Taming the Legend (14 page)

Chapter Thirteen

A week after Ash arrived in California, his body finally finished adjusting to the time difference. He managed to stay awake until a decent hour—10 p.m.—and was sound asleep when the shrill ring of his mobile made him jerk awake. He stared at it in disbelief for two rings until the sleep cleared from his brain and he saw the call was from his mum. His hand shot
out and jabbed at the screen to answer the call. “Mum? You okay?”

Her breath sounded fast and heavy.

He gripped the mobile tighter and sat up straighter. “Mum? Talk to me. Is it Dad?”

“I hate him,” she seethed. “I hate him so much right now. Oh,
Ashley.
Oh, that poor girl. That poor… Camilla?”

“Camila,” he corrected, making the
mi
in her name sound like
me.
“Don’t hate Dad.
Please. He needs you.”

“He needs a smack in the face! I can’t believe…after all these years… I just want to give you a hug, Ashley. I wish you were here.”

He sank back into his pillow and jammed his hand into his hair, tugging it hard as he squeezed his eyes closed. “Mum, I know this is difficult news. I thought you needed to hear it from Dad, but now… I don’t know, maybe that was the
wrong thing.”

She was quiet for a long time, long enough for him to grab his bed’s extra pillow and clutch it to his chest. Then she sighed. “I guess it was better that he told me. I knew something was wrong all week, and he finally broke down and told me. I can tell he’s really cut up about it, which is the only thing keeping me from walking out right now.”

He knew his mum would never
walk out, especially since his dad depended on her so much. But it probably made her feel better to pretend she had options, even if they weren’t options she would ever consider taking.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” she whispered. “So sorry he did that to you. And to her. Please tell her—from one mother to another—that I have some inkling of what she must’ve gone through, and I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Will you do it now? In fact, can you take your mobile and let me speak to her?”

“I would, Mum, but it’s five in the morning. I don’t think she’d appreciate it.”

His mum gasped. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t even look at the time. Go back to sleep.”

He grimaced. Like that would be possible. “Will do. And try not to be too hard on Dad. I’m working on forgiving
him, and I hope you will too.”

His mum’s snort echoed in his ear. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best. I’ve got to go now. He’s trying to wash our lunch dishes.”

Ash’s brows shot up. “Jesus. He
must
be feeling guilty. Long may it continue.”

Crash!

His mum sighed. “I hope that wasn’t one of my Wedgwood plates. And don’t worry about us. If I don’t forgive him, we’ll
have to start eating off paper plates.”

“I’ll try not to worry, Mum. But phone me if you ever need to. No matter what time it is.”

“I will, love. Sleep tight.”

But Ash didn’t sleep tight—or loose or any other way. He lay there with worries feasting on his brain until he finally heard the first
cheep!
of daybreak. He rolled out of bed, hydrated himself and tugged on his running gear.
He planned to spend the morning searching for any girls’ rugby teams in the area and ask if they wanted to set up some friendly matches, but first he needed to get his head on straight. A run was the best way to do that.

He ran around the lodge and found the path down to the lake. Stepping carefully to avoid slipping on the dead pine needles littering the dirt, he made his way down the path.
He hit the beach and turned toward the sunrise, but he hadn’t even broken a sweat before he rounded a corner and saw Camila sitting on the dock staring at something in her lap. A book, he thought, though he couldn’t tell for sure. He slowed down and called out her name so he wouldn’t startle her.

She glanced up and gave him a tentative smile. “Morning.”

“Morning.” He slowed his pace
and stepped onto the dock. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

She hesitated just enough to make her lie obvious when she said, “Nope. Come sit with me.”

The peace between them felt fragile but, like most fragile things, worth the effort it would take to preserve it. He walked to the end, where she sat cross-legged in her gray sweatsuit bottoms and navy hoodie. He’d never seen her look so
comfortable or so cute. “Nice outfit.”

“What, this old thing?” She batted her eyelashes playfully. “I like to come here, watch the sun rise and bask in the peace before everyone else wakes up. It makes my whole day a thousand times better.”

