“I used to laugh,” she whispered. “I used to be fun and funny. What happened to me? When did I start changing?”

Thad was silent for a long time. Finally she turned to look at him. His blue eyes never wavered as he studied her.

“Do you really want an answer?”

Did she? Did she want to know what her husband thought of her?

Slowly she nodded.

He shifted so that he was facing her, then cupped her face in his hands. “It wasn’t when we found out we couldn’t have children. Maybe it started after the cancer. Maybe after what happened in Kazakhstan.”

Tears spilled out of her eyes. She couldn’t deny his words—he spoke the truth. There had been too many disappointments, too many almosts. Too much pain. Rather than let it overwhelm her, she’d closed her heart.

He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “You’ll be fine,” he promised.

C.J. wasn’t so sure. Something inside of her had died a long time ago. In that space where she’d once held laughter and light, there was only anger. How could a person survive like that?

“I still love you,” he said.

She looked at him. She wanted to ask how that was possible. How could he care when she’d become so dark and ugly on the inside?

“I love you, too,” she told him, because it was true. He had always been her anchor. Her solid rock. Her life.

But what was she to him? A burden? He was a gentle, kind man burdened with an angry, cold wife. He might love her, but she would bet he didn’t like her very much. Not anymore.

Could she blame him? C.J. wasn’t sure she even liked herself these days.

She almost said so to Thad, then stopped. If she confessed her secret, she knew what he would say. He would tell her to change. Easy words, but meaningless. Change? How? Where would she find the key she needed to unlock her heart and let the world back in?

* * *

PHOEBE STOOD UNDER a large tree of an undefined nature. She really should have brought a couple of flora and fauna books with her on the trip. She could have used them to identify the plants and trees she saw on the ride. Well, she wasn’t completely sure she would be able to read while riding Rocky. Did motion sickness apply to horseback?

She turned around and watched as Zane assembled the tent Lucy and Tommy shared. Zane worked quickly, his muscles bunching and releasing with each movement. There was an air of confidence about him, probably because he knew what he was doing. He was a man comfortable in his world. She, on the other hand, had always felt slightly out of step with her surroundings.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves. They’d stopped a little early today. Her butt appreciated the abbreviated ride nearly as much as it had appreciated the massage the night before. Would Zane be offering again?

Liquid desire trickled through her. As Maya had teased her earlier, she had it bad.

Her gaze drifted over the tents already set out, but not yet put up. Something wasn’t right. There was no symmetry to the camp, no sense of flow.

She crossed the grass to stand next to Zane and cleared her throat.

“I’ve been reading up on feng shui,” she said.

Zane straightened, pulled off his hat and slapped it against his thigh. He didn’t look wildly excited to see her, but at least he didn’t turn his back.

“It’s an ancient Chinese way of organizing one’s world to make sure the positive energy forces flow correctly.” Phoebe hesitated. “I think it’s Chinese. For sure it’s Asian.”

“Good to know.”

“Our camp is in the shape of an octagon, so we just have to find the front door and then we can position the tents so they’re in the right area. Tommy and Lucy should sleep in the ‘children area’ so they stay safe and healthy. I guess I’d want to be in the career area because things aren’t exactly great there right now.”

Zane’s dark gaze never wavered from her face. When she was quiet, he blinked a couple of times. “I thought you said you wanted to stop helping people all the time. You said it got you into trouble.”

“I forgot.” She sighed. “I just thought...”

“You were trying to help.”

She nodded. “It does seem to be a compulsion.” She thought about the feng shui and what he must think of it—and her. “I’m not an idiot.”

“I never thought you were. Your idea for the campsite is interesting, but it’s going to be windy tonight. I’m positioning the tents so that the wind doesn’t blow inside or blow them down.”

“Oh.” She fingered the hem of her T-shirt. “Okay. I guess that works, too.”

“Would you hand me that?” he asked, pointing to tent stakes bundled together.

She collected the thin metal hooks and handed them to him. As he secured Lucy and Tommy’s tent, she felt the first whisper of breeze drift across her cheek.

“It must be nice to have a place like this for your backyard,” she said. “Did you ever go out riding and get lost when you were a kid?”

“Some.”

“What happened?”

“Eventually I found my way back.”

“I’ve never had much sense of direction,” she said, “which can make showing houses a challenge.”

He straightened and stuck the remaining tent stakes into his back pocket, then crossed to stand behind her. When he put his hand on her upper arm, a ribbon of heat wove its way through her body.

“There,” he said, turning her and pointing. “See that mountain?”