The Courage Tree

The Courage Tree

by Diane Chamberlain


View All Available Formats & Editions
Want it by Monday, November 26 Order now and choose Expedited Shipping during checkout.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780778327417
Publisher: MIRA Books
Publication date: 04/01/2009
Edition description: Original
Pages: 400
Sales rank: 226,310
Product dimensions: 5.10(w) x 7.80(h) x 1.30(d)

About the Author

Diane Chamberlain is the bestselling author of twenty novels, including The Midwife's Confession and The Secret Life of CeeCee Wilkes. Diane lives in North Carolina and is currently at work on her next novel. Visit her Web site at and her blog at and her Facebook page at

Read an Excerpt


She would have no music where she was going.

    Zoe stood in the center of her living room, with its vaulted ceilings, white carpeting and glassed-wall view of the Pacific Ocean, and stared, transfixed by the huge speaker in the corner of the room. She'd come to terms with the fact that she would lose the beach and the smell of the sea. She knew she could live without television—gladly without television and its bevy of new, young talent—and she could live without newspapers and magazines. But no music? It suddenly seemed like a deal breaker. But then her eyes drifted to the picture of Marti, where it rested on the top of the baby grand piano. Marti had been twenty in that picture, standing next to Max on the beach. She was near Max, but not touching him, and there was no sense of connection between father and daughter, as though each of their pictures had been taken separately and then spliced together. It disturbed Zoe to see that distance between them. If the picture had been of herself and Marti, would they look equally as detached from one another? she wondered. She feared that they would. It was time to change that.

    In her boyish way, Marti looked beautiful in the picture. Zoe studied the short cap of blond hair, the compact, small-breasted body, huge blue eyes and long dark lashes that gave away Marti's identity as a female, and Zoe knew she was making the right decision. In a choice between music and Marti, there was no contest. Everything else in the universe paled in comparison to Zoe's need to save her daughter.

    She turnedaway from the wall of stereo equipment and began climbing the broad spiral staircase to the second story, her resolve once again intact. It was quite simple, really, leaving forever. She had planned well ahead and now had no need even to pack a suitcase. What could she possibly put in a suitcase that would last her the rest of her life? Besides, someone might realize a suitcase was missing. Unlikely, since she had an entire room on the third story filled with luggage; but still, it was possible, and she couldn't take that chance.

    She walked into Max's bedroom. She and Max had slept together for the forty years of their marriage, but they'd each had their own bedroom in addition to the master suite they'd shared. Their separate rooms had been for times alone, times of renewal and refreshment, for reading without disturbing one another, for making phone calls late into the night when one of them was working on a project. It was in Max's room where she knew she would find exactly what she needed.

    Opening the door to Max's walk-in closet, she was startled by the spicy aroma that enveloped her. Max's aftershave still filled this room, four full months after his death. She had not touched the clothes that hung in neat rows along the walls of the closet since that miserable day in November, and they slowly took on a blurred, surrealistic shape before her eyes. How was it that scent could instantly evoke so much pain? So many memories? But no time for them now. She brushed her hand across her eyes as she pulled the step stool from the corner of the closet toward the shelves in the rear. Climbing onto the stool, she reached toward the back of the top shelf.

    Her hand felt the soft-sided rifle case, and she wrapped her fingers around it and drew it down from the shelf. Climbing off the stool, she rested the green case containing Max's rifle carefully, gingerly, on the carpeted floor of the closet, then returned to her perch on the stool. Reaching onto the shelf once again, she found the box of bullets, then the Beretta pistol and a few loose clips. Never before had she touched these guns, and she hadn't approved of Max having them. Probably the only thing they'd ever disagreed about.

    "Max Garson's death marks the end of one of the longest running and, by all accounts, most harmonious marriages in Hollywood," People magazine had written.

    For the most part, that had been a highly accurate assessment. And right now, Zoe was glad Max had defied her when it came to the guns. She was doubly glad she had told her friends about the rifle and the pistol and where they were hidden. They would tell the police, and the police would discover the guns were missing. Perfect.

    The police would no doubt talk to Bonita, the therapist Zoe had seen for "grief counseling," as well. Zoe had not needed to employ her acting skills to fake her symptoms of depression.