He knew that. He’d seen her here every morning. He nodded toward the book in her hands. “And you catch up on your reading?”

“This is my journal.”
She closed it and laid it next to her. It was tattered at the corners and bulged with photographs and slips of paper that looked like nice stationery. He itched to open it and peek inside her mind and heart.

“Looks like you write a lot.”

“Every morning since I was seventeen.”

His brows shot up. “You must’ve filled a hell of a lot of journals.”

“Yeah, I have. Every morning I
purge crap from my brain. It helps me find peace.”

Sadness washed over him. “Are your days usually that tough?”

“No, I don’t mean to imply that. I love it here and I love my work, but it can be a lot to keep on top of, running a facility like this. I’m not a therapist, but I still hear a lot about people’s troubles and that can be tough to deal with if I don’t have a way of getting it
out. And then there are all the practicalities. I have to make sure we’re providing a place where people can heal from their emotional traumas while also trying to dig the camp out of debt. It’s a monumental task.”

He leaned back on his elbows so he could pretend he was gazing out at the lake while really watching her. “So you have to be the touchy-feely type and the numbers nerd?”

One side of her mouth twitched. “I’ve never heard it presented like that, but yeah. I’ve always enjoyed using both sides of my brain, though, so it’s ideal for me.”

“Must be frustrating to inherit something like this and have to work your arse off to save it.”

She was quiet a moment and picked at a piece of lint on her leg. “I was so annoyed with my dad when I found out how much he owed.
So freaking annoyed. I couldn’t believe he’d let it get that bad. He got the loan from the last local bank in town, and he’d been good buddies with one of the bank managers, so it was never a problem during his lifetime. But that guy retired a few months ago, and I got a letter threatening foreclosure.” She gestured to the other side of the lake. The camp was set on a private beach, and the houses
peeking through the pines on the other side looked exclusive and luxurious. Certainly not the basic cabins he would imagine in a mountain town. “Do you know how much those houses sell for? Millions. This camp sits on property that any developer would kill for and any banker would kill to foreclose on.”

“And you’ll kill to stop them?” he teased, and her lips quirked up.

“Not quite. But
apparently I’d face old demons for it.”

“I’m not sure I like being called old.”

She laughed, her head back and her amusement shaking the dock beneath him. When she turned to face him, her grin jolted him like a million watts of electricity. “But
demon’s
okay?”

“I’ve been called a hell of a lot worse, but usually by men trying to get under my skin.” Camila didn’t have to try to get
under it; she’d burrowed inside so long ago he’d never been able to evict her. “The camp’s heaving with kids now, but how do you make money when they’re in school?”

“From September through May, we’re hired mostly by church groups, therapists or artists. We host marriage retreats, premarital counseling sessions, writers’ retreats… Those are our bread and butter, but there are some nonprofits
Dad always gave a big discount to, and I just can’t bring myself to start charging them full price. One’s a charity that organizes retreats for soldiers who are struggling to adjust after serving abroad. Another charity brings inner-city kids for a week of outdoor adventures. But the summer sports camp is my favorite. I’ve met so many teenagers who are having problems at school and watched them
build self-esteem and teamwork skills. It’s humbling and awe-inspiring to see how different most of them are when they leave.”

“So these kids are bullied at school?”

“Some. Some are the bullies. Some are loners, others are the leaders of the pack. We’re not one of those scared-straight camps or anything. The kids who come here have probably experimented with drugs but aren’t addicted
yet. They might’ve had some fights at school but haven’t been charged with assault. We try to get them before they’ve gone too far down the road of destruction.”

A shadow passed over her, and she wouldn’t meet his gaze. There was more here than she was saying, but he couldn’t figure out what questions would get him the answers he needed. So he struck out in the dark. “When we were in Barcelona,
you said you spent summers in L.A. with your dad. I never pictured you in the mountains.”

“Oh, he didn’t move up here till I was in college. Before that, he lived in Highland Park and ran a charity that got gang members and ex-cons to do voluntary work in the community.” She must’ve caught his shock because she smiled. “Yeah, he was tough as shit. Be thankful he couldn’t afford the flight
to England when he found out I was pregnant. He was ready to gather a team of his own to pay you a visit.”

