by Karen White
“I’m thinking about doing a quilt for auction. I mean, what else do I have to do while I’m here?” She shrugged, feeling the heaviness of her shoulders.
Margaret smiled, turning her into the young mother of Caroline’s memory, and a flash of her mother picking her up after she’d fallen down when she was a child illuminated her mind. She had reached her arms up to place around her mother’s neck and remembered her tears soaking into the cool linen of Margaret’s dress. She hadn’t been afraid to cry then.
“Wonderful. Well, I guess I’d better get dinner started. Would you like brown rice or couscous with your baked chicken?”
Caroline looked up at the moon again. “Why don’t we go out for pizza instead?”
There was a slight pause. “All right. Pizza it is. Let me go change.”
“Can I use the phone while you’re getting dressed?”
Her mother had already opened the back door. “Don’t push your luck, Caroline.” She gave Caroline her stern-mother look but ruined it with a lift of her lips. “Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you at the car.”
Caroline quietly laughed and followed her mother inside.
CHAPTER 17
CAROLINE SLID ON HER NEW HIKING SHORTS AND STOLE A glimpse in the tall mirror standing in the corner of her bedroom. She’d never call herself hot, but she didn’t think she looked too bad, either. For no reason other than that the sun was shining and nobody was bothering her, she rolled the cuffs of her shorts up an inch, showing more thigh than she had since she’d last worn a bathing suit.
She searched for the ponytail holder she wore every day, then remembered she’d lost it in the store the day before when she’d been trying on clothes. A search through her dresser drawers didn’t yield another, so she satisfied herself with tucking her hair behind her ears. She paused at the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman who stared back at her. This woman had soft hair that floated around a face that had a pinch of color to it and eyes that didn’t seem so hollow. Maybe coming to the mountains had been the right thing. Or maybe that woman had always been there in the mirror and Caroline had never taken the time to really look at her. Perhaps it was a bit of both.
She grabbed her new hat, water bottle, sunscreen, and a sack lunch, then attempted to let herself out of the house without waking her mother. Drew had suggested meeting at Rainy’s again, but after yesterday’s conversation with her mother, she didn’t think it would be so bad if her mother knew about her hikes. Her mother’s words hit her again, warming her as they’d done when she’d first heard them. Even if you didn’t need me, I needed you. The words had surprised her, and made her wonder what other secrets her mother had never shared with her. And how could she have never guessed that at one time in her mother’s self-sufficient, independent life, she had actually needed her? Caroline shook her head as she fumbled with the back-door latch. She was almost thirty years old. Old enough to let some of the things hidden inside out in the open and see what the sun and light did to them.
“Take an apple with you!” her mother’s voice called from the front of the house.
Caroline stuck her head back inside the door. “I got one already. And a power bar, too. I’ll be with Drew, so you don’t need to worry, okay?”
“I know—Rainy told me. You have fun. And don’t forget your sunscreen.”
Rolling her eyes, Caroline stepped out into the morning sunshine.
Drew was leaning against the passenger-side door of his truck when Caroline spotted him. So maybe her mother was right about him being good-looking—if you liked the annoying lawyerly carpenter type. She felt a momentary flash of power as his gaze swept her from head to toe then back again.
“I like those shorts.”
“I believe you mentioned that yesterday.” She allowed him to open the door, and as she climbed in, she said, “You might want to keep those eyes inside your head or else you might lose them.”
He laughed, then made his way to the driver’s side and behind the wheel. “Please promise me that you’ll never be completely nice to me. It’s too much fun this way.”
Snapping her seat belt into place, she said, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. If you find me straying too close to nice, let me know and I’ll happily adjust my attitude.”
“I’ll make sure to do that.” He cranked the engine. “So, which way? I’m at your command.”
“Now, that’s tempting. There’re lots of crevasses around here where a body would never be found. But I digress. How about Hart’s Peak? You mentioned it yesterday, so I thought today we could go see Ophelia up close and then eat our lunches under her large nostrils.”
“Wow—sounds like a Kodak moment.”
“So would a picture of a lawyer being tossed off the edge, but I’ve only got two hands and I need at least one to hold the camera. Take a left up here.”
Caroline sat back in her seat for the rest of the drive, actually enjoying herself for the first time in a very long while. She didn’t ruin the feeling by trying to think of why it had been so long. She directed Drew up the winding roads, pointing out different paths they could take later, and even sharing a few of the adventures she had shared with Jude and Shelby along those same paths. She wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to share them with Drew, only that it seemed to easy to say Jude’s name in his presence. It was almost as if by having loved and lost Shelby, he could somehow share a measure of her own grief. And, like Rainy, he didn’t seem to expect her to cry.
He parked the truck on the side of a narrow road, edging it as close as he could to the outcropping of rock just on the off chance that a car would need to get by. Brightly colored leaves covered most of the nonpaved areas, reminding her that fall wasn’t far off. It came earlier in the mountains, but always signaled an end to summer. It saddened her, the way the screen credits rolling at the end of a movie saddened her; the end had been announced, but nobody had bothered to tell her what happened next.