    "Do you think about suicide?" Bonita had asked her on one recent visit, when Zoe had been particularly tearful.

    "Yes," she had nodded truthfully.

    "Do you have a plan?" Bonita asked.

    The question had shaken Zoe for an instant. How could Bonita possibly know? But then she realized Bonita was asking her if she had considered how she would end her life. Nothing more than that.

    "No," she had answered, knowing full well that if she said she had a plan, Bonita would arrange to have her locked up someplace, and wouldn't the tabloids have a field day with that. Zoe most certainly did have a plan. Just not the sort of plan to which Bonita was alluding.

    She carried the guns into the bedroom and caught sight of herself in the mirror above the dresser. The image horrified her. She looked completely ridiculous. Her long blond hair fell across the rifle case, her deep bangs hung all the way to her eyelashes, and there was something about the lighting in the room that made her skin look sallow, her eyes sunken. She was a large woman. She'd always been tall and full-figured, and back in her James Bond days, she'd been considered voluptuous, but now she was simply big. Amazonian. An aging sex goddess. She had bristled when she'd read those words about herself somewhere, but suddenly, she understood them to be the truth. Who had she been trying to kid, still wearing her hair the way she had when she was twenty-five, coloring the heck out of it to mask the gray? She looked away from the mirror and headed for the stairs. There would be no more two-hundred-dollar trips to the beauty salon in her future, and the thought was rather liberating.

    Downstairs, she walked through the kitchen and out into the garage, where she rested the guns on the back seat of her silver Mercedes. Returning to the house, she sat down at the dining room table and gave her attention to what would be her final—and most difficult—task in this home she had cherished for so many years.

    Staring down at the sheet of cream-colored parchment on the table in front of her, she picked up the Pelikan fountain pen Marti had given her several Christmases ago, on a day when the world had still seemed benevolent and the future still held promise. She rested the nib of the pen on the paper.

    I see no choice but to end my life, on this, the eve of my sixtieth birthday, she wrote. Leaning away from the paper, cocking her head to the side, she noted that her penmanship looked like that of an old woman. Her hand quivered above the page.

    "Pathetic old cow," she muttered to herself, then continued writing.

    My life is not worth much anymore. My beloved husband is dead; my daughter has been wrongly, cruelly imprisoned for the murder of Tara Ashton; the tabloids persist in noting each new wrinkle on my face, and I'm losing my singing voice. Although my acting skills are at their peak, they go unrecognized these days. Parts that once would have come to me are now given to actresses much younger than myself.

    Zoe stopped writing for a moment and looked out the window toward the ocean. That last sentence made her sound small and bitter. She could leave it out, but then she would have to start the letter all over again. And what did she care what anyone thought of her at this point? She laughed at the bruised ego, the irritating narcissism that had dogged her these past few years and that seemed intent on following her to her counterfeit grave.

    What do I have left to live for? she began writing again. I hope to take my life somewhere where I won't be found. I don't want to be seen in that condition. Marti, I'm sorry, darling. I'm so sorry I failed you. I tried every possible avenue I could to help you prove your innocence, but the system has failed both of us. The tears were quick to come this time. One fell on the paper, and she blotted it from the word innocence with the side of her hand.

    She had failed Marti—in far too many ways—choosing the demands of her career over the needs of her daughter at every turn, placing Marti's day-to-day care in the hands of nannies, sending her off to boarding school to let someone else deal with her moods and her mischief.

    Suspicion would never have fallen on you had you not been my daughter, she wrote. Zoe's daughter. I love you, dearest. Zoe's breath caught in her throat, and she stared out the window at the sea for a long moment before continuing. Be strong, she wrote. All my love, Mother.

    Moving the sheet of paper to the center of the table, she stood up, blotting her damp palms on her khaki-covered thighs. Her knees barely held her upright as she walked toward the garage, and her entire body trembled now, from the gravity of the lies she had just committed to writing, and from the fear of the journey she was about to make.