“Fuck.”

“That pretty much describes what they would’ve done to you. Let’s just say none of us showed our best side in that period, except Gabriel. He was my rock. My mom fell to pieces, though, and my dad who’d marched against violence made threats against you that I’m pretty sure
are anatomically impossible.”

And didn’t that just make him feel fantastic? “Speaking of family, I talked to my mum this morning. She said to tell you how sorry she was, from one mother to another.”

Camila was silent for a long time before she murmured, “Please thank her for that.”

They sat next to each other as the sun slowly rose and the morning got brighter. Ash figured she would
have to go soon, but he hoped she wouldn’t.

Still, he was surprised when she admitted, “I know how these kids feel, Ash. Lost and angry and searching for meaning. I know what it’s like to make a big mistake and think you’ll pay for it forever. I had a hard time at school. I had a bit of a reputation—partly deserved and partly not. But I knew it would’ve gotten unlivable if people found out
I was pregnant, so my mom, Gabriel and I moved in with my dad when I was about three months pregnant.”

“What do you mean, a partly deserved reputation?”

She raised a brow at him. “You know what I mean.”

“No. I honestly don’t.”

“Come on. I wasn’t exactly a virgin when we met.”

“And your reputation was for not being a virgin?”

“I was labeled as a pretty safe bet for
any guy who wanted to get laid but didn’t want to put the effort in to a girlfriend. That part wasn’t deserved. I’d actually only had full sex with three guys before you.”

He narrowed one eye, watching her closely. She sat with her knees hugged tightly to her chest. The hunch of her shoulders couldn’t hide how tense they were. She was aching inside. “Camila. Look at me.”

She turned her
head just enough to maybe,
maybe
see him out of the corner of her eye.

“Having sex does not mean you deserve a reputation. I don’t care how many blokes you slept with. That’s your business and no one else’s. Not mine, not any of the kids at your school, not your parents, not anyone.”

Her jaw worked as she swallowed. “My therapist said something similar. When I was a teenager, I mean.
Took me a long time to believe her, and it’s kinda depressing to hear myself fall into the same pit I thought I’d dug my way out of.”

“We all do that. Sometimes you just need someone standing at the edge willing to toss you a shovel.”

“Wow. That would make a great greeting card.”

“Well, I
am
in the market for a new career.”

She grinned and turned her focus back to the lake,
but he couldn’t help asking her more while she was in a chatty mood. “You went back to Montana after the baby was born?”

“Yeah. For my last year of high school.”

“And no one knew?”

“No one but my family—my parents, obviously. Gabriel. My two half brothers. I was worried they might say something, but they never did. Actually, I should thank you for that. They’d always resented me
and Gabriel, but once I told them I was pregnant, the three of them became united in despising you and going all macho-protective over me.”

“Ah. Well. You’re welcome.”

“Even today, when they need to take a shit they say they’re going for an Ash Trenton.”

Ash gagged. “Sweet Jesus. Please don’t tell anyone else that. You’ve no idea how my teammates would love to hear it.”

“I’ll
keep that mind. Good insurance policy for me.”

He shook his head in disbelief, trying to shake the horrifying phrase loose. “So what made you move back here? The memories couldn’t have been pleasant.”

She was quiet for a long time—so long he almost gave up on getting an answer. But then she said softly, “I got into some trouble in Marietta.”

“More trouble than being sixteen and
pregnant?” Fuck. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this.

“Yeah. But it’s not important. My dad knew the guy who owned this camp, and next thing I knew, here I was. Worst and best summer of my life. It wasn’t a sports camp then, but we did lots of hiking and swimming. Lots of talking around the campfire. It helped.”

Pieces of her puzzle fell into place with a plop. “You were here as a…what
do you call them? Patient?”

She glared at him. “Camper. They’re campers. They have counseling sessions twice a week, and the activities are geared toward building their self-esteem and ability to work with others, but we don’t put labels like
patient
on them. And yes, I was a camper here. That’s when I started journaling, and it’s when I started seeing I could change my life around.”