coldness at their table. In Cole's experience, men like Addison invariably sided with their own kind, no matter how stupid or shortsighted or evil their socially prominent friends might be. By virtue of birth and upbringing, Addison was already a natural foe of Cole's in any situation that pitted Cole against another member of "the privileged class," and Cole knew it. He understood it. In business, Cole always made it a practice to force adversaries like Addison out into the open, where they couldn't hide their feelings and intentions beneath the nearly impenetrable layers of social custom and ritual. Cole did that because it made them feel awkward, exposed, and uncomfortable, which made any contest of wits more equal.

In this case, Cole saw no reason to force Addison from his position of passive opposition into one of open enmity. Diana had already married him, and for some reason, Cole knew she would not back out of the agreement she'd made with him.