Feeling the early-morning chill to the air, she zipped up her sweatshirt, then reached inside the truck to get the rest of her stuff. The floor mat where she’d dumped everything was empty except for her water bottle. She looked up at Drew, who was in the process of strapping on a large backpack.
“Don’t worry—I got it all. I figured you didn’t need the extra weight of carrying a pack, so I just brought one that would fit everything.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not trying to be nice to me, are you?”
“Absolutely not. I just wanted an excuse to make you go ahead of me so that there wouldn’t be any sudden pushing from behind.”
“Smart man.” She pointed up a narrow leaf-strewn path. “Let’s go this way. It’ll take longer, but it’s not as steep. Until I’m in shape, I think we should stick to the gentler slopes.”
“Will do.” He motioned for her to go ahead of him and she began climbing the path, feeling the gratifying pull on her muscles.
“Of course, being behind you also gives me a wonderful vantage point of your rear view and legs. I might have to stop and rest a little more frequently than usual.”
She wanted to laugh out loud. Was he flirting with her? It had been so long since she’d taken her mind off of rows of numbers and bottom lines that she thought she’d become immune to the yin and yang of relationships. She kept her gaze focused forward and tried to keep the smile out of her voice. “If you say something like that one more time, I will push you and I will not help with the recovery of your body.”
He laughed softly behind her. “Tough lady. Just the way I like them.”
She gave him a warning look over her shoulder, then kept walking, feeling the steady thump of her heart, the tapping inside her chest a welcome reminder that it still beat there. Placing her hand on the scar, she increased her pace and led the way up the winding path.
They walked slowly and mostly in silence, as if by mutual agreement. Caroline stopped to rest several times, and he tried not to be obvious as he checked out her
color and paid attention to her breathing.
While they walked, Drew followed behind Caroline, enjoying the view much more than he should have. He should go back to that store and buy those shorts in her size in every color. And not so much for the way they made her look, but because of the way they made her move. She wasn’t the timid accountant with the acerbic tongue. Instead, the shorts seemed to transform her into a confident woman who strode forward without looking back. Even her hair, unbound from the military-style ponytail she normally wore, seemed to agree as it swayed and bounced with every step. He only wished that Caroline could see herself from this vantage point. He was pretty sure she’d see what he saw—a woman who embraced the past, not a woman who seemed to be buried in it.
He heard the sound of water before he saw the clear bubbling stream racing around rocks on its journey down the mountain. Caroline stopped and he moved closer, watching as the stream was guided into a dammed lake that lay on the other side of two large gray boulders, a small waterfall gushing between them and spilling into the lake. They appeared like sentinels guarding a private lake, allowing in only a privileged few.
“We used to come here to swim.”
He watched her blond hair blow across her face, grasping at the small smile on her lips as if to keep it there. Squatting, he scooped his hand in the water. Its iciness stung him and he quickly shook it dry. “That’s pretty cold. Can’t imagine what it’s like in the winter.”
She stepped closer, a mysterious smile on her lips. “It’s pretty damned cold, from what I remember.”
“You speak from experience.”
Caroline sat on a large rock, her feet near enough to the splashing water that dark moisture spots appeared at the toes of her shoes from the spray. “Jude used to dare us to swim across and back. The last one had to go again until there was nobody else left in the water. I always won.”
He sat down next to her feeling the oddest compulsion to tuck her stray hair behind an ear. She looked so young sitting there on a rock with her knees pulled up and her fair hair blowing around her face; almost like the young woman she would have been if life hadn’t interfered. “Did you pack your bathing suit?”
She drew back, shaking her head vigorously. “I don’t swim, remember?”
“Well, I remember you telling me that, but I don’t seem to remember why.”
“That would be because I never gave you a reason because I don’t have to give you one. In other words, it’s really none of your business.”
He took a deep breath, smelling the wet leaves and damp earth, and it reminded him of Shelby for a minute, of her earthiness and her scent after she’d been working in her garden. “You’re wrong, you know. I think I know you well enough now that I can claim the right to stick my nose in your business. It’s because of Jude and Shelby, I think. Their relationship makes us practically related.”
She shook her head, then rested her chin on her knees. “I can say his name around you without . . . reliving certain thoughts. Maybe it’s because you were married to Shelby and I used to be able to tell her anything.” She looked at him, her gray-green eyes piercing. “But I certainly don’t feel like we’re related.”
He didn’t look away. “So why don’t you swim anymore?”
Her expression hardened, but he could see she was trying to remain calm. “So why won’t you let me sell your furniture ideas?”
He watched her for a long moment, unwilling to drop his gaze. “Touché,” he said.
Caroline stood abruptly, the color bright in her cheeks. “I thought we were just going to have a little nature hike, and here you are trying to play shrink with me again. Either stop it right now or take me home. I keep telling you that I’m fine, but you won’t seem to listen.”
He stood, too. “I’m sorry, but I’m hard of hearing. That’s what made me such a good lawyer.”
“But did it make you a good husband?”