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

See All Customer Reviews

Courage Tree 4.1 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 27 reviews.
Guest More than 1 year ago
Really touching, really thrilling, really amazing. In one word: PERFECT! Chamberlain is the author I've been waiting to read over and over again. - Vincent Labadie
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This is a fantastic book! I could not put it down and everyone that I have recommended it to has felt the same way. This was my second book of Diane Chamberlain's and I have already bought the rest of them.
harstan More than 1 year ago
In Virginia, a desperate Janine Donahue accepts an alternative medicine to help her dying eight-year-old child Sophie with her kidney disease. Janine already feels guilty over the stillborn death of her child years ago and she believes that her role in the Arabian Peninsula caused the damage to Sophie. When the child seems to have improved by using Herbalina, Janine allows Sophie to go to an overnight Brownie camp over the objections of her parents and her ex-spouse Joe.

However, something went wrong as the scout leader, another child, and Janine never make it back to the pick-up point where Sophie waits in a state of panic. The police become involved and Sophie searches for her lost child. Her parents and Joe condemn Janine, who knows the trio plans to force her to give up custody in a court battle. Only the strange Lucas Trowell seems to be on Janine¿s side. Will they find the lost child in time because Sophie desperately needs her medicine and dialysis now?

THE COURAGE TREE is a powerful relationship suspense novel centering on the fear adults feel for their children, especially an ailing child. The story line pulls out all the punches, as Janine with the exception of Lucas feels alone with her parents and Joe piling on the guilt. The subplot involving the aging amazon actress adds little to an already stalwart, poignant drama. Still, Diana Chamberlain shows her abilities with this deep taut thriller.

Harriet Klausner

Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This was my second book to read by Chamberlain, and I can officially say I am hooked! I am a big Jodi Picoult fan, but having finished all of her books, I searched for similar authors and came across this author. She has a completely different style to her writing and her characters carry quite different personality traits than Picoult's, but something about their writing is similar. This story had me guessing right up to the end, but carefully placed, subtle clues had me on the right track. I stayed up all night to get to the end...yes, I felt it was THAT interesting, and the ending was worth the trade of sleep! Characters are well developed, story is engaging from page 1 to the ending, and my emotions were evoked as I read. I definitely recommend!
teacher47 More than 1 year ago
Much was predicable , but there were so many twists and turns that kept me turning the pages. For an enjoyable book, i would recommend it.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I will admit that in the beginning it seemed to drag a little for me, but it's one of those you need to read the first few chapters to get it. Once I got through the first few chapters I started getting into it and before I knew it I finished the book. I do reccommend this book along with all of Diane Chamberlain's books.
Guest More than 1 year ago
I just finished reading this book and I could not put it down. I recommend it for anyone who has a sick child or has ever been a sick child themselves. A wonderful blend of intrigue, good story telling, and human spirit.
Anonymous 21 days ago
I enjoyed this book. Nice easy read
Anonymous 3 months ago
I love all ofDiane Chamberlain’s books. As I read them each one is better and better.
CherylM-M More than 1 year ago
This is a mother-centric plot. Two families with mothers at the helm of two stories that eventually connect. The first is about two parents colliding when it comes to the medical care of their sick child. I just want to have a wee grumble at Janine's parents. I mean come on now, her own parents act as if her ex-hubby is their son and they treat their own daughter like a 15 yr old with the mental capacity of a gnat. No insult intended towards gnats. I would have liked to have seen Janine assert herself in some way when it came to her ex and her parents. That did not happen. Annoying and a complete paradox from a personality perspective in relation to her being a veteran helicopter pilot with combat experience. So flying and taking down the enemy is no problem but she cowers at each word uttered by her parents. Strange that Chamberlain chose to make Janine such a wishy-washy character, despite depicting her as a mother who defies all to try and get her daughter healthy. Then you have the contradiction of everyone being sidetracked by secondary issues during the search for Sophie. You're a parent and your child is missing does anything take precedence over that? Simultaneously we have the story of the middle-aged famous actress Zoe. She is willing to give up everything to protect her child and compensate for past mistakes. Motherly love and the boundaries that love is willing to cross regardless of the consequences. Of course the story also questions whether those boundaries are crossed because of the egotism of the parent, the welfare of the child or perhaps a combination of the two. I received a copy of this book courtesy of Harlequin MIRA.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Diane Chamberlain writes in a way that makes it so easy to get caught up in the story. This book is no exception. A definite must-read!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago