Chapter Thirteen
January was hard, and February wasn’t much easier. March was a little better. Jane was at the bookstore a lot, but she didn’t want to cut her employees’ hours, so she came up with a way to keep everyone busy.
She owned the second floor of her building, but she’d never used it for anything but storage. You had to get to those rooms from a separate entrance, so it didn’t make sense to expand the bookstore up there.
Now, finally, she thought of a way to use that space.
In one of the quiet back rooms she set up writing desks; in another she put easels and her grandmother’s old pottery wheel. In the big sun-drenched front room with the beautiful wooden floors, she put up a ballet barre on one wall and mirrors on the other. In the small room at the top of the stairs she put a conference table and chairs for writers’ groups or play readings or anything else people might want it for.
Her investment was minimal, so she could afford to keep her prices low. Artists and dancers could rent studio space. Writers could rent a desk for an hour or a day.
“But what are you getting out of this?” Kiki asked, skeptical of the new project.
“Money.”
“Not very much.”
“More than I thought when we started. We’re getting pretty popular.”
“You don’t care about the money. What else are you getting from this?”
Jane shrugged. “Company I don’t have to talk to.”
Kiki was an extrovert, so she didn’t really understand the appeal. But Jane found comfort in being around people she didn’t have to interact with, especially people who were reading or writing or painting. The quiet in the writing room and art studio felt rich and warm, not cold and empty like the silence in her apartment.
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason her apartment felt cold.
Caleb had spent a night there, and now he was gone.
Weeks went by before she could sleep at night without dreaming of him, or lying awake remembering the heat of his skin, the weight of his body, the look in his eyes as he sank into her.
The difference between Caleb and other men wasn’t on a continuum. It wasn’t like her last boyfriend was a six and Caleb was a ten. It was more like everything else had been in two dimensions, and her night with Caleb had been in three.
It had been a whole other world.
But it wouldn’t do her any good to remember that night. She’d had a few texts from Caleb, and she’d sent a few to him, but the one time he’d called—on her birthday, in February—had felt stilted, and they hadn’t talked since.
It was getting harder to believe that their one night of passionate, fevered intensity had been real.
The one thing she was sure of was that it would never be repeated.
He was in Australia, and she was here. And when he wasn’t in Australia anymore, he still wouldn’t be here.
He’d never be here.
But she was, and she was doing her best to act like it.
She split her time between the bookstore and what she’d started calling the artists’ colony. One unexpected—but welcome—side effect of the new venture was that her store had become very popular with aspiring writers, who, it turned out, bought a lot of books. That meant she could give Felicia and Kiki as many hours as they wanted, and business was thriving.
She’d found a delicate balance for herself, between busyness and reflection, time alone and time with people, thinking about Sam and Caleb and not thinking about them. She knew she was still in danger of slipping back into depression, but she hadn’t realized anyone else knew it until the day she came into the shop and heard her employees arguing.
“I’m going to burn it,” said Felicia.
“It’s not yours, and destroying mail is a felony.” That was Kiki.
“This isn’t mail. It’s not stamped.”
“It’s a letter, and it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“The heck it doesn’t. You remember what she was like at Christmas, and you know how good she’s been lately. Do you really want to give her this thing and take a chance that—”
Jane stepped into view. “Take a chance that what?”
The two of them stared at her, and Felicia, holding a letter in her hands, flushed bright red from her neck to her ears.
“It’s nothing. Just a—”
Kiki snatched it away and held it out to Jane.
“It’s a letter for Sam. We found it wedged behind a drawer when we were cleaning.”
Jane’s hand closed over the envelope. She recognized it instantly, and she wished for a moment that Felicia had won the argument and burned it.
She wasn’t afraid of remembering her sister anymore, but she was afraid of remembering the handsome stranger who’d fallen in love with her. She was afraid of remembering her resentment and jealousy, and the question she’d asked herself over and over again last Christmas.
Could she have made Sam stay in the city by telling her about Dan?
Logic said no, but her heart had said maybe, and what if, and a hundred other agonizing things.
She took a deep breath and looked up at Kiki and Felicia, and the concern on their faces was like a warm fire on a cold day.
