Caroline couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt as carefree and happy. Maybe never. After the carousel, Weston bought cotton candy.
Later, they ended up on the dance floor amid other Eastern Shore couples beneath the twinkling lights of the carnival. But she saved the best for last—the Ferris wheel. They slipped into the seat as the carnival operator snapped the bar in place across them.
Upward, the car swung. They held hands as other passengers were loaded. Stop and then go. The car swayed. Up and over again.
Stars studded the night sky. The harbor lights glowed, outlining the harbor. Below, tiny beacons of light alleviated the darkness of the water and shoreline. Illuminating homes, where families lived together and loved each other.
From up here, she felt that she could see forever. Here, she could believe in forever. Love this man and his daughter forever.
Here, she could face another one of her fears head-on. As the counselor and the reverend had advised if she wanted to be free of the chains keeping her bound. To share with someone who mattered about the dark secret that haunted her.
God, help me. And dug her fingers into her palms.
She took a deep breath. “I have panic attacks, Weston. And I had a serious bout with depression.”
He turned from his contemplation of their Eastern Shore world.
She fretted the bracelets on her wrist. “When my mother died, I was about to graduate from Tech. At the funeral was the first time it happened.”
Caroline forced herself not to look away. To face her fear of disclosure. “I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The pain, the grief, was so bad I had to get away for fear I might die, too.”
He sighed. “I know something about that level of grief.” He draped his arm around her shoulders. “I can understand why you felt you had to leave.”
“I wanted to die with her, Weston.” She flung out her hands. “I had this overwhelming urge to throw myself in the open grave with her. That’s when I knew I had to get away or...” She gulped.
He pulled her against him. In the solid buttress of his arms, his warmth, his strength enabled Caroline to say what she’d needed to say to someone for years.
“I was drowning emotionally. Daddy was lost in his grief, and my sisters were so torn up. I stopped calling because their sorrow only took me further into the black hole every time we talked. When I was offered a graduate fellowship, I moved farther away.”
She knotted her hands. “As long as I kept working and didn’t think about the grief, I managed to stay two steps ahead of the darkness.”
“Did it help?”
“Only for a little while. But hiding—masking—what I was feeling inside, I did reckless things. Things I’m ashamed of. Anything to climb out of the hole.” Her voice shuddered. “To escape the abyss. To feel better.”
“If only temporarily.”
She looked at him. A sea breeze ruffled his short-cropped hair. “I understand the empty places your wife tried to fill.”
He tensed. “You’re nothing like Jessica.”
“Sadly, Weston, I am.” She raised her eyes. “But I’m done with running. I hit rock bottom. Three years ago, I scared myself and Roland’s wife, Danielle. They forced me to get help.”
“What happened?”
Dark fear and nausea churned in her belly, fighting with her desire to tell him the truth. Would he distrust her after she shared what she’d done? Honesty had forestalled any hope of a relationship she might have attempted in the intervening years with other men.
“I was hospitalized for a few weeks.” She studied the sparks of light glimmering across the shoreline. “The doctors diagnosed me with clinical depression after...” She edged away and put space between them.
He held on to her arm, refusing to let her drift far. “No matter what you say, Caroline, I—”
She wrenched free. “You need to see what I did.” She steeled herself and pushed the braided wristbands farther along her forearm. “I tried to kill myself.”
Weston gave a quick intake of breath at the sight of the pale, thin scar on her arm.
Her heart jackhammered as she waited for his reaction. She felt in that moment as if her whole life hung in the balance. His next words might decide the course of the rest of her life. Forever.
“That’s why you didn’t come home, isn’t it?” he whispered.
When she believed she might die from not being able to see into his eyes, he looked up and caught her gaze. The compassion in his face almost undid her.
“But afterward?” he rasped. “Why didn’t you come home later? Your family loves you. Family and God got me through what happened with Jessica.”
“I was sorry as soon as I’d done it.” Tears burned Caroline’s eyes. “I was ashamed at how weak I’d been. How broken. But how could God love me when I couldn’t even—” Her eyes flitted toward the distant horizon where the darkness and the ocean merged.
He touched her arm, lying upturned and exposed across her lap. “But to endure this alone...”
“You’ve met my dad and Amelia. The both of them, Duer tough. Which I am not. My family had enough to carry without having to deal with my problems. I’ve spent years in therapy confronting my grief and the past.”
She bit her lip. “But I’m a lot better. The darkness doesn’t come as often. Most times, like today, I’m able to avert the anxiety attacks. I’m so much better. Really well, Wes. Cured.”
“Which is why you finally came home. Now.”
“God gave me a second chance at life.” She lifted her chin. “This last year, because of my rediscovered faith I realized I had to come home, if only to finally face the last of my fears. To make amends to those I’ve hurt.”
“Caroline—”
“But I wanted you to know before you...” She dropped her eyes to the bracelets. “Before we went any further. So you could bow out before—”
The Ferris wheel swung into motion, and the car lurched. Both of them grabbed for the bar.
He pressed his shoulder against hers. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way, Turtle Lady. I think I’m falling in love with you, Caroline.”
“You shouldn’t.”
He pried one of her hands off the steel bar. “Too late.”
“I’m so sorry, Weston.” She quivered. “Just your luck, to always pick the crazy ones.”
The Ferris wheel whirled into motion once more.
“Don’t say that about yourself. I’ve told you about my past. The mistakes I’ve made. I’d never judge you for what happened. I have scars, too. They just aren’t as visible.”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to see me again. I understand.”
That was a lie. She wouldn’t be okay never seeing him again. But he didn’t need to know that. This wasn’t his problem. It was hers.
He shook his head and crushed her against him. “It wouldn’t be okay with me to never see you again. Nor for Izzie, either.”
“Izzie...” Emptiness filled Caroline. “She deserves a real mother, not someone as scarred as...”
Both hands on her shoulders, he angled Caroline to face him as the wheel picked up speed. “I’m afraid you’re it, Turtle Lady. She’s already picked you.”
Tears pinpricked Caroline’s eyes. “I’m no good for her or you.”
He took hold of her hand. His eyes never leaving hers, his mouth brushed the skin on her wrist. And his lips kissed her scar. Softly. Tenderly.
A thousand shimmering sensations exploded in Caroline’s heart. The wheel completed another turn.
“Trust me, Caroline...” His hand caught in her hair, and his fingers rubbed a wisp of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. “Trust yourself.”
His gaze traced the pattern of her features and lingered. “Trust us.”
“Why would you want me in your life, Weston? I’m just a turtle lady. And far more damaged than any of my turtle princesses.” The car rocked to a stop at the top of the Ferris wheel.
He cradled her face in his hands. “Because you’re my beautiful turtle lady.”
And his mouth found hers. His mouth tasted of mint as his beard stubble sandpapered her cheek. But his lips, his touch, were gentle and undemanding. He paused, giving her time to pull away or not. Giving her the freedom to choose him. Or not.
Silencing her fears, Caroline leaned into him, placing her arms around his neck. And as the Ferris wheel carried them toward earth once more, she kissed him again underneath the glittering stars of her beloved Eastern Shore home.