Family Tree by Susan Wiggs Read Free Book Online Page B

landscape of Rush Mountain, the view looking westward at sunset in early autumn. The sky had a special radiance at that time of year, touching the meadows and treetops with fire and lengthening theshadows in the valley leading downward to the town of Switchback. She had caught the light just so, managing to convey its fleeting nature.
    Ethan had never liked the place, even though it had been their home for eighteen years. After they married and she got pregnant so quickly with Kyle, Ethan had stayed out of obligation. He’d left as soon as their son was old enough to take over the farm.
    â€œWhy is it your favorite?” she asked without looking at him.
    â€œBecause your heart’s in it,” he said, simply and unexpectedly. “And because Annie always loved the view from your studio.”
    Caroline couldn’t argue with that. She had done a similar canvas for Annie as a wedding gift.
    Their daughter had been breathtaking on her wedding day. All brides were. But Annie was the kind of beautiful that cut like a knife, imparting a sweet pain that made Caroline clasp her hands together in a stranglehold. She hadn’t bothered to hold back her tears as Annie appeared on the secluded, rock-bound California beach at sunset. The setting was so different from Vermont, like another country. Another planet. Yet Annie’s expression, so full of hope, had been the same expression she’d worn every Christmas morning when she was little.
    Why did joy bring the same tears as sadness? Why did the throat and chest ache with fire, regardless? Was it because, deep down, everyone knew it was fragile and ephemeral? Did the tears come from the knowledge that everything could turn in the blink of an eye?
    Caroline knew that happiness could be destroyed in the time it took a tractor to overturn in a ditch. The time it took for a husband to say, “I’m leaving.”
    The time it took for a piece of equipment to drop on a young woman’s head.
    She looked over at the bed. Ethan sat quietly beside Annie, gazing into her unmoving face the way Caroline had done for so many hours.As if he felt Caroline watching him, he turned on the rolling stool. “What time will the doctor come?”
    â€œThey never give you a specific time,” she said. The silence between them felt awkward, so she switched on the music, a playlist she’d made of songs she thought Annie would like. “How Do You Talk to an Angel” came through the speaker—an unfortunate selection, because it triggered a memory of Ethan, lip-synching the song as he acted it out with exaggerated gestures to make his little daughter laugh.
    Did Ethan remember those moments? Did certain songs give rise to indelible memories within him? Did he ever think about the lost sweetness of their family life? Or did he only recall the stale discontent, the yearning for something different?
    â€œWhere are you staying?” she asked him, deciding it was best to stick with neutral topics. She didn’t want to know anything personal about him. She didn’t want him to know anything about her life. Yet when he looked at her even now, he seemed to know everything about her.
    â€œHotel across the way—it’s a Best Western, I think. Next week, I’ll move to my folks’ place up in Milton.”
    â€œKyle said your dad has finally decided to retire,” she said.
    â€œThat’s right. He’s looking for a buyer for the business.”
    Ethan’s father was an independent grocery distributor. That was how Caroline had met him, when he was driving a truck for his father’s outfit and came to Rush Mountain for a shipment of maple syrup. The logo on the side of the truck— Lickenfelt Fine Foods —had made her smile, because it was such a funny name.
    She pushed aside the memory. “Oh. I hope he finds someone to take over. Kyle brought him and Wilma to see Annie a couple of times.”
    They ran out of