Her face relaxed into a smile. “It’s all right,” she said. “Thanks for worrying about me, though. I’ll be upstairs, okay?”
She took the letter with her and walked slowly up to the second floor, sitting at one of the empty writing desks. It was still early, and the room was only half-full. In the desk nearest her, a young woman sat with a dreamy look on her face and a laptop open in front of her.
Jane opened the letter and laid it on the desk.
Dear Samantha,
We don’t know each other yet, so this letter might seem crazy to you. But from the moment I first saw you in your sister’s bookshop, something happened to me. It was as though all the light in the universe was shining through you, and I wanted to follow wherever you might lead.
Jane has told me a little about you, and I know you loved Anne of Green Gables when you were a little girl. If you feel like taking a chance on a man who fell in love with you at first sight, I have a proposition.
Prince Edward Island is my home. If you happen to be single when spring arrives, I hope you’ll come meet me at the Lake of Shining Waters. There’s a bridge at one end any local will direct you to, and I will be there at sunset on May 1.
Yours in hope,
Daniel Smith
Jane sat and stared at the letter for a long time. Then she folded it up, put it back in the envelope, and started to think.
He was going to be at the Lake of Shining Waters on May 1, waiting for a woman who would never come. And it was her fault. She’d created an imaginary Sam for him to fall in love with, and now that lie was out there in the world.
She’d told Dan that Samantha loved Anne of Green Gables. The book was set on Prince Edward Island in Canada, where, apparently, Dan actually lived. That must have made him feel even more connected to the woman she’d described.
The Lake of Shining Waters was a place from the book, and apparently it also existed in real life. So when Dan wanted to invite Sam to a romantic meeting, he’d chosen a spot he thought would be meaningful to them both.
And it would have been . . . if she were the one Dan had written the letter to. She couldn’t think of anything more romantic than meeting a man at the place where Anne Shirley had once been rescued by handsome, dashing Gilbert Blythe.
But Dan hadn’t written to her. He’d written to Sam.
Jane put her head in her hands.
There was a chapter in Anne of Green Gables called “A Good Imagination Gone Wrong,” about how Anne’s vivid tales of ghosts and ghouls had gotten her in trouble. As a person with a colorful imagination of her own, Jane sympathized. But except for making her a little forgetful now and then—the occasional missed subway stop or dentist appointment—her own imagination had never seemed like a liability.
Now it did. She’d messed up, and she had to fix it. Dan deserved the truth, and Sam deserved to be remembered for who she had really been.
She took a deep breath, and then she went back downstairs.
“I need to go to Canada for a few days,” she said to Kiki and Felicia. “Can you guys handle the store?” She paused. “Also, do either of you know where I can go to get a passport?”
Kiki and Felicia looked at each other and then back at her.
“Are you feeling all right, Jane?” Kiki asked cautiously.
“Of course I’m all right. I just need to take a trip.”
Felicia rested her elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “Now, I ask you. If one of us suddenly announced we had to go to Canada immediately, wouldn’t you think that was weird?”
“I don’t need to go immediately. I just need to be there on May 1.”
Kiki looked skeptical. “That’s barely enough time to get a passport.”
“Well, that’s good to know. See? That’s why I asked you guys. You both like to travel. You know things I don’t know.”
“What’s happening on May 1?” Felicia asked. “Something to do with that letter?”
Jane squeezed it in her hand. “An appointment Sam won’t be able to keep.”
“Sam was supposed to meet someone in Canada on May 1?”
She nodded. “So I’m going instead.”
Kiki leaned toward her. “This isn’t sounding any less crazy. Can’t you explain what—”
“No. I don’t want to talk about it. I just need to plan the trip.”
Kiki and Felicia looked at each other again. Felicia raised her eyebrows, and Kiki shrugged.
“Well, the first thing you need to do is apply for a passport. You can have it expedited, but that’ll cost you extra.”
Jane nodded. “Okay, I’ll start there.” She took a deep breath. “What do I have to do?”
