Chapter 14
Mace
Days Later
Tousled around the front seat of Slade’s Jeep, I did my best to point out each rut in the dirt road until I realized he took my direction as action, purposefully hitting the biggest divots in the road.
Slade may have grown up in parts like mine, but he hadn’t spent too much time traveling this style of road.
“Am I really bad at driving dirt roads, or is this particular road more difficult?” Slade asked as I anchored a hand on the dash to keep me in the seat.
“Yes, you’re particularly bad at driving on an old country road. Take a right up here. That’s the driveway to my house,” I said, pointing him that direction.
“You were right. You should have driven.”
Unable to keep the grin from spreading, I said, “You apologize a lot.”
“That’s a you thing, I promise you.” A telltale sign of his truth was that Slade’s fists tightened on the steering wheel.
On the turn into the long driveway, I focused on finding the answer to that cryptic statement he’d also used many times over.
“Why apologize to me?” We were halfway up the drive. My house was just beyond a cluster of trees, hidden in the forestry of my property.
“I don’t know. I decided to go with it because I sure as hell don’t understand it. Where’s your house?” he asked.
Mission accomplished. No one knew where I lived unless they already knew where I lived.
“You’ll see,” I said and fisted the finger I used to point that direction. He’d see it soon enough.
“Is it a safety issue that has you…” Slade’s words died off as a smaller—especially in connection to Slade’s home—ranch-style house opened to view. A property I built by myself. Minus the minimalist look of the landscape, it had all the elements of a perfect place to live for the rest of my life.
The sadness that brought this land to me wasn’t the first thing I felt any longer. I’d lived here and worked the land long enough that the whys and hows that got me here weren’t the first thing I thought of when seeing my home.
It was a slow build. The inside wasn’t ready to live in except for the living room, bathroom, and kitchen. I stayed in those rooms and worked on something inside the house most days that I was here.
“I think you’re taking advantage of me being so smitten. I’m not sure I believe you built this house,” Slade said, his gaze focused on the brick, wood, and stone-covered structure.
The colors were various states of brown with an accent of cream and forest green. Those choices weren’t made based on trends, only how it might look amongst all the trees and blend into nature.
“Did you work with a professional decorator?”
“No. I build what I like.” My chuckle hid the pride I felt at the compliment.
“Mace, this is something else. Do I pull to the front?” he asked.
“Or stop here so I’m no longer knocked around your vehicle. It feels abusive,” I teased.
Slade let that suggestion stick and pressed on the brakes, coming to a stop about fifty feet from the house.
He shifted into park with his gaze still fixed on the house.
In a time of extreme growth and uncertainty landing on me really quickly, I was there in that unstable place again.
This time, my heart burst with pride. It was getting increasingly difficult to hide all these happiness bombs erupting over me these days.
“You can drive home,” Slade offered, pushing open the door to his side of the Jeep and stepping out.
I rarely had a chance to just stare at Slade, he was the one always looking at me, but this was one of those times.
I took in everything about him. The intense summer heat never seemed to touch him.
He was fresh and energetic all the time.
Slade chose to wear blue jeans that looked made for his long frame.
He wore a brown belt that I guessed was expensive, but I couldn’t place why I thought that.
The straps and bangles at his wrist were made of the same coloring of his dark jeans and T-shirt stretched like a glove over his taut chest. His profile was everything.
The strong, shaved jaw, pouty lips, and dark cap of hair on his head fit perfectly with sunglasses that helped frame his face.
He was beautiful. The only way I knew to describe my feelings was to say the shedding of all my self-doubt and the resurgence of my lost emotions further freed me as I took Slade in.
The sun shone brighter. That bright light seemed to start and end with the man absorbed into the making of my home.
His light no longer scared me. I wasn’t healing in a complex way that brought forward all the hard feelings to be dealt with.
Slade was responsible for my good vibes, absolutely he was.
