The Texan's Contract Marriage

Ten

The following night Marek sat in the box Camille had arranged. He was with the Avanoles. Her parents, her brother and both sisters were present. Marek thought he should have gone sooner to hear her sing. He had heard her sing scales and practice exercises, but nothing else.

When the conductor appeared and the orchestra commenced playing, Marek’s mind was on Camille and when he would be alone with her, something he didn’t expect to happen until this opera ended its last performance. And then Camille came onstage and his attention went to her. She had told him the story, which sounded sad and gloomy with death for her character at the end.

As she sang, Marek was mesmerized. He had heard her practice, but he had never been in the room with her. Now the full richness of her voice filled the opera house.

Chills ran down his spine. He knew nothing about opera. He had seen singers on television performing bits, but never a whole opera, never in person. Camille’s voice soared, filling the opera house with purest sound.

He was transfixed, steeped in the crystal sounds of her voice. She stopped and in minutes the music started again and then her golden voice with its astonishing range.

Her acting was lively and vivacious as he had expected, while her singing captured his heart. He would remember this night the rest of his life.

She was meant to sing. She had a true talent and his heart felt as if it were breaking into a million pieces. Even though he knew nothing about opera, there was no mistaking that she had incredible talent. This went beyond their two lives. This was a talent that should be shared.

All this time he had had no idea how gifted she was.

Press releases and media could be filled with exaggerated hype, fed by agents, luck, friendships and the views of the reporter. Her voice flew beyond all those things. No one could question her tone, range or ability.

In a moment of clarity, he saw he could never take her from the stage. Her voice was meant for the famous opera, meant for the world to hear.

She belonged to her talent and she needed to give herself to the public because her gift was awesome.

He stopped thinking and listened to her clear soprano as she sang. He hurt with an incredible pain. How could he have done this to himself again? He couldn’t ask her to compromise, so perhaps he was going to have to, in order for them to have a bearable marriage.

Music filled the room, like sunshine surrounding him, while at the same time he felt as if he were tumbling into the darkness of another lost love, of pain and separation because he loved her. She had captured his heart and he had enabled her to do so.

He wondered at the perverseness of humans as he shifted restlessly, because for the first time in his life, he had met a woman he couldn’t love on his own terms.

Dazed, hurting while at the same time spellbound by her singing, he sat through the opera, applauding, calling “Brava” with others and knowing she was lost to him. He could never try to win her away from the life she had been destined to live.

He went through the motions, talking to her family.

Camille had an opening night party for the cast. Families were invited. Backstage, he stood to one side to let others surround her to talk to her. She was radiant, smiling constantly, and she looked more gorgeous than ever.

His pain increased as he watched her and saw what he was losing. There was absolutely no possibility of his having more than a fraction of her life. He thought of the new ring he had bought for her, to give her as a token of his love for her. He loved her, but he would not take her from her career and he would not give her that ring.

Her family was staying with them, so he wasn’t alone with her until one in the morning when they finally closed the bedroom door. Her black hair was partially braided and fastened on her head. The remaining locks fell freely across her back. Her makeup was thick, dramatic, emphasizing her large, expressive eyes and full mouth, making her breathtakingly beautiful. She smiled in triumph at him.

“You have a fantastic voice,” he said, crossing the room to place his hands on her shoulders. “You belong onstage, Camille. I’ve become an opera fan.”

“I’m so glad. So happy,” she said, hugging him and standing on tiptoe to kiss him.

Desire consumed him. He needed her kisses, her love on this night. He knew he would lose her in the future, but tonight she was in his arms, radiant from performing and her success. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her hard, wanting to hold her, love her and make her want to stay in his arms forever. For a few hours, he would cling to a dream that had no substance, but would give him joy tonight.

Later, when she was stretched against him, she chatted and finally raised herself slightly on her elbow to look at him. “Why so quiet tonight?”

She met a dark, impenetrable gaze. “I hadn’t thought that much about your voice and your singing,” he answered finally. “You have a true and beautiful talent. Your voice is wonderful. You’ll be a star and it will take you far from here.”

“I’ll always be able to come home.”

“That’s right. But you’ll also always have to leave to go perform somewhere.”

“This shouldn’t interfere with you and it may actually give you more time with Noah. Besides, at this point it is sheer speculation. I have a long way to go to become that kind of star.”

“I have a feeling it will come much faster than you think.”

“I think you’re biased, but I hope you’re right. I’m overjoyed you liked the opera.”

*

Camille’s La Traviata performance had been a triumph and the time had flown. Now as she sat on a Rangel jet bound for Santa Fe, she glanced next to her at Marek, who was poring over Noah’s baby book.

Marek’s thick black lashes were dark shadows above his cheeks. A stray lock of hair curled on his forehead. He had withdrawn into a shell the past few days, and she had wondered what had triggered it. Was it something in his life or had it been the interference of her performance and the intense practice beforehand?

“What? You have the intense look of a cat ready to pounce on prey.”

“How’d you know that?” she asked.

“I can tell,” he answered casually, closing the baby book to hand it back to her. “Nice. You need a picture of Kern. I’ll get you one.”

“I’d like that.”

“Now, why the intense examination?” he repeated.

She could feel heat fill her cheeks. “You’ve changed and I was trying to figure why. You’re preoccupied.”

