With Elizabeth.
Why did he want to take me, his new bride, to a place where he’d lived with, and lost, his first wife? The question started to expand inside me. I was about to explode with it as we left the main highway and took a road that dipped and climbed through a rugged mountain landscape.
“Evan?” I began uneasily after a pause of us not speaking for nearly an hour.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I know the road is twisty and it may seem like I’m going a little fast. But I’ve driven this highway since I was sixteen. You’re safe. I would rather you had me drive you around here, though, until you get used to the mountain roads.”
“No. It’s not that.” At least not entirely. I actually did appreciate the reassurance about the curving, steep road and his deft, swift driving. I placed a hand on my lurching stomach.
“You lived in this house. The one we’re going to, I mean. With Elizabeth. Isn’t that right?”
I felt him glance at me and wanted to scream out for him to keep his gaze on the road.
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand. Why do you want to go there? Now.”
“You’re wondering why I want to return to Les Jumeaux after marrying you?”
“Le jumu… “ I attempted to repeat, confused.
“Les Jumeaux. It means the twins, because it’s two identical homes, separate, but side by side.”
“And we’re going to live in…”
“The North Twin,” he finished for me.
“And the other house?”
“Is owned by Elizabeth’s father.”
Noah Madaster. The name popped into my head, a remnant of me doing all that online research about Elizabeth. Elizabeth’s father had been a high-profile figure from a prominent family, I recalled, a former doctor and one-time governor of Nevada.
“But he won’t be there, will he?” I asked, finding the idea of being neighbors with Elizabeth’s dad awkward.
“No. He and his wife have retired to their ranch in the Carson Valley,” Evan said.
At my sigh of relief, he grabbed the hand resting on my thigh and held it firmly.
“And as for your question, I wanted to come back now because I could. With you at my side, Anna, I can finally return to the place where I grew up, the place I consider home. You’ve made me strong again.”
I watched him as he pressed the back of my hand to his mouth. I felt his kiss all the way to my core.
At that moment, we rose to the summit of the mountain. I had my first glimpse of the expanse of Lake Tahoe, a sparkling sapphire gem nestled in the rocky, pine-covered cradle of the mountains.
It was like an opening. Not just in the landscape. In my spirit. It was the strangest thing.
It felt as if I’d come home, too.
Chapter Three
We arrived at Les Jumeaux just before sunset. The anticipation built in me as we coasted down the winding, steep highway surrounding the lake. The only things that stopped me from digging my nails into the leather seat were Evan’s calm, skilled driving and the distraction of the jaw-dropping view. I found myself absorbing the unique hues of green and blue present in the water and mentally detailing what paints I’d use to replicate them.
An expectant silence hung in the car when Evan finally turned off the highway onto a shadowed, narrow road that led into the pine forest. We arrived at a small stone house in front of a tall wrought iron gate. It was a gatehouse, a checkpoint that had probably once housed a security guard. It stood empty now. Moss and creeping vines grew on the limestone. I watched as Evan leaned out the window and pressed a card to an electronic reader.
With the evening gloom, the giant, sentinel-like pines towering over us, and the quaint stone gatehouse, I felt a little like I’d just entered the scene from a fairy tale. The security system Evan used seemed highly out of place, a technical anomaly in a Hans Christian Anderson tale. Attempted to use, I should say. I saw him press the card to the reader for the fourth time, his jaw tight. The gate didn’t budge. He cursed quietly.
“Here,” I said.