Thirty-Seven
thirty-seven
WHEN YOU SAY NOTHING AT ALL - ALISON KRAUSS
CALLIE - JULY 25, 2014
F or the first time in what feels like months, there are no tiny feet running down the hall, no giggles spilling out of the girls’ room, and no soft cries from Ruby stirring in her crib. It should feel like a relief, a chance to breathe, to focus. Instead, it’s unnerving, like something’s missing.
I run my hands down the soft fabric of my robe, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall. It’s just past nine, and the house feels impossibly big and empty without the kids. Sara and Ruby are with my mom for the night, so I can’t even hear the soft hum of Ruby’s sound machine or Sara’s tiny snores. My fingers twitch toward my phone, the urge to check in with my mom almost overwhelming, but I force myself to stop.
“They’re fine,” I murmur to myself, trying to quiet the irrational part of my brain. “Mom raised me and Taylor, didn’t she?”
The words barely settle the unease in my chest, and I find myself pacing the living room, my eyes catching on all the little reminders of the day ahead. My bouquet sits in a vase on the coffee table, the burlap and lace wrapping its stem catching the glow of the dim lamp. The dress bag hangs on the back of the hallway door, its outline a silent promise of tomorrow. My stomach twists with a mix of nerves and excitement, and I’m not sure which one is winning.
“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up,” Owen’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
I glance up to find him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a soft smile tugging at his lips. He’s already in sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, his hair still damp from his shower. The familiar, steady sight of him makes my chest ache in the best way.
“I can’t help it,” I admit, stopping mid-pace. “It’s too quiet and my brain won’t stop overthinking everything. What if we forgot something? What if the centerpieces look ridiculous? What if the girls miss us too much and don’t sleep?”
Owen crosses the room in three easy strides, his hands finding my waist as he pulls me close. “Callie,” he says gently, tilting my chin up so I’m looking at him. “Everything is going to be perfect. And even if it’s not, it’ll still be the best day of my life because I’m marrying you.”
The sincerity in his eyes is enough to make my throat tighten, and I have to blink back the sting of tears. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”
“It’s one of my many talents,” he says with a smirk, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.
I let out a shaky laugh, resting my hands against his chest. “You’re not nervous at all, are you?”
“Not even a little,” he says, his tone soft but steady. “The only thing I’m thinking about is how lucky I am that tomorrow, you’re going to be my wife.”
The way he says it—so sure, so full of love—wraps around me like a warm blanket. I lean into him, my cheek resting against his chest as his arms tighten around me. For a moment, the quiet isn’t so unsettling. It’s comforting. It’s us.
“You know,” Owen says after a beat, his voice lighter now, “I’ve been keeping something from you.”
I pull back, my brow furrowing. “Oh?”
He nods, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “It’s a surprise, but I can’t keep it in anymore. I figured… what better time than the night before our wedding?”
The soft hum of the truck engine fills the silence as we turn onto a gravel road. If I didn’t know any better, I would think my husband-to-be is leading me to the middle of nowhere. The headlights bounce over the uneven surface, illuminating trees on either side of us. I glance over at Owen, my curiosity bubbling over for the tenth time since we left the house.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?” I ask, tilting my head at him.
He smirks, his hands steady on the wheel. “Not yet. We’re almost there.”
I let out an exaggerated groan, crossing my arms. “You know I hate surprises.”
“You’ll love this one,” he says simply, his voice warm and sure.
The truck slows as we approach a turn, and the gravel crunches louder beneath the tires. I lean forward, trying to make sense of the dark shapes in the distance. It seems familiar, but I can’t quite place it until the truck comes to a stop and the headlights sweep over the barn.
Darling Ridge Farms
My breath catches in my throat as recognition washes over me. “Owen…” I whisper, my voice barely audible. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I stare at the barn, its weathered red paint glowing softly in the truck’s headlights. The dark shapes of the outbuildings and trees are silhouetted against the night sky, and the gravel road stretches into the shadows. My breath catches as I take it all in. “In all the times you’ve talked about this place I never expected it to be so… beautiful.”
Owen nods, gutting the engine and turning to me. “Still hate surprises?”
I shake my head, my hands gripping my knees as I try to process the sight before me. The farm is huge. There isn’t just one house and a barn–it’s a sprawling landscape of Owen’s childhood. He mentioned before that Vince and Malcolm still share the land out here. I never asked about coming because I thought the memories might be too painful. I know how much his Uncle Teddy meant to him. Him bringing me out here the night before our wedding means more to me than I could ever begin to explain.
“This place is… incredible,” I murmur, my voice thick with emotion. “I had no idea it was this big.”
Owen’s smile reaches his eyes, and he grabs my hand. “I know you’ll understand when I tell you that this place has always meant so much to me. Even though Teddy married into my mom’s family, he always treated me like one of his own sons.”