“Business,” he said. In the time she had known Marek, she had never seen him concerned about business problems or ranch problems. Jess bore the brunt of those. Marek had a shuttered look and she couldn’t glean anything from his expression.

“I don’t think that’s really the answer,” she said, letting it drop for now until they were alone. They were flying to Santa Fe to get a place to live and then she would leave Dallas. Was it the move that had him on edge?

She was amazed how fast and efficient Marek was when they arrived in Santa Fe and later when she went through the move. She had another opera performance to prepare for, and they agreed he would leave Noah with her in Santa Fe and he would return to the ranch until opening night.

When she told him goodbye at the airport in New Mexico, he held her tightly and kissed her until she was breathless, her heart racing, and she didn’t want him to stop.

He released her abruptly. “Better go,” he said gruffly, his gaze trailing over her features as if memorizing them. When he turned away to board the jet and she left to go back to a waiting limo Marek had arranged for her while she was in Santa Fe, she had a distinct feeling something was amiss.

*

Getting up before sunrise, working until dark at any physical labor he could find, Marek threw himself into work at the ranch. He hated being alone in the house, trying to keep books, because his mind would wander constantly to Camille. He missed her and he missed Noah. He talked to Camille each day and saw them on Skype and tried to keep a fragile contact, but she was busy getting ready to perform Pamina in The Magic Flute, and Noah couldn’t converse with him. When he saw them on Skype, he hurt badly, wanting her, loving her, but hating the separation. He missed Noah’s happy little face.

Instead of growing accustomed to being away from her, to seeing her on opening night and when the performance was over, he hurt more with Camille and Noah out of his life and getting only tiny glimpses and contacts with them.

The last week in August he had to be in Dallas for a Rangel Foundation meeting, and Ginny had asked him to lunch beforehand. He listened to her chatter about the girls and saw their latest pictures.

“I haven’t seen them for too long, Ginny. Bring them to the ranch this weekend so they can ride.”

“I will accept that invitation,” she said over a crisp green salad while Marek ate only a few bites of his onion burger. “You miss Camille, don’t you?”

“Camille and Noah. Yes,” he said, giving her a steady look. “Want to hear you were right?”

“No, I don’t. I don’t want you hurt, and you’ve lost weight and look like you haven’t slept for weeks. Maybe you should go see her more.”

Marek shook his head. “I’m in the way when she practices or has lessons. She’s busy when she’s getting ready to perform and when she’s performing.”

“I can imagine, but you can’t keep on like this.”

“I know, Ginny,” he said, looking away and she let the subject drop.

Through the meeting Marek thought about the future. He flew back to the ranch, the one haven in his life and now even the ranch seemed empty and hurtful.

That evening Jess appeared at the back door with a six-pack of cold beer. “Want company?”

Marek smiled slightly. “Hell, yes. I can use some company, Jess. Beer looks good, too. Come on in.”

Jess’s boot heels clicked against bare floorboards as he headed to the kitchen. In minutes they sat at the kitchen table while silence stretched between them.

“Camille was meant for opera. I can’t take her from that because she has the talent to be a star.”

After another stretch of silence, Marek ran his finger along the cold bottle. “Maybe I’ve been looking for what I had with Jillian, but Camille is different. I can’t expect her to give me what I expected with Jillian. Camille has all this talent. I’m going to have to settle for being a small part of her life, something I’m not used to doing.”

“If you love her and that’s what it takes, that’s a good decision,” Jess said. “I’d give anything for a small part of my family.”

“You’re right, Jess. I suppose it’s because I’m not used to being the one who compromises.”

“I don’t think you are.”

“For Camille, I’m willing to try to make this marriage work.”

“If you love her, that’s a good solution. You’ll do what you have to. So will she. You won’t lose Noah. What boy wouldn’t want to come to the ranch?”

“Might be a few, particularly one who’s raised backstage at operas.”

“You’ll see,” Jess said, and Marek felt a degree better. His cell rang. “That’s her, Jess.”

“Go ahead. I’ll head home anyway. Keep the beer for next time,” Jess said, standing and picking up his hat to go while Marek answered his phone. His heart missed a beat when he heard Camille’s voice.

*

After talking for over an hour to Marek, Camille lay in bed and contemplated her future. She loved Marek and she didn’t think she would ever love again. Life without him looked unbelievably empty. What did she want in her future? Would it matter to him what she wanted? One time he had asked her about scaling back her career, and she couldn’t. The last time they had been together, he had seemed restrained, preoccupied, yet their lovemaking had grown better and more passionate each time they were together.

What did she want in the future for herself? As his wife, money was no longer in the equation. Did she want to sing for the thrill and enjoyment of it? For the success? It was grinding work—voice and language lessons, daily voice practice, studying operas and arias, working out. She had Noah to consider. What did she want for her future?

She wanted Marek in her life and Noah’s. She wanted another baby. She also wanted to sing at La Scala and to reach a pinnacle in opera where she became a name.

Tears flowed freely and she turned, burying her face in her pillow to cry silently. She wanted it all—the best of both worlds, her love, her baby and her career. What did she want to sacrifice?

*

All the time Camille was in Saint Louis, she thought about her future. At night she sat up long hours, staring out the window at the familiar yard where she had grown up. What did she want most of all? Marek couldn’t make that decision for her. That one she had to make herself.

Making her decision, she cut her visit home short by two days and returned to Dallas, calling Marek and telling him she knew what she wanted to do.