Chapter Thirteen
The daily hustle and bustle had settled into a tranquil lull as Wyler drove slowly on the narrow back country road toward Shaw Lane. Buying the house had been an impulsive buy. Well, not really. He’d been fishing down by the river and saw it and had an idea that he’d like to own it. The location was great, not too far from Willow Wild and Sagebrush Rose.
He also had to prove to Liberty that he was there to stay.
Liberty was sitting in the passenger seat and seemed a bit preoccupied the last few days.
The truck’s headlights cut through the semi-darkness, twin beacons that illuminated the deteriorated road and the tall pine trees that stood elegantly along the woods.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said as she stared ahead.
He looked across the seat at her, her gaze lit by the dim light of the dashboard. “Glad you think so.”
“Thank you, Wyler.”
“For what?”
“Don’t think I don’t know why you bought The Shaw Cabin.” She unwrapped a sucker and popped it into her mouth. She’d learned that cherry candy eased her queasiness. “More for me than you. Or rather, more for the baby.”
"Believe me, Liberty, I'm fully committed to this," he insisted.
"I do believe you. The baby news is starting to spread around town, it was inevitable."
"Being married, it's not going to surprise anyone that we're having a baby," he said evenly. "It happens, whether people are married or not."
"I shouldn't have used the baby to stir up trouble with Kaitlynn."
He coughed gently, sensing her concern about the news getting out. "True, yet there might be more to it than just Kaitlynn's reaction."
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes when a person is keeping good news, they’re bursting to reveal it, to someone. Anyone. Maybe it was a relief in some way for you to finally open up and tell people.” He shifted in the seat.
“I need to find a way to bury the hatchet between Kaitlynn and me, but that woman finds every crack and infuses her poison in through the seams. One would think by now I would have left all that behind.”
“What happened? I’m sure you didn’t wake up one morning and decide to start disliking her. What did she do?”
"Back in fourth grade, while crafting Christmas ornaments with glitter, yellow yarn, and beads, I remember working hard to make my angel beautiful. Kaitlynn, sitting nearby, boasted that her ornament was the best and insulted Honor’s creation, almost reducing her to tears. Back then, I had quite a fiery spirit and retorted that Kaitlynn's angel resembled one that had plummeted from the sky and landed face-first into dog waste."
“Let me guess, things spiraled from there?”
“She grabbed my angel and broke her head off. At seven, that was a tragedy. She and I both lost our recess that day, but Kaitlynn was out for blood after. She dubbed me the “evil twin” and like a cooked noodle it stuck to the wall. It’s hard to shake a label once it’s glued into everyone’s head.”
“So that’s how that all started?”
“I understand if you find yourself attracted to her. She’s bubbly, cute, and has all her ducks in a row—”
“Wait, what? Attracted to her?” He slowed the truck.
“Wyler…”
“Liberty.” He stopped the truck in the middle of the road and shifted to face her. “I’m not attracted to Kaitlynn. We’ve already had this conversation. Too many times.”
“If we weren’t married, maybe you’d be interested?”
“But we are married, and I haven’t thought of Kaitlynn as anything other than a friend. I understand this beef has gone on a long time between you and her, but there’s one thing you can trust, I’m not into her.” He turned and pressed the gas to start the truck back onto the road.
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?” he sighed. “For a smart woman, sometimes you can be nutty. Being married means something to me.”
“I forced you into this marriage.” She stared through the window.
“If you really think that then you need your head checked, sweetheart. There’s not a single person out there that can be forced to do something they don’t want to do. I made a choice, and I don’t regret it.”
“Okay. You’re right.”
“Are you sleepy because you seem tired?”
She turned her cheek, looking at him. “No, not really.” She heaved a gentle sigh.
He reached over and took her hand. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“Thank you, Wyler, but everything is okay.”
Although his instincts warned him that she was hiding something, he didn’t want to pressure her. He’d learned early on that she wasn’t the type to give up her secrets easily or allow a man to sweep in and take care of her troubles.