“Why’re you still in the cab?” Slade called out, one foot on the front porch step as he twisted back toward me. “Can I go inside?”
Luckily, all this newfound reality didn’t have me jumping from the Jeep then skipping my way to him. I held my cool. At least the persona I had while around Slade, and left the vehicle, nodding my chin toward the house. “So you like what you see?”
“It’s shocking to believe you did all this completely by yourself. I don’t know if I still believe that.” The way Slade stood at the base of the entry to my home, made it feel different. Slade was full of class, making my home feel a bit more upscale.
I didn’t speak until I took the steps up, walking past him. “I’ve worked on this house for six or seven years. After the accident, I pulled inside myself so completely I’ve lived my life alone. I don’t have a lot of money, so I bought building supplies when things went on sale.”
“Did you buy the lumber?” Slade asked. The guy always paid attention to me. Of course, he’d remember about the wood I used in the rocking chairs.
“I did, but not all.” I pushed open the front door. “When it’s complete, it’ll be a semi-open, twenty-six hundred square foot house. I took the plumbing out back to create a backyard, outside kitchen, and maybe a swimming pool someday.”
I held the front door open as he came inside.
For many reasons, I watched him take in the living room and kitchen.
The kitchen was pretty well put together.
Not an incredible kitchen, but I did have cabinets, an island, lots of accent lighting and different features that helped make the area especially custom built.
The living room had the same continuous tile floor, and my queen-size bed was in the middle of the room. I had blinds covering those windows.
Due to my mom’s insistence of cleaning my house, the entire place, all the concrete floors and 2x4’s framing exposed, were clean with no dust lingering. My clothes hung on a portable clothes hanger. My bed was made, and they regularly stocked a few items I enjoyed eating.
“Mace, this is incredible,” Slade said, taking a full turn to see everything. “Explain all this. Is the air conditioning on?”
I nodded and closed the door on the question. Air conditioning cost me loads of cash this time of year.
“It’s three bedrooms.” I pointed to the back of the house and started that way.
“Three baths. Two bedrooms are on this side of the house along with the main bathroom, I guess. My bedroom’s on the other side of the living room.
It’s a bigger room that has an entrance from the backyard. There’s no garage.”
“All the rooms are large,” Slade said, following behind me but stepping into each room we passed. “Sheetrock, eventually?”
“Yeah, I planned to work on that this winter,” I said, tucking my hands inside my pockets.
“If we did it now, it could fill some of my time,” Slade said, his excited eyes resting on mine. “You want a second set of hands or is it something you want to do alone?”
“No, I’d use the help, but can you build?” I asked, suddenly stopping, watching Slade’s relaxed gait coming to me.
“You could show me how,” Slade suggested. That same motivated gaze did another three sixty again. “You have to know that I have so many questions.”
My laugh followed as we continued the tour. From this angle, looking out into the backyard where most of the construction happened, Slade caught the sight of the barn.
“That looks newish too. Was that for Wildflower?” The expression on Slade’s face turned concerned as he glanced back at me. “Did you have this place back then? You were young.”
My long-standing refusal to discuss the past events didn’t seem to apply to Slade. Once the floodgates opened, I couldn’t seem to shut up. “Wildflower never lived here.”
“Is this your family’s property?” Slade asked, intrusively going there. I liked that about him, never having to guess where he stood on matters.
“Sort of. Natalie’s family owned the land.
She got the land from her grandfather when he died.
We lived here in an old camper a few months before she died.
Her family liked me. I helped them believe Natalie was a normal teenager, not the excessive party girl she became.
I know it sounds lame,” I said, waving a hand through the air to get Slade to follow me into the backyard.
“It’s not lame, but how did you get the land?” he asked, his footsteps following behind me.
“They gave it to me to help keep mine and Natalie’s dreams alive.”
“You were really planning to live a life hidden from the world?” he asked, grasping the edge to the door I opened. A hand on my lower back urged me outside.