Read Lover's Knot for Free Online Page B

while he was gone, and claim more of her things.
    He looked up as he carried the next to the last load and found her standing beside the second wing.
    “Elisa and Sam must have come inside. They made the bed and put fresh flowers beside it. I’ve got brand-new towels in the bathroom.”
    He was glad the Kinkades would be nearby to watch over his wife.
    “Come see, Isaac. Just a glance.”
    Reluctantly, he followed her into the bedroom and saw a queen-size bed made up with fresh white sheets, and a sitting area with a comfortable love seat and a low round table.
    “And the bathroom.” She moved slowly across the room and flung open the door of what he had guessed was a closet. The bathroom was small but clearly functional. The shower stall was just large enough to turn around in.
    “Looks like you’ve got everything you need here.”
    “Just about.”
    He wondered what she meant by that. Everything except you? Everything except a divorce?
    He went back to the car and returned with the final load. This one was filled with old quilts she had collected, including the ragged one his grandmother had left him, along with the land. He set this box just inside the bedroom door and glanced at his watch.
    “I’d like to avoid rush hour in the city.”
    “You could stay the night.”
    He considered this. It would help her ease into life in the cabin. A good husband would stay. He did not feel like a good husband today.
    “I have a meeting early in the morning. Do you want to show me the garden now?”
    Silently she led him down the steps. He watched her carefully balance, and closed his eyes when she swayed at the bottom. He was an inch from throwing her in the car and heading back to the city.
    She picked her way carefully along a path that needed mowing. “It’s over here.”
    About thirty yards from the house, he saw an area that looked as if it might once have been neatly laid out in raised beds with paths in between. Of course, now it was so overgrown nothing remained except the barest of garden skeletons.
    “There are some timbers along the edges. I’m sure there was a split-rail fence to keep out deer, or at least help. It’s huge, isn’t it? She must have raised all her food for the winter.”
    “Maybe.”
    She pointed west. “What’s left of an orchard is that way. I’m going to see if I can find an arborist to help me restore what I can.”
    He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I don’t want to leave you here. If you need to get away, won’t you choose someplace else? Visit friends. Rent a house in a suburb. Spend a year in Europe?”
    “I have to do this.”
    They stared at each other. She didn’t look as brave as he knew she wanted to. There was ambivalence lurking behind her attempt at confidence.
    If he could read her this clearly, he wondered, what did she see when she looked at him? Worry that he hadn’t done enough to persuade her? Fear for her safety? Or, worst of all, some splinter of relief that she was no longer his daily problem, that he could go about his life undisturbed, work the hours he was accustomed to, stop trying to transform her into the person she had been?
    He dropped his hands. “I have a little time. I can make you something for dinner. Help you unpack.”
    “I’ll be fine. I’ll take it slow. But everyday stuff is the best form of therapy.”
    “And you feel well enough to do that everyday stuff?”
    “I’m okay.”
    He was emptied of protest. “Then I’ll leave you to it. If you’re sure.”
    “I am.”
    “Just remember, I’m only a phone call away, K. C.”
    Her expression changed into something sadder. “You haven’t called me that in years.”
    Ten years ago she had been introduced to him at a party as K. C. Dunkirk, her byline at a small suburban weekly. He hadn’t gotten around to calling her Kendra for a year. K.C. had slipped away sometime after they were married. A lot of things had slipped away.
    “Maybe it’s because I