Both fell into silence. The only sounds were the gentle hum of the engine and the repetitive murmurs of the tires on the pavement.
He took the road leading to the cabin.
“Shut your eyes,” he instructed.
“Why?”
“Just do it,” he said softly.
“Okay.”
He glanced at her. “No peeking.”
“Then hurry because this is a weird feeling.”
He chuckled and parked the truck, shutting off the engine. “Don’t move. Keep your eyes closed. I’ll come and get you.” He slid out of the driver’s seat and rounded the truck to open her door. He helped her out, making sure he had a safe grip on her hand and waist.
“Don’t let me fall.”
“Sweetheart, never.”
“Ouch!”
“What? Am I hurting you?”
“No. I think I got bit by a mosquito. Can I open my eyes now?”
“Patience.” He led her to a place near the steps. “Okay. Open them.”
*****
Liberty couldn’t believe her eyes. “Wyler, did you do this?” Flamed torches lit the entire front of the cabin and stringed twinkling lights were strung across the railing of the porch. It looked like a home out of a magazine
“I might have had some help.”
The cabin’s logs were weathered, a testament to the marks of years that had passed. Moss and ivy clung to the exterior, and the red tin roof added a touch of modern to the rustic nature.
“It’s lovely.”
“You want to see inside?” he asked.
A narrow path, lit by more solar lighting, led to the door—a handmade arched door carved with designs and a half-moon shaped window. Two white rockers lined the small porch that were inviting—for another day.
He opened the door, and she stepped inside behind him, in awe at the warmth and coziness of the space. “It’s beautiful.”
“It just needed a facelift. It has solid bones.”
The stone hearth of the fireplace rose like a stately throne all the way to the beamed ceiling where more twinkling lights were wrapped. Two antique chandeliers, one above the table and another in the living room, had crystal teardrops that reflected the lighting.
He started a fire that cast a golden glow of dancing shadows on the walls, while she continued to admire the cottage and how it had all come together.
A sofa and two chairs were simple, yet sturdy. Her favorite was a hand-crafted round table and chairs that sat near a row of windows that overlooked the river. A soft fur rug took up most of the floor space.
The cabin seemed to hum with a gentle energy.
“There are two bedrooms,” Wyler said. “One for the baby’s room, and the master. There’s only one bathroom but I might add on another later.”
“You’ve really thought this through.”
“There’s something I want to show you.”
He led her down the short hallway. She caught the scent of jasmine before she got to the door that was left slightly ajar. Glowing light seeped from the crack. “What is this?”
“You have to see inside.”
She peeked in and couldn’t believe the trouble he’d gone to. The bathroom had been transformed into a romantic oasis.
Bathed in a soft, flickering glow from the flameless candles that lined every available shelf and counter, there was also soft music that played in the background, a melody of strings and piano that wrapped around the senses like a tender hug.
“I didn’t have vanilla, which is your favorite scent, so I had to choose between lavender or jasmine,” he said from where he stood in the open doorway. “I went with jasmine.”
“I’m in awe.”
She stepped across the room and found that the antique tub was full and rose petals floated on the surface. Their bright, crimson color appeared more vivid against the creamy foam. “I’m guessing you drew this bath for me?”
“I did. You’ll probably want to add some hot water.”
The vanity was adorned with a bouquet of fresh flowers and a metal ice bucket was flanked by crystal flutes.
“Since you can’t have wine, you have orange juice.”
“You’ve thought of everything, Wyler,” she stated softly.
“You’ve seemed stressed lately and working hard. I wanted you to know that I’m thinking of you.”
She stepped over to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a tight hug. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
He kissed her lips. “Every single minute.”
“Do I smell dinner from the kitchen?”
“I made your favorite. Homemade mac and cheese and a salad.”
“Can it wait for a bit?”
“Yes.”
Liberty took a step back and pulled her top over her head, depositing it on the polished, planked floor. Reaching up, she unclasped her bra and allowed the material to float away in a wisp of blue satin.
“The tub is big enough for two,” he said.
“My thoughts exactly.”