Rooted (Pagano Family #3)(70)

She shook her head. She’d had only a week of being happy in this cocoon, only a week of knowing what happiness like this was, and she knew that the talk they needed to have would smother it all until it was dead. She just knew it. That was how her life worked—it gave her a glimpse, a taste, of what she wanted, then shoved her onto the road that took her away from it.

“I’m not ready. Not yet. We have time.”

He brushed her hair from her face. “Carmen, we don’t. We have big decisions to make.”



“Please? Please not yet.”

“You’re afraid.”

“Of course I am.” She pushed away from him and sat up. So much for cozy cuddling. “No matter what, everything changes. I know the questions that need answers. One of us has to tear our life apart. Or not, and then we tear us apart. I’m not ready to deal with any of that.”

He lay where he was, quietly, until, finally, Carmen turned and looked back over her shoulder at him. He looked gorgeous and golden in the winter morning sun. He was watching her, and when their eyes met, he said, “Okay. But I have a favor to ask, then.”

“What?”

“Come with me to Maine. Just for a week. I’ve seen your life here. See mine there. Then, when you’re ready, when we have to decide, we’ll both have some context for the choice.”

He was calm and reasonable, as always, and he was giving her time. “When?”

“Now. Today. We can drive up in your truck, if you don’t mind that. It’s only a few hours to Portland, and I’m not far past it. The rest of my stuff should be arriving from Paris in a couple days, anyway. I should be there to receive it.”

Her family wouldn’t be happy that she was leaving just before Christmas, but he was only asking for a week. She’d be back in time for the holiday. And maybe she’d know more about the choices looming before them.

“Okay. Maine it is.”





18



“Turn left at the stop sign.”

Carmen nodded at Theo’s direction and drove on, northward on Colson College Road. Though they’d talked most of the ride to Maine, she had grown quiet as they’d left the Portland suburbs behind and moved deeply into the Maine Woods. Hoping it was the beauty around them that had silenced her, he let her be quiet.

It really was beautiful, like a Currier and Ives print. They wouldn’t get the heaviest snows until after the New Year, but there was a blanket of about eight inches over the ground, and the pine boughs were coated with white puffs. The roads were clear and dry, though.

Theo watched Carmen see the world he lived in—quiet and peaceful, nearly always. She seemed to be taking it in completely, her mouth open slightly, he hoped in awe. He wanted her to love this place like he did.

Because he couldn’t leave Maine. She had to come to him. She and their daughter.

The Colson town limit was farther down this road, and the college at which he taught was beyond the other side of town. He planned to show her everything, but they’d start with his house.

Carmen paused at the three-way stop and then turned left onto the gravel road that would become his driveway in about half a mile, after they passed the Darrons’ place and Joe Boyd’s. This road was not clear, but resident traffic since the snowfall had formed reliable, well-packed tracks for Carmen to follow. Her Tundra was four-wheel drive, so he wasn’t worried.

He’d offered to drive as they were preparing to leave Quiet Cove, and again when they’d stopped for lunch. Both times, she had cocked a wry, assertive eyebrow at him. She drove her own truck.

Fine with him; he didn’t feel less manly on the passenger side. And it tickled him to listen to her grumble and bitch at other drivers when they did things she considered stupid or inconsiderate—not an infrequent occurrence. She didn’t drive aggressively, but it was a good thing her road mates couldn’t hear her commentary.

As the road narrowed, Carmen stopped, her brow furrowed. A snow-topped, hand-carved sign ahead announced that they were at Wilde Wood.

“You named your place—and you named it Wilde Wood?” Her tone had a mocking flavor.

“Hey, Eli made that in woodshop class. He did good work on it.”

She conceded with a smiling nod. “I guess we’re at the right place then—not that anyone could tell otherwise.”

Theo said, “No one’s been around, and I didn’t think to call my neighbor and ask him to clear the drive. But drive on ahead—that break in the trees is my driveway.

She nodded and downshifted, then asked, “You left your house just unattended since May?”

“No. Jordan was here most of the summer, and then Eli was here until he moved, and my neighbors checked in on things regularly enough. Living back here is pretty safe. It’s a small lake, not all that well known, and no big boats allowed. Most of the property around the lake is still owned by town families, so we don’t have a big contingent of summer people. We have more trouble with college kids in the spring than anything. And that’s just rowdiness.”

There was a fairly steep dip toward the end of his drive, and the Tundra’s tires took half a second to grab on, then made the descent and climbed back up without a problem. As they crested the rise, Carmen took an audible breath.

“Fuck.”