A Turn in the Road (Blossom Street #8)(57)

“Go to bed, too,” she suggested. “We have all day tomorrow.”

“Not yet,” he said through a yawn.

Bethanne was just as glad. She rested her head against his shoulder. “Even though we’ve talked about a lot of things, I know almost nothing about you.”

“I don’t like to talk about myself,” he said.

“So I’ve noticed.”

“What would you like to ask?”

Of all the questions that buzzed around in her head, she asked one of the least important. “How long have you and Rooster been friends?”

Max blinked, and Bethanne saw that he was struggling to stay alert. “For most of my life. He’s my brother’s age and we were neighbors growing up. You know we also have a business connection—he handles our advertising.”

Bethanne nodded. “Is he married?”

“No. Well, he was at one time but it didn’t last long. He’s currently between…well, I hesitate to say girlfriends. Companions might be the better word.”

“He only joins you on the road part of the time, right?”

“Right. A month every summer, and sometimes a few weeks in the spring and fall.”

“Any family?”

“Who, Rooster or me?”

“You.”

“A brother. Luke’s ten years older. He’s taken over the business since I’ve been away. His kids are raised and he travels to Australia and New Zealand every chance he gets. We connect three or four times a year when I’m in California.”

“Are your parents alive?”

“They died a year apart back in the late nineties.”

She already knew his only daughter had died at a young age.

“Have you ever been to Seattle?” she asked.

“Once. Rooster and I took a ride around the Kitsap Peninsula and into the rain forest a couple of summers ago. It’s beautiful country.”

“I love it there.”

“You’re still in the same house where you and Grant used to live?” he asked.

Bethanne found it a curious question. “Yes. It’s the only home our children had ever known. There was enough upheaval in their lives without me pulling that rug out from under them, too.”

“Have you ever considered moving?”

“No.” That was the truth. She loved her home and had no intention of leaving.

“Anything else you want to know about me?” Max asked.

“Do you have a home?”

She felt his smile against her hair. “I don’t need one. Wherever I am, that’s home. However, I own a house in California.”

“Do you visit often?”

“No.”

“Friends other than Rooster?”

“A few here and there.”

“How do you live?”

“You mean money? My needs are simple. I don’t require much, don’t want much.”

Bethanne had guessed they had little in common, but that didn’t dissuade her. The attraction she felt for him was as strong as ever. Stronger. He’d ridden twenty hours to see her. Even now, he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open and yet he wanted to stay up so he could be with her. She couldn’t imagine Grant being content to sit on a porch swing like this.

Oh, that wasn’t fair. She couldn’t compare them. They were as different as any two men—any two people—she’d ever met. Grant would always be ambitious, driven to succeed. She knew that when she’d married him.

Max didn’t seem to care about financial or career success, not anymore. And she could tell it had never been the be-all and end-all for him.

She instinctively recognized that he was a man who loved completely. Grant—well, he’d claimed to, but he’d deviated from his love, his vows, without caring how that affected her or their children.

After several minutes of silence, he said, “I know from what you told me that you had to find your way back to God after Grant left you.”

“Yes.” It’d been a small epiphany for her.

“You helped me see that I needed to do the same thing—make peace with Him.”

“Oh?”

“We’ve been at odds ever since I lost Katherine. My daughter lived longer than any of her doctors expected. It was bad enough losing her, but then Kate…” He hesitated. “Losing my wife was too much, and frankly I’ve ignored anything spiritual ever since. Then, at a time when I least expected it, you plowed your way into my life.”

“Plowed?” She raised her eyebrows. “Plowed?”

He laughed. “Okay, you appeared in my life. And for the first time since I buried Kate, I could feel. I could breathe without pain. I could face the future. I have to say it felt damn good and then…you were gone.”

She tightened her hand around his, unsure what to say.

“I had a choice,” Max went on. “I could get angry all over again or I could be thankful that you came when you did.”

“And?”

“I chose to be thankful. Don’t get me wrong, God and I aren’t back on speaking terms but I’m getting there.”

“Oh, Max.” Not caring who saw them, she turned her head so their lips could meet. Early in their relationship, Grant had always been the romantic one. He’d written her poems and sent her flowers on the flimsiest of excuses. And yet no one, not even Grant, had said anything more beautiful to her than this.