“Ouch.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the words had stung much more than he wanted her to know.
She looked stricken, as if she’d been the one slapped. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She took a step backward, her foot slipping on the rock she’d been sitting on, and he grabbed her arms to steady her. “No, probably not. But you’re right. It did make me a lousy husband—and father. I wasn’t at first. And then I realized that Shelby . . . Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. What matters now is why we moved here. I wanted to concentrate on Jewel, hoping to take the place of her wonderful mother and relearn how to be a father at the same time.” He pulled her closer, trying to make his point. “The guilt nearly killed me when Shelby died—but I figured it would be more productive to continue living. What a waste that would be—living as if you were already dead.”
She tried to push away from him, but he held firm to keep her from falling backward.
“You don’t know the first thing about guilt!” She slapped at his chest, but he wouldn’t let go.
“And you do? What is it, Caroline? What is it that has changed you from the loving and creative girl you used to be and into this prickly shadow of a woman I see every day?”
Her face turned a mottled red, and seeing her so wounded from his words was like a kick to the gut. He wasn’t in a courtroom any longer. If only he could remember that where Caroline was concerned. But every time she told him a story from her childhood, he became more and more determined to find that girl again.
Slowly he released his grip. At the same time she pushed against him, the force sending her backward, her arms flying and her feet trying to find purchase on wet leaves and rocks. He reached for her, and their fingertips touched for a brief moment before she slipped over the edge and landed in the cold water of the lake below.
Drew quickly scrambled down the embankment, somehow managing to keep his balance. She’d disappeared under the water, and he had already thrown the backpack to the ground and was preparing to dive in when she surfaced, treading water and gulping for air. Before he could call out to her, she began a freestyle crawl toward the edge. He watched in awe, trying to think of what she reminded him of. On land she was frail and fragile, but in the water she was strong and confident, graceful and filled with subtle beauty. He felt as if he had finally caught a glimpse of the Caroline she had once been, and he knew then that he couldn’t give up on her. She was there inside the hard shell she’d built around herself. He would find her; he had all the time in the world.
When she reached the edge she staggered from the water, and Drew was alarmed to see that her lips were a pale shade of blue. She stood shivering and glaring at him, like some water goddess that had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, and he had the absurd urge to laugh. Instead he reached into the backpack and pulled out a pair of sweats.
He handed them to her, and she grabbed them without a word, slogging her way out of the water.
“Are you going to be all right? Your mom gave me her cell phone, and I can call for help if you need it.”
She shook her head vigorously, spraying icy water on him. Instead of pressing the point, he turned his back to her. “Go ahead and change—I promise I won’t look.”
After a minute he felt her sodden shorts hit his back, quickly followed by her shirt and sweatshirt. He moved out of range before the boots could follow. He heard them land close by, and he smiled to himself, admiring her aim.
When he stopped hearing her grunting and swearing and the rustling of clothes and leaves, he turned around. “I have a pair of thick hiking socks, too, if you . . .” His words trailed off, lost somehow as he looked at her. She was the frail woman again, appearing even smaller in his oversize sweats, her wet hair hanging limply around her face. The neckline of the sweatshirt hung low over her chest, exposing the top of her bra and most of a long purple scar.
She seemed to know what he was staring at, and she quickly yanked the neckline up, her hands shaking, but he didn’t think it was just the cold. As he moved toward her, he heard
her teeth chattering, sending a startled alarm to his brain.
“We’ve got to get you warmed up.”
Anticipating her resistance, he scooped her up in his arms before she could protest, and sat down on a dry patch of grass against a tree and away from the water, holding her close. Her body shivered under his fingers, each bone trembling like a fallen leaf in a strong wind. She surprised him by huddling into his chest, her hands folded against her face, shoulders rounded as if in defeat. That, more than anything, tugged at his conscience.
“I’m sorry,” he said into her bowed head. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Her body tensed for a moment, but the trembling soon took over. “I’m too c-c-c-cold to f-f-fight with you, so don’t t-t-t-talk to me.”
He pulled her closer, trying to transfer his body heat to her. “That’s way too tempting for me to ignore.” Being careful not to uproot her position, he struggled to untie the sweatshirt he’d knotted around his waist. He slipped the neck hole over her head, then pulled the rest of it over her body, leaving her arms clenched in front of her. Bending his face to the back of her neck, he breathed his warm breath onto her damp hair. “Your scar doesn’t make you ugly, you know. There’s no reason to be embarrassed about it.”
He instinctively tightened his hold on her, anticipating her resistance. But instead he felt her shoulders begin shaking violently, and this time he knew it wasn’t from the cold. Why are you doing this, Drew? Why can’t you leave her alone? He wasn’t sure of the answer. He knew only that she needed somebody desperately and that he was there. Being there was what Shelby told him had made her fall in love with him. And it was the first thing he’d stopped doing when he had finally acknowledged that he would never be Shelby’s first choice.
Caroline’s warm tears soaked through his shirt, and he pulled her closer.
“I d-d-d-don’t c-c-c-cry. I n-n-never c-c-c-cry.”