Private affairs : a novel (85 page)

Matt heard applause and someone beginning another toast, but he didn't hear the words. He was walking toward Elizabeth. He couldn't remember deciding to do that, but he was halfway to her when he realized it. Peter saw him and nudged Holly. He said something to Elizabeth. And when she whirled about, Matt saw the light in her gray eyes and that was all he saw.

She moved into his arms and held him and opened her mouth beneath his. Their bodies met, fitting together as easily as if they had never been apart. "I love you," Matt said, his lips against hers. "Elizabeth, I love you. I don't know what happened to me, how I could have—"

"Matt," she said. "Don't talk. Not yet. I haven't kissed you enough."

He laughed, and the laughter stayed inside him as they kissed again. He held her slender body in his arms, loving her, learning again the feel of her, the long line of her back, the silk of her hair, the curve of her breast.

"My love," Elizabeth murmured. "I need to take a breath."

They smiled at each other. "I want to know what's going on with this crowd," Matt said. "But I don't want to talk; I just want to look at you and hold you."

She put her hand against his face. "It can wait a few minutes."

Matt saw Peter and Holly watching them. Wait, he mouthed, and they smiled, first at him and then at each other. He and Elizabeth walked among the trees; hearing voices and laughter though the clearing was no longer visible. "I guess I want to say a few things after all," he said. "You should know ... I may not be a good risk. I failed with Rourke and I haven't decided what I want to do next—"

"You'll go to bed with your wife."

He grinned. "As soon as possible."

"And then we'll talk about tomorrow."

"No, some things I want to say now. Do you mind? I did so much thinking in Europe; I want you to know how I got here. I sat in the Piazza Navona and thought of Genghis Gold, and you, and then realized I'd spent that whole day going to every street and piazza and cafe you

Private Affairs ?}5

described in your stones. So I knew I wanted to share Rome with you. and Europe, and all of America . . . and the rest of my Life."

She was looking at him and he stopped walking to hold her again. "I've u. Even when I was blind to it. I was missing you."

"I wish I'd known that." she said somberly.

Matt waited for her : .?out Tony, but she said nothing

more. He'd never know about Tony, for sure, he reflected: but he knew that Elizabeth would never ask about Nicole. They were beginning again, on equal terms, and that was enough.

"I do have some ideas about what I might do next." he - they

walked on. "I want to talk them over with you."

She smiled. "I like that. But. Matt. I don't think they should include the Chieftain Saul still wants to buy it. and so does Heather, and I thought, if you don't mind—"

"We'll give it to them." he said.

She looked quickly at him. her eyes bright. "You've been thinking about it."

"That was one of my thoughts in Rome. Saul made the paper his long ■go; I couldn't imagine taking it away from him. The Skill either. Do you remember when he predicted he'd be publisher in a km > ea:>2 I like the idea of making it come true." He fell silent as they walked. "Another thought I had m Rome was that we might get some backers and start a

-izine."

She stopped. "I didn't know you ever thought about magazines. What kind?"

"Regional, probably: the southwest is what I know best. Mainly people: the kind of thing you do best. Could I interest you m being half a pub-Usher and editor-in-chief? .And frequent contributor?"

"Yea

"Can it be so simple?" he murmured. "For years everything has seemed so complicated."

"It will only get complicated if we have to start by mortgaging the house agam—"

"No, we won't have any trouble. Mitch Laidlaw was the one who suggested it to me: he'll bring in others. In fact, there might be enough to go national. If we did that, as soon as enough advertising came in. we could start regional spinoffs—smaller, more involved with their communities, using local writers. . . ."

Elizabeth began to laugh and after a pause Matt laughed with her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to 20 running after another brass ring before we'd even settled down from the last one."

"No, don't be sorry," she said quickly. "You made it sound wonderful. I'd like to go after it with you. If we can do it together—"

"I promise you, that's the only way we'll do it. And whatever peaks there are, we'll conquer them together." He took her in his arms again. "Back where we started: living in Santa Fe, in love, working together ... Or did you want something more exciting? Do you want to live somewhere else? New York? Paris? London?"

She smiled. "I want you. Anywhere."

Their lips met. After a long moment, Matt said, "Shall I take you deeper into the forest? Better yet, can we go home? Would anyone mind if we leave?" His head came up. "Elizabeth, do I hear a bell, or is it in my head?"

"You really hear it. Let's join the others, Matt. They're going to dedicate the town."

"Is this the site? The land Rourke gave them?"

"Yes. Thanks to you—"

"To you first, for your story, and then to Mitch Laidlaw—"

"I wrote you a note, thanking you for your story, but it came back . . . Oh, Matt, we have so much catching up to do!"

"And only a lifetime to do it in. My God, there's the church."

They were back in the clearing, on the other side of the trailers and tents. Straight ahead, on a small rise, was the shell of the church, on its new foundation. The people stood in front of it in a half circle; Cesar was in the doorway, studying his shoes. He looked up, at the silent crowd. "I asked Isabel to make this speech but she said I should do it because I am the oldest here. So. This is the first day of May, a good time for a beginning. Nuevo is gone. But we have a new home where we stand, with the church at the center. And I name it now. Renacimiento Nuevo. Reborn Nuevo."

"Reborn," Elizabeth murmured. "I love you, Matt."

He put his arm around her and they were holding each other close when Peter and Maya joined them. Peter rested his forehead on his father's shoulder for just an instant; then he straightened and held out his hand. "Welcome home."

"We will make this town a home," said Cesar. "We will welcome those who are homeless because we were nearly homeless ourselves. We will make it a fine place to live, we will protect it and keep the wonderful feeling we have this minute because so many people cared about us and helped keep our town alive . . . and now it is the caring that we must keep alive." He stopped, then put out his hands. "I don't know what else to say."

Matt moved forward and began to clap. Peter followed, others took it up, and suddenly everyone was clapping and smiling and crowding up to Cesar to tell him it was a wonderful dedication. Matt and Elizabeth held back, their arms around each other again, sharing one more small mo= ment before becoming part of the crowd. And as they looked at each other, seeing in each other's eyes the wonder of rediscovering what they had almost lost, they heard the first notes of a song.

Softly, tentatively, the song began, and then grew stronger, the silver notes rising above the voices of the crowd. Everyone fell silent, listening, as the notes rose higher, pure and clear in the mountain air. We've come home, a thousand miles. Down the road, the winding road ... We've come home. The joyous song soared into the night, filled with love, and everyone in the clearing reached out to take a neighbor's hand.

And Holly sang.

H

Judith Barnard and Michael Fain— the two halves of "Judith Michael"—are husband and wife writing partners whose first two novels, Deceptions and Possessions, were best-sellers. Judith Barnard is also the author of the novel The Past and Present of Solomon Sorge and has been a journalist and literary critic. Michael Fain, a former aerospace scientist and science writer, is also a professional photographer.

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ABOUT THE AUTHORS Judith Barnard and Michael Fain—the two halves of "Judith Michael"—are husband and wife writing partners whose first two novels, Deceptions and Possessions, were best-sellers. Judith Barnard is also the author of the novel The Past and Present of Solomon Sorge, and has been a journalist and literary critic. Michael Fain, a former aerospace scientist and science writer, is also a professional photographer.

Jacket design by Paul Bacon Jacket photograph by Brian Hagiwara

Printed in U.S.A. Copyright E 1986 Simon & Schuster, Inc.