A Turn in the Road - Debbie Macomber [75]
But it hadn’t. It’d gotten worse. Much worse.
After months of being unable to function, of drinking too much and taking stupid risks, Max talked to his brother and asked for some time away. Originally, he’d thought all he’d need was three months, six at the most. But once he was on the road he found peace. Rooster, his lifelong friend, had come with him. They’d ridden bikes since Max was in his teens. Rooster had provided companionship when he’d needed it most. He hadn’t tried to tell Max how he should feel but was there to listen when he wanted to talk. Best of all, life on the road was simple. Even though he moved from place to place, there was a predictability that calmed him and, surprisingly, friendships that gave him purpose. This solace was still shaky but at least he was able to sleep. At least the nightmares had stopped. Everything was going smoothly until this summer.
When he met Bethanne.
Now she was all he could think about. An hour after he’d returned to his room he still couldn’t sleep. He’d ridden more than twenty hours with only short breaks for the opportunity to be with her again. It was a testament to Rooster’s friendship that he’d traveled with him. Both Willie and Skunk had taken off, which was fine with him. Max had met them along the way. They’d traveled together for a week or so and they might meet up again sometime. If not, it wouldn’t bother him.
Rooster seemed to enjoy watching him make a fool of himself over a woman. Max closed his eyes. Some nights he talked to Kate, relaying details of where he was and the people he’d met on the road. The people he’d helped or tried to help. He did that whenever he could. It was a penance of sorts, he supposed, for having failed his wife. These friendships, most of them brief, allowed him to make up for what he hadn’t done. They silenced the accusations inside his head.
Instinctively, he knew Kate would have approved of Bethanne. He liked to think she’d approve of the fact that he was getting involved with life again.
Max didn’t know what it was about Bethanne that appealed to him so strongly. He’d met other attractive women, but none had stirred him the way she did.
He’d been faithful to Kate from the moment they’d met and he’d been faithful since her death, too. Like Bethanne, he wasn’t the type to fall in and out of bed, driven by hormones and the need for sexual satisfaction.
He’d sensed Bethanne was someone worth knowing the first time he’d laid eyes on her in that café near Pendleton, Oregon. They’d looked at each other when he placed his order and he’d experienced a strong physical reaction. Almost a feeling of recognition. He wasn’t sure what else to call it. There was attraction, of course, but it was more than that.
She must’ve felt it, too, because when they met again at the lake, she told him she’d thought about him that night. The way she’d touched his hand… It was as if she’d identified the pain he carried inside and somehow known how to ease it. He usually tried to avoid being touched but with Bethanne it was different.
Yes, this woman belonged in his arms. In his life. He knew it then. He knew it now.
Apparently, he fell asleep soon after he’d decided that. What seemed like minutes later, Rooster was knocking at his door, waking him. Max had no idea how it could be morning already, but the clock radio in his room confirmed that it was. He staggered to the door and unlatched it to let him in.
Rooster had showered, shaved around his neatly trimmed white beard and changed clothes. “You look like hell,” he said with