The ridges and ranges of western Australia were 350 million years old. A man who loved wild places could spend years here, exploring the largest expanse of outback in the country. Between the ancient beauty of the land and the cattle ranches and rodeos, Caleb should have felt as comfortable here as any place on earth.
He was on horseback, watching the sun set over a spectacular river gorge. The wild splendor of the landscape should have lifted his spirits. But all he could think about was how much Sam would have loved it here—and what Jane would say if he could ever get her out of New York and into a scene like this.
He turned away from the sunset and rode slowly back to the ranch where he was staying. He’d met the owner on a trek years ago and was taking him up on an offer of free room and board in exchange for his help with the animals—cattle as well as horses. It was an ideal arrangement: a couple of weeks working on the ranch, followed by a couple of weeks leading expeditions in the outback.
It should have been perfect.
His horse was a mare called Restless, and every time he saddled her up he remembered something Sam had said to him once.
“You’re the most restless man I’ve ever known.”
He missed her every day, almost every hour. He missed her humor and strength, her unwavering friendship, her hunger for life.
She’d been his partner and his best friend. And yet, whenever she’d offered him opportunities to open up to her about the scars of his childhood, he’d always declined.
He’d told himself it was because he was a private man. But maybe what Jane had said was closer to the truth.
You’re running away like you always do.
He’d run as far from both sisters as he could. He was half a world away from Sam’s ashes and half a world away from Jane. Australia should have been far enough to escape the pain of Sam’s absence and to break Jane’s hold on his heart.
Instead, both were stronger than ever.
He’d accused Jane of not dealing with Sam’s death, but he hadn’t, either. It still felt like an open wound. The pain of it made him think of other, older wounds . . . the ones he thought he’d left behind years ago.
His mother, his father, Sam. He’d loved them, and they’d died or left. And instead of healing, their absence was an ache in his heart that never got better.
Jane’s absence hurt in a different way.
His Christmas hike, which he always made challenging enough to occupy his full attention, had been dull and stale this year. His thoughts kept turning to Jane, missing Jane, wanting Jane, until he finally acknowledged the truth.
He should have stayed with her for the holidays.
It was impossible to imagine them as a couple—they were too different, and their lives would never mesh. She didn’t belong in the wilderness with him, and she deserved better than a long-distance relationship.
But he’d give anything, now, to have had one more night with her. And an entire week? It would have been paradise. The kind of memory that could have kept him warm on cold nights and reminded him that his heart—and other body parts—were alive and well.
But he’d passed up that chance, choosing his solitary Christmas tradition over time with Jane. And he’d regret that decision for a long time to come.
He’d called her on her birthday, and at the sound of her voice he’d gotten tongue-tied, like a thirteen-year-old boy talking to his first crush. Then he’d pulled himself together and overcompensated, trying to go back to the banter they’d once shared. That effort had fallen flat.
The weight of what he’d really wanted to say had been unbearable.
I miss you. I think about you. Do you think about me?
He hadn’t said any of that, of course. But after they’d hung up, he’d almost driven to the airport to get on a plane bound for New York.
The only thing that stopped him was not knowing how Jane would react. He couldn’t stand the idea that she might send him away—or worse, feel sorry for him. Maybe it was just masculine pride, but he wasn’t willing to risk her rejection.
Two months had gone by since then. He and Jane had texted a few times, but they hadn’t spoken on the phone since her birthday. The more time went by without them talking, the less likely it seemed that they could ever go back to the way things had been before Sam’s death . . . much less that their one incredible night together would ever be repeated.
Visa requirements would send him back to the States soon, before he could return to Australia for a few more months. His brother and aunt were lobbying for him to come to Colorado, and he supposed that made the most sense.
More sense than going to New York.
The last rays of the setting sun turned the landscape golden. He slowed Restless to a walk as they neared the ranch, giving her time to cool down before they reached the stable.
Once inside, he spent longer than usual grooming her. He found a horse’s stall, as always, a peaceful place to be.
If only he could find that same peace within himself.
As he walked from the stables to the outbuilding where he was living, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Kiki’s name on the screen.
They’d exchanged numbers last November, when they’d both been worried about Jane. Why would she be calling now?
Ten minutes later, he knew the answer.