KEEPING CAROLINE

Chapter One

"So," Caroline finally said just because she couldn't stand another moment of silence. "How've you been?"

"Fine." He was lying. She could see it.

"How've you been?" he countered.

"Fine."

The clock on the mantel ticked away fifteen seconds.

"Let's not--" she started.

"Don't--" Matt said at the same time.

He held up his hand obligingly. "You first."

"Let's not do this, Matt. Sit here like polite old acquaintances with nothing to talk about at the class reunion. We were married for God's sake."

"We're still married."

The hard edge in his voice caught her like a kick in the chest. "So we are. Is that why you're here?"

He bent and pulled a thick yellow envelope out of his duffel. It landed on the table with a thud. "It's time to get on with our lives," he said.

She didn't reach out. Wouldn't touch it. Couldn't.

"I think you'll find the settlement fair," he said.

"I have no doubt." She bit her lip. This shouldn't be so hard. She was the one who left him thirteen months ago. But still, the reality of the papers in front of her took her breath away.

"You don't have to worry about money," he said. "I'll take care of you."

Unable to sit another second, she swung out of her chair. "Is that what you think I worry about? Money?" The wood beneath the worn linoleum flooring creaked as she paced. In truth, she did worry about money. She worried about money a lot. The old house she'd inherited needed so many repairs...

Busy with her own life, Caroline had nearly let it fall into ruin in the years she'd been in Port Kingston with Matt. Now all her dreams depended on this house. Her future.

But Matt wouldn't be interested in her dreams. Or her future.

"Do you think I left because of money?" she asked, proud that her voice didn't break.

Matt lowered his head. "I know you wanted...other things. Things I couldn't give you."

"Things?" That did it. She squared off in front of him. "You can't even say the word, can you?"

Slowly he raised his gaze. Penetrated her with that clear, blue, dead stare. Matt had always been a master at hiding what he was really feeling behind those placid eyes. It's what made him such a good negotiator.

And such a lousy husband.

"You wanted a baby," he said flatly.

"I wanted to be a mother again. To hear a child cry because she didn't get her way, not because she was in pain. To her her laugh." Caroline's fingers curled into fists so tight her fingernails scraped her palms. "Do you remember what a child's laughter sounds like? Because I didn't. Not until I came here. I only remembered the wails. The terror."

He gripped his glass so tightly she was afraid it would shatter. "Brad is dead, Caro. We have to move on."

Anger ripped through her as she tore open the envelope and scanned the divorce papers. "You call this fair?" she asked a moment later.

"What's wrong with it?"

"You won't have enough money left to feed you dog, much less yourself. How are you going to pay the rent, put gas in the car, if you give me every cent you make?"

"I want you to be taken care of."

"But you don't want to take care of me." She regretted the bite in her tone, and took a deep breath. "I've let you take care of me most of my life. Maybe it's time I took care of myself."

She dropped the papers on the table before him.

Instead of picking them up, he stood. Reached for her hands and squeezed her fingers in his. She trembled.

"Let me do this for you."

"No." But she didn't pull away. Under the scent of dust and honest sweat on him, she could smell his musky aftershave. The aftershave she kept a bottle of on her dresser, just so she could open it now and then and breathe him in, even though he wasn't there.

She gave in to the scent and inhaled. God, it had been so long.

"It's the only thing I can do for you," he said.

"You want to help me?"

"Yes," he insisted. But he'd hesitated, and she knew what he was thinking. He thought she was going to beg him for a baby again, the way she had before she'd left. But she wasn't. She wouldn't ever beg again.

"Then keep your money." She pulled her hand away. "And lend me your strong back. I'm trying to open a business in this house, and look at it. It's a wreck."

His gaze trailed over the peeling wallpaper. The outdated appliances. Blue eyes burned with suspicion. "What kind of business?"

"A daycare center."

As she'd expected, his eyes widened in horror before he shuttered out the reaction. She didn't really want to hurt him, but she would like to shake him up. To make him see what he was missing in life.

"For special kids," she pushed on, watching for any further reaction from him. Hoping to see some spark of life, but finding no such sign. "Like Jeb."

Disappointed, she nodded toward the window, where her first student sat pushing a toy truck over a dirt pile.

"Blind kids?" Matt asked.

"Jeb's visually impaired, not blind. But yes, for blind kids and developmentally challenged kids. Kids with illnesses and kids from high-risk homes. Remember what a hard time we had finding someone to keep Brad, even for a few hours, while we met with the doctors?" She didn't have to see the deepening of the creases at the corners of his mouth to know he remembered. "If it hadn't been for your family, I don't know what we would have done. I want to help parents that don't have that kind of support. All the little ones who need some extra TLC will be welcome here."

Matt stared out the window, but Caroline didn't think he really saw. "That's a lot to take on. Those kinds of problems."

"They're not problems. They're children. But I've got to get this place fixed up and pass a state licensing inspection before I can really open. I've only got until the end of May to get ready."

"And you want me to help you?"

"You're good with your hands." Heat suffused her stomach. He was very good with his hands, as she remembered. "And you like this kind of work. At least you used to."

"If I fix this place up, you'll sign the papers? As they're written?"

"I'll negotiate with you on the settlement. We'll come up with something fair. That's the best promise you're going to get from me."

Matt stared at the warped linoleum. "Work--"

"Unless your habits have changed, you've taken exactly one day of leave in the last five years--the day we buried Brad."

Pain swam across his face, but he hid it quickly.

"I think the department owes you some time off."

"My sister is getting married in a few weeks. I have to be there."

"It's only a two-and-a-half hour drive. You can go back anytime you want to."

Matt turned to the window, where a swallow landed on the birdfeeder outside. "She was disappointed you didn't RSVP."

Caroline's heart fluttered like the wings of the tiny bird Matt had been watching. She'd been close to Matt's sister, Paige. They'd gone to school together. She'd love to go to Paige's wedding, but she could hardly show up at the church with a baby in tow.

A baby no one in its daddy's family--including its daddy--knew existed.

A few weeks, that was all she was asking after fifteen years of marriage. Time to judge Matt's state of mind. To figure out how he would react when she told him the choice whether or not to have another child had been taken out of his hands.

God had made the decision for him fourteen months ago, the last time Matt had made love to Caroline.

"One month," she said, swallowing a lump of apprehension. "You give me one month of hard labor. I'll give you your divorce."