Tell Me

by Strom, Abigail

  “Well,” she said. “I guess it’s time to hike down this mountain.”

  On their way back to camp, Jane didn’t hear Sam’s voice. But she knew, somehow, that her sister was closer than ever.

  Before they set out on the return trip, Caleb made oatmeal and hot chocolate for breakfast. Then Jane helped him pack everything up.

  The ashes hadn’t weighed that much, but when she put on her pack, the urn inside seemed as light as a feather.

  “You should give me something more to carry,” she said to Caleb, watching him hoist his big pack onto his shoulders. “This isn’t a fair division of labor.”

  He smiled at her. “Don’t worry about me, tenderfoot. We’ve got a long hike ahead of us.”

  She supposed it was long, but it felt easy. Going down was a lot less stressful than going up, especially with perfect weather and the trekking poles to absorb the shock when the trail was steep. They stopped at the shelter where they’d drunk coffee the day before, and while they munched on protein bars, Jane swung her feet like a little kid.

  “Jane.”

  “Yes?”

  Caleb had been thoughtful on the hike down, even distracted. A few times when she’d called out to him it had taken more than one try to get his attention. Now, as she turned to look at him, his expression was serious.

  A moment went by.

  “What?” she asked finally, her curiosity growing.

  “I want you to come to Australia with me.”

  She stared at him. What, exactly, was he asking her?

  “You mean . . . like for a visit? When you go back?”

  He shook his head. “I mean for as long as I’m there. I want you to live with me, Jane.”

  She was so stunned she didn’t know what to say.

  “But . . .” She struggled to form a coherent sentence. “But you wouldn’t even stay with me for Christmas.”

  Not exactly the most important point right now, but it’s what her brain came up with.

  “I know. And I’ve regretted it ever since.” He reached out and took her hand. “I think you’d love Australia. It’s beautiful.”

  After what they’d shared during the last forty-eight hours, Jane knew her feelings for Caleb ran deeper than friendship and physical attraction. There was something else there, too—something she’d never expected. Something that made her weak in the knees when she looked at him, and not just because he turned her on so damn much.

  So why wasn’t she happier that Caleb had invited her to Australia?

  She bit her lip. “It means a lot to me that you asked. Honestly. But . . . have you thought this through?”

  He frowned a little. “What do you mean?”

  When he held her hand and gazed into her eyes, he was pretty much irresistible. He hadn’t said he loved her, or asked her to marry him, or talked about how long he wanted them to be together, but this was a pretty big first step.

  So why did it feel wrong?

  “You want me to just . . .” She gestured toward the ridge, as though Australia were beyond it. “Pack up my things and go to the other side of the world?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “They have stores in Australia, you know. You don’t have to pack much. I’m a big believer in traveling light.”

  “I know you are.” She took a breath. “But I don’t travel light. I own a bookstore, for one thing. How am I supposed to travel with that?”

  “Hire someone to manage it while you’re gone. New York can still be your home base.”

  How could she explain to him that it wasn’t just what she did for a living, but how she liked to live? And the fact that he didn’t seem to be taking that into account?

  “I’ve got at least a hundred books I wouldn’t want to be without. Do you know how much a hundred books weigh?”

  “Get the e-book versions and read them on your phone.”

  “Some of them are signed copies or rare editions. Some of them are from my childhood, the first books I fell in love with. Reading them is a tactile experience. E-books aren’t the same.”

  He sighed. “Okay, fine. You can ship them.” His gaze slid down her body, and even with the bulky layers of clothing between them, her skin tingled as though he’d touched her bare skin. “Especially if you read naked.”

  She smiled in spite of herself. “What would I do while you were off on your expeditions? Besides read naked.”

  There was a spark in his hazel eyes. “You’d be with me.”

  Okay, she hadn’t expected that.

  “I see,” she said slowly. “So I’d be trekking with you, hiking and white-water rafting and climbing mountains.”

  “I watched you up on that summit, Jane. You’re a natural.”

  “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done in my life. But—”

  His face lit up. “That was only the beginning. We’ll go around the world together. Places you can’t even imagine.”

  “But that’s not how I want to live.”

  Silence.

  Then: “What do you mean?”

  She sighed. “You liked Anne of Green Gables, right? But that doesn’t mean you suddenly want to be a children’s librarian. I loved hiking with you, Caleb—but that doesn’t mean I want to live like that.”

  She saw the disbelief in his eyes. “But I saw your face this morning. I’ve never seen you look so happy.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been that happy. I’d climbed a mountain for the first time in my life, and the view was like something from heaven. I felt closer to Sam than I ever have before, and I said goodbye to her. And you and I . . .” Her body tingled again as she remembered. “And you and I made love. So yes, I was happy. But that doesn’t mean I want to be your hiking partner. I can’t step into Sam’s shoes.”

  His brows drew together. “I would never expect you to. That’s not what I want.”