I understand completely what he means. The Van Damme Hawkridge Estate, where we will be wed tomorrow, has been in my family for generations. I sit there, in awe of him, in awe of this place. We stay silent for a long moment before he speaks.
“Did you know Teddy left this place in a trust for his boys after he passed away?”
“Yeah, you mentioned that. I’m so glad that they get to carry on his legacy. We will have to bring the kids out here when they are a little older so they can explore,” I insist.
“Or we could bring them out here a little sooner than that…”
“Well sure, I just mean–”
“Callie,” he says, gripping my hand three times in a silent I love you, and I squeeze his hand back twice in return. “There’s something that I haven’t told you.”
“Okay…” I say, hesitantly.
“There was another name on the trust.” My eyes go wide as he continues. “When you and I met, it was only a few months after Teddy died. I was sure he’d left me something but I asked Vince and Malcolm not to tell me. I wasn’t ready to hear it, because hearing what he’d left me would further solidify the fact that he was gone. That was something that, until recently, I wasn’t ready to fully accept.”
I hold his hand tightly as the weight of his words come out. His thumb brushes over mine, a small, grounding gesture that steadies us both. “So… what does all that mean exactly?”
“It means that a portion of the farm belongs to me, Callie.”
“Do you mean we can–”
He nods, leaning over to place a kiss to my forehead. “Yes, Callie. Can I show you?”
I nod, unable to form words as a lump rises in my throat. Owen’s hand is warm and steady in mine as he steps out of the truck, coming around to open my door. The cool night air brushes against my skin, carrying the faint scent of hay and damp earth. He helps me down, his touch grounding me, and I follow him across the gravel driveway toward the softly lit houses that dot the property.
“Over there,” he says, pointing toward a larger house set back from the others, its wide porch glowing under the soft light of a single bulb. “That’s Malcolm and Valerie’s place. The main house. It’s been in the family for generations, much like your mom’s place.”
I can just make out the outline of a swing set in the backyard, and I picture the laughter of children filling the air someday, the way Malcolm and Valerie will create new memories here. My heart swells as I realize just how much this place holds for Owen’s family.
“And that one,” Owen continues, nodding toward a smaller house tucked behind a grove of trees, “is Vince’s. He moved in a couple of years ago, right after everything with Teddy. It’s been good for him and Ainsley, having space to breathe out here.”
I smile at that, imagining Ainsley running through the fields, her laughter echoing in the open air. This place feels like it’s brimming with life, even in the stillness of the night.
“And this,” Owen says, his voice softening as he gestures to the house across the road, “is ours. Whenever you’re ready.”
My breath catches as I take in the sight before me. The house is modest but beautiful, its soft blue siding glowing faintly in the moonlight. A wide front porch stretches across the front, complete with a swing that sways gently in the breeze. The windows reflect the starlight above, and flower beds—bare for the winter—line the steps leading up to the door. It’s not just a house; it’s a home, waiting for us to fill it with love and memories.
“Owen…” I whisper, my voice trembling as I turn to him. “You’ve been working on this? For us?”
He nods, his gaze steady and full of love. “For you. For the girls. For our family. I’ve been fixing it up little by little, but I wanted it to feel like ours. Somewhere we can build a life together, on our terms.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I reach for him, my hands curling into the fabric of his jacket. “This is… it’s perfect. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Just know that it’s here for us, whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush, Callie. I’m happy wherever you are.”
My tears spill over, and I press my forehead against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart calm the whirlwind of emotions inside me. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
He chuckles softly, his hand running up and down my back. “I just want to give you the life you deserve. That we deserve.”
I pull back, wiping at my cheeks as I look up at him. “Can we see inside?”
His smile widens, and he takes my hand again, leading me across the road. The porch steps creak under our weight, and he pushes open the door, the faint scent of fresh paint and wood filling the air. The interior is warm and inviting, with hardwood floors stretch through the open living room and kitchen. A stone fireplace anchors the living room, its mantle bare but full of potential. The kitchen is simple but perfect, with a farmhouse sink and wide windows that overlook the property.
“I kept it simple,” Owen says, his voice soft as he watches me take it all in. “Figured we’d make it ours together. Add the touches that make it feel like home.”
I step into the living room, running my fingers along the edge of the fireplace mantle. “It already feels like home,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “Because of you.”
He crosses the room in a few steps, pulling me into his arms again. “Wherever we are, as long as we’re together, that’s home.”
I tilt my head up, my lips brushing against his as the weight of the moment wraps around us. This house, this land, this man—it’s everything I didn’t know I wanted until now.As he deepens the kiss, I know without a doubt that our future begins here, in this house, on this land, with this love. And I can’t wait to see where it takes us.