Remember When (Foster Saga 1)

Diana’s father, however, was less philosophical about such things as having his daughters lost overnight in Yellowstone National Park because Corey wanted to photograph a sunrise with elk in the shot. He was not pleased to discover from the newspaper that his daughters had been rescued from a construction elevator on the thirtieth floor of an unfinished high-rise that was surrounded by an eight-foot fence and posted “Absolutely No Admittance.”

“While you’re getting dressed,” Diana said as she turned and started toward the back stairs that led down to the kitchen, “I’ll go downstairs and see what kind of food I can find to bring for Cole.”

“For who?” Corey said, her mind fixated on the unexpected thrill of seeing Spence.

“Cole Harrison. You know—at the Haywards’ stable. Doug said Cole’s back from his vacation,” she explained with a smile and a breathless catch in her voice. “Unless something’s changed, he’ll be short of food, as usual.”

Corey watched her walk away, immobilized by the unmistakable undercurrent of excitement she’d just witnessed in Diana. Not once had Diana ever said anything to indicate she had secret feelings for the Haywards’ stable hand, but then Diana didn’t blurt out every thought that came into her mind the way Corey did.

Once the idea of Diana and Cole had taken root, Corey couldn’t seem to shake it loose. In the shower, as she worked shampoo into a thick lather, she tried to envision Diana and Cole as a twosome, but it was just too ludicrous.

Diana was sweet and pretty and popular, and she had her choice among the wealthy guys from backgrounds like her own—guys like Spencer Addison, who never made social blunders and who were sophisticated and well-traveled by the time they were seventeen or eighteen. They grew up in country clubs, where they played golf and tennis, and wore custom-made tuxedos to formal dinners by the time they were sixteen.

Wrapped in a towel, Corey pulled a brush through her long, blond hair, still trying to understand how Diana could possibly prefer someone like Cole, who had none of Spence’s polish or charisma. Spence looked like heaven in a navy blue sport jacket and khaki slacks, or tennis whites, or a white dinner jacket. Whatever he did or whatever he wore, Spencer Addison looked as if he was “born to the blue,” as Gram often said of wealthy Houston youths. With his sun-streaked, tawny hair, smiling amber eyes, and refined good looks, Spence was handsome, polished, and warm.

Cole was Spence’s opposite in every way. His hair was black, his face was tanned, his features were rugged, and his eyes were the cool, unsettling gray of a stormy sky. Corey’d never seen him in anything except faded jeans and a T-shirt or sweatshirt, and she couldn’t even imagine him playing tennis with Diana at the club in tennis whites or dancing with her in a tuxedo.

She’d heard the saying that “opposites attract,” but in this case the differences were too extreme. It was almost impossible to believe that practical, sweet, fastidious Diana would actually be attracted to all that raw sex appeal and macho ruggedness. He wasn’t even very friendly to anyone! He did have a great physique, but Diana was so petite and dainty that he’d tower over her if they went anywhere together.

To the best of Corey’s knowledge, Diana had never had a real crush on anyone, not even on Matt Dillon or Richard Gere. It seemed impossible to believe she’d go and get a crush on a guy like Cole, who didn’t seem to care what he wore or where he slept. Not that there was anything wrong with how he lived or dressed; it was just that it seemed so wrong for someone like Diana.

Corey paused, a pair of tan riding breeches in her hand, when she remembered that Barb Hayward and the other girls didn’t share Corey’s indifference to Cole, either. In fact, he was the object of a great many secret fantasies and a whole lot of speculation. Barb Hayward thought Cole made all the other guys they knew look like wimps in comparison. Haley Vincennes thought he was “sexy.”

Corey was so bewildered that for a moment she had forgotten she was going to see Spence tonight. When she remembered, she felt the same sharp stab of longing and delight that she’d experienced the first time she had set eyes on him and every time since.

Chapter 6

COREY WAS TOO EXCITED TO eat more than a few bites of her dinner, and when her grandmother remarked on it, the conversation at the large oak kitchen table came to a halt and everyone except Diana turned to her with concern. “You’ve hardly touched your dinner, Corey. Is anything wrong, dear?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just not very hungry,” she said.

“Are you in a hurry?” her mother asked.

“Why do you think that?” she asked innocently.

“Because you keep looking at your watch,” Grandpa observed.

“Oh, that’s because Diana and I are going over to the Haywards’ to ride tonight,” Corey said, feeling harassed by all this scrutiny. “Doug has a new polo pony, and we’re going to watch him work in the ring. Mr. Hayward had big lights put up so the ring can be used at night, when it’s cooler.”

“A new polo pony!” her father exclaimed with a knowing smile at her perfect hair and carefully applied makeup. “I guess you’re hoping to make a good impression on him when you see him for the first time.”

To satisfy everyone, Corey had taken a large bite of chicken. Now she swallowed it and looked at her father with a puzzled smile. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, because your hair looks like you spent the day at the beauty shop, and you’re wearing lipstick and that pink powdery stuff on your cheeks, and is that—” Suppressing a laugh, he peered at her eyelids. “Is that mascara I see on your lashes?”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with getting dressed up for a family dinner now and then, do you?”

“Certainly not,” he agreed at once. Pretending to address his remarks to his wife, he said, “I had lunch at the club today, and I ran into Spence’s grandmother. She was playing bridge in the ladies’ card room.”

“How is Mrs. Bradley?” Diana asked hastily. Spence had lived with his grandmother since he was a little boy, and Diana had a feeling she knew what her father was getting at. Trying to spare Corey the inevitable teasing, she added, “I haven’t seen her in months.”

“Mrs. Bradley is very well. In fact, she was in remarkably high spirits today. The reason she was in such—”

“She has so much energy for someone her age, doesn’t she, Mom?” Diana asked.

Diana had rushed in, but her father wasn’t going to be deterred. “—high spirits was because Spence surprised her by coming home for the weekend to celebrate her birthday with her.”

“He’s such a nice young man,” Gram said. “So charming and thoughtful.”

“And so fond of polo, too,” Grandpa provided with a meaningful smile aimed straight at Corey. “And such a good friend of the Haywards, isn’t he?” Four faces gazed at Corey with identical expressions of knowing amusement. Only Diana abstained.

“The problem with this family is that everybody pays too much attention to what everybody else is doing and thinking.”

“You’re right, dear,” Gram said, giving Corey’s shoulder an affectionate pat as she got up to help Glenna clear away the dinner dishes. “It’s not good to eat on a nervous stomach. Why don’t you run upstairs and fix your lipstick so it looks as nice as it did when you came down to dinner.”

Relieved, Corey slid out of her chair and carried her plate over to the sink; then she headed upstairs. Over her shoulder, she said to Diana, “Let’s leave in fifteen minutes.”

Diana nodded, but her thoughts were on Cole. “Gram,” she said, “can I take that leftover chicken to the Haywards’?”

Her grandmother said yes immediately, but at the table, her mother, father, and grandfather exchanged startled looks. “Diana,” her father said, sounding baffled, “What would the Haywards do with our leftover chicken?”

“Oh, it’s not for them,” Diana said as she opened the refrigerator and took out several apples and oranges. “It’s for Cole.”

“Coal??

? He repeated, nonplussed. “As in the black rock we used for fuel in the old days?”

Diana laughed. “No, Cole as in your friend Cole Martins,” Diana explained, referring to a wealthy rancher friend of her father’s. She opened the pantry doors, surveying the contents as she continued, “This Cole works at the Haywards’ stable and lives there, too, but he’s thin, and I don’t think he wants to ‘waste’ what little money he has on food.”

“Poor old feller,” Grandpa said, filled with misplaced sympathy for the plight of the elderly.

“He’s not old,” Diana said absently as she eyed the rows of home-canned fruits and vegetables on the shelves. “He doesn’t like to talk much about himself, but I know he is in college, and he’s had to work to put himself through school.” Diana glanced over her shoulder at her grandmother, who was already piling broiled chicken breasts and steamed vegetables into a large plastic container. “Gram, could I take some of your canned peaches and a few of these jams, too?”

“Yes, of course you can.” Mrs. Britton wiped her hands on a towel and walked into the pantry to assist Diana. She got down a paper bag and put three jars of each item into it.

“The last time I brought Cole some of your strawberry preserves,” Diana added, “he said it was better than candy, and he’s crazy about candy.”

Aglow at this praise from a hungry stranger, Mrs. Britton promptly added four more jars of strawberry preserves to the bag, then headed for an antique blue transfer ware china platter on the kitchen countertop. “If he likes sweets, he should have some of these blueberry muffins. There’s no sugar and hardly any fat in them, so they’re very healthy.” She piled a half dozen of them on a plate. “Oh, and he really ought to have some of those hazelnut brownies I made yesterday.”

When she reached for a second paper bag and headed back into the pantry, Diana stopped her. “I don’t want him to think this is charity, Gram.” With an apologetic grin, she added, “I have him completely convinced that you’re sort of a ‘compulsive canning addict’ and that we always have piles of leftovers after every meal.”

Grandpa had gotten up to refill his coffee cup, and he chuckled at Diana’s fabrication. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he said, “He must think we’re either addled or wasteful.”

“I’m sure he thinks both,” Diana admitted, blissfully unaware that her parents were eyeing her with barely concealed fascination. “I figured it was better to let him think that than to let him feel like a charity case,” she explained with a smile as she picked up the heavy brown paper bag and wrapped both her arms around it.

“I haven’t heard a word about this young man before tonight,” her father said flatly. “What’s he like?”