  “What do you want?”

  “To be with you.” He looked frustrated. “Don’t you want that, too? You don’t have to go on expeditions with me—not all of them, anyway. Not at first. We’ll get a place.”

  “A place,” she repeated slowly. “And what would I do there?”

  “Anything you want.”

  “Could I open a bookstore?”

  He frowned. “That wouldn’t be practical.”

  “Why not?”

  “We wouldn’t be in Australia for that long,” he said, his voice defensive.

  “How long?”

  “Well . . . I have expeditions scheduled through July.”

  “And then?”

  He made a wide sweep with his hand, as though encompassing the whole world. “Wherever you want. Europe, Asia, South America.”

  She thought about that. “Wherever you want, you mean.”

  “No. It can be your choice. Sometimes we’ll go where the business is, of course. But most of the time I plan expeditions where I want to go, and people will pay to come along.” He paused. “This time we’ll plan where we want to go.”

  A part of her was tempted. But—

  “I’m not saying I don’t ever want to travel. I would like to. But, Caleb . . . my life in New York isn’t just a default setting. It’s the life I’ve built for myself. It’s part of who I am.”

  He was looking at her like he couldn’t believe what she was saying. “Living in one place like that, in a city—” He shook his head. “Your life could be so much bigger than that, Jane. You could be bigger.”

  And with those words, a wave of coldness went through her.

  What had tempted her wasn’t the life he’d described, but Caleb himself. Her feelings for him were so overwhelming that it would be easy to say yes, to give up everything and go with him, follow him anywhere, just so she could be near him.

  But if he thought her life was small—if he thought she was small for living that life—then he didn’t really value her. The life he was describing was based on what he valued. He wanted her to be part of it, but he didn’t want his own life to change
at all.

  She stood up abruptly. “Let’s go. It’s only forty-five minutes from here, right?”

  “Jane—”

  She picked up her trekking poles. “I don’t want to talk anymore right now.”

  Chapter Twenty

  As they hiked the rest of the way down the mountain, Caleb’s frustration continued to grow.

  Last December, Jane had said the mistake women made with him was believing they were special. Different. They slept with him and started thinking about the future.

  Well, Jane was special. She was different. And he did want a future with her.

  She just didn’t want one with him.

  He couldn’t understand it. That incredible night in December might have been a one-time thing, passion brought about by shared grief and long-suppressed attraction. But last night?

  Whatever was between him and Jane, it was there to stay. She had to know that, too. Didn’t she?

  But if she did, why had she rejected him?

  When they reached the car, he put their packs in the trunk and slid into the driver’s seat. Jane settled into the passenger seat next to him, and her deep sigh told him she was enjoying the comfort of a car more than she ever had before.

  He started the engine and pulled out of the lot.

  “This is a first for me, you know,” he said abruptly.

  She looked at him. “What is?”

  “Asking a woman to travel with me.”

  She didn’t answer right away, and he had time to replay his words and wonder if they’d sounded as arrogant to her as they did in his head.

  “I have a first for you,” she said after a moment.

  “What?”

  “Move in with me. Live with me in Brooklyn.” She paused. “I’ve never asked a man that before.”

  Was she serious?

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not practical. Not with my work.”

  He’d asked her to make adjustments to her work, too. But this was different.

  Wasn’t it?

  “You can stay with me between expeditions. I’ll be your home base.”

  He frowned out at the road in front of him. “I’d rather live where I’m trekking, like I’m doing now in Australia. It makes more sense. And I don’t want a part-time relationship. I want you with me, damn it. Are we going to talk about this seriously or not?”

  “I was trying to,” she said, and she sounded so reasonable he felt ashamed.

  “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “I don’t mean to . . .”

  “Sound like an asshole?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s all right.”

  It’s because I want you. Because I don’t want to travel without you.

  Because I love you.

  Maybe if he told her that, everything else would work out. But she had to know how he felt. He’d told her last night, sort of.

  If there aren’t any answers, what is there?

  People who love you.

  She had to know he’d been talking about himself. Didn’t she?

  Of course, he could take away any doubt by telling her now.

  I love you, Jane.

  But he’d already been rejected once today. If he told her he loved her, and she rejected him again?

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel, and they drove the rest of the way to the motel in silence.

  He pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine. Then he did his best to shift gears into practicality.

  “Do you want to take a shower while I check us out?”

  She nodded gratefully. “I would love to take a shower. Even one with no water pressure.”

  “All right, then. Let’s meet back here in fifteen minutes.”

  The final stage of their journey started the way the last leg had ended: in silence.

  After an hour, Caleb couldn’t take it anymore.

  “So we’re really going to Prince Edward Island.”

  Jane turned to look at him, startled.

  “Of course. I mean . . . that was always the plan. Wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” He kept his eyes on the road. “I guess I thought your plans might have changed after last night, but I was obviously wrong. You still want to go meet that guy.”

  “It’s not . . .” She shook her head. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not. This isn’t a date, Caleb. And it’s Sam he wrote the letter to.”

  He knew he was worrying at a sore spot that wasn’t the real source of his pain, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “You called him your ideal man. Don’t you remember? The day you first met him.”

  She stared at him. “I don’t believe it. After everything that’s happened since then, you think I have some romantic fantasy about Dan?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “No! This trip isn’t even about him. Not really. It’s about Sam and fixing a mistake I made.”

  “But after last night—”

  “The two things don’t have anything to do with each other. I can’t leave Dan standing on a bridge all alone, waiting for a woman who won’t come.”

  His jaw tightened. “Jesus. He’s not going to be there, Jane.”

  “Why are you so sure of that? Are you really so cynical about people?”

  He glanced at her for a second. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess I am.”

  Silence fell between them again. On either side, Canadian forest stretched as far as the eye could see.

  This time, it was Jane who broke the silence.

  “Are we going to talk any more about my idea?”

  “What idea?”

  “You moving in with me. Using Brooklyn as your home base between expeditions.”

  Part of him knew that what she was offering was a compromise, but it felt like a rejection.

  “A long-distance relationship, huh?”

  She nodded. “Isn’t that better than no relationship?”

  He felt a familiar frustration: not being able to put his thoughts and feelings into words. Not the way Jane could.

  “It’s not what I want.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you with me.”

  God, he sounded petulant. But damn it, that was what he wanted.

  Jane didn’t say anything else, and there was another long stretch of silence between them.

  “You’d think I’d have figured this out before now,” he muttered after a while.

  “What?”

  “Opposites might attract, but they don’t work. Not for the long haul. All they do is hurt each other.”

  Jane was quiet for a moment.

  “You’re talking about your parents,” she said, not asking.

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  “What about my parents?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re different, too. And they’ve made it work for thirty-five years of marriage.”

  He felt his jaw tightening. “I can’t live in Brooklyn.”

  “Of course you can. You just don’t want to.”

  Anger shot through him. “Well, the same is true for you, isn’t it? You could come to Australia and be with me. You just don’t want to.”

  After a minute, Jane shrugged. “So . . . stalemate, then.”

  “I guess so.”

  And even though it was the inevitable conclusion, he was filled with regret and the ache of loss.

  So he put on country music, the time-honored choice for people in pain.

  “This is the only kind of music I absolutely hate,” Jane grumbled.

  “Too bad,” he said. “You can suck it up.”

  She gave him a sideways glance. “Or we could talk about finding some middle ground.”

  He shook his head. “You were the one who called it a stalemate. Anyway, it won’t do any good. Let’s give it a rest.” He paused. “We should change the subject. How many kids did Anne and Gilbert have?”

  They stuck to
noncontroversial topics for the rest of the trip. Jane fell asleep for a long stretch of the Trans-Canada Highway, waking up only when they reached the bridge that would take them over the water to Prince Edward Island.

  “Where are we? Are we there?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and muffling a yawn.

  She was adorable when she yawned, and he felt a pang. The truth was, he found every damn thing she did adorable.

  “Almost,” he said. “This is the Confederation Bridge. Once we’re across it we’ll be on the island. It’s another half hour to Cavendish.”

  She checked her watch. “We’ll get there forty minutes before sunset,” she said, sounding pleased.

  “Yep.”

  He sounded sour, and he gave himself a mental shake. He could keep on punishing Jane for not wanting what he wanted, or he could get himself together and start acting like a man.

  When they reached the island and began to drive north, through rolling farmland and sparkling ponds and little wooded hills, it was easier to be cheerful.

  Jane rolled down her window and stared out at the countryside.

  “I can’t believe it. Oh, Caleb, it’s so beautiful.”

  It really was. The fields were covered with wildflowers, flowering trees were laden with blossoms, and the deep blue sky made everything seem brighter.

  “The roads are even red,” she said. “Just like in the book. Remember Anne and Matthew talking about that?”

  He did. L. M. Montgomery hadn’t provided an explanation, but the naturalist in him had been curious, and he’d Googled it.

  “The color comes from iron-oxide in the soil,” he said, but he wasn’t sure Jane heard him. She was gazing out the window, and her eyes were full of visions.

  As the sun sank lower behind them, the scenes they drove through were drenched in gold. The mellow light seemed to illuminate every leaf and twig and blade of grass.

  When they entered Cavendish, he started to pay closer attention to the directions on his phone. Navigation was pretty simple—there was one main thoroughfare through the town—and soon they were turning right into a narrow road that led to a national park. The ocean and red sandstone cliffs were on the left; a grassy lane through fields and trees was on the right. Ahead in that direction he caught a glimpse of blue.

  “The Lake of Shining Waters,” Jane breathed.