Chapter 21 #2
I smiled at Freyja. “It’s nice to meet you. Noah’s right, I was admiring the murals. You’re very talented.”
“Thank you!” Freyja flushed at the compliment and held out her hand to shake mine. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Nellie. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh really?” I glanced at Noah, sending him a questioning look.
“It’s the Hartley triplets,” Freyja explained, lowering her voice as if she expected them to overhear her. “They came in the other day and couldn’t stop talking about the pretty newcomer that captured Noah’s attention.”
“Ah, right,” I shifted awkwardly on my feet.
“Nellie’s still not used to their level of community involvement,” Noah explained with a laugh.
Freyja sent me a sympathetic smile. “I can understand that. They mean no harm, they’re like…” She paused for a moment. “They are like overly-involved grandmothers. To everyone.”
“Yeah.” I laughed awkwardly, thinking back to earlier, when I’d felt a little sorry for myself for not having grandparents. Seems like I might have surrogate grandmothers after all, and I wasn’t sure if I’d get used to their interest in me.
“Anyway, would you like a bit of a tour? It’s a little messy in the back right now. I’m cleaning up after a morning art class with kids,” Freyja offered with a smile.
“Sure, I’d love a tour!”
“Excellent!” Freyja clapped her hands together, then began the tour.
She told me that her aunt Alma had opened the gallery in the early nineties, and that it used to be a gallery strictly for artists to sell their work. She hired her sister, Freyja’s grandmother, as the art curator and to manage and oversee things so she didn’t have to.
When Freyja took over, she expanded in the back and created an area where she could host classes.
She showed us the back, where she hosted the art classes.
She did paint nights, pottery courses, mixed media courses, painting, and sketchbook courses.
She had classes geared to kids and to adults.
She had her liquor license, so she could serve wine at the adult paint nights and gallery shows she hosted.
I made a mental note to drag Sage along to one of her adult paint nights. It sounded like a lot of fun, even if we couldn’t drink the wine.
“Local artists still sell their work through the gallery, and every couple of months, I host art shows to feature their work.” Freyja explained as we walked back into the front gallery.
“I team up with my friend, Jolie Loucks. She makes the best charcuterie boards! Our next art show is on the last Saturday of the month.”
“We’ll be there,” Noah said, sending me a flirty little smile that made the butterflies in my belly swirl and dance.
“Great!” Freyja grinned.
“How is Mrs. Durand doing?” Noah asked, and they launched into a conversation about Freyja’s aunt.
While they talked, I wandered over to one of the walls in the gallery, my gaze pulled to a painting there.
It was a landscape of a babbling creek and an old worn bridge in a heavily wooded area.
There was something about it that called to me, and if I had the funds, I’d have bought it on the spot to hang in my apartment.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have the funds, so I could only stand and admire it for a couple of minutes, embracing the peaceful feeling that washed over me while I looked at it.
“Are you ready to head out?” Noah asked, coming up behind me.
“Yeah, sure.” I nodded, pulling my gaze away from the painting. “Where to next?”
“I say you check out Enchanted Echoes,” Freyja suggested. “No tour of Hartwood Creek is complete without seeing the original Hartley homestead.”
“She’s right, it is a staple.” Noah said. “We’ll see you later, Freyja. Thanks for the tour.”
“Any time! Hopefully, we’ll see you at the art show!” Freyja called out as we made our way out of the gallery.
“Is Enchanted Echoes that crystal store?” I asked, feeling a pull toward it.
“It sure is. It’s run by Delia Hartley. She’s Dorothy’s granddaughter.”
“So, another cousin of yours?” I rolled my eyes.
“A distant one.” Noah smirked.
“Gosh, no wonder you had a hard time dating. You’re related to practically everyone in town.”
“Not everyone, but yeah. Quite a few of them, either through the Wood family line or the Hartley line.” Noah chuckled.
I’d been meaning to check out Enchanted Echoes out ever since I’d moved to town, but I hadn’t gotten around to it. I hadn’t wanted to go alone, but I hadn’t wanted to drag Sage, either. She didn’t exactly believe in the metaphysical.
I, on the other hand, wasn’t completely opposed to the idea. After all, Delia’s reading on the night of Witches’ Ball set things in motion for me, and I wondered if she’d have any other insights to share about the path my life had taken.
The original Hartley homestead was located on the far northeast side of town. Noah explained it was the last building before the trails lead to the Whimsical Woods Resorts.
“The road to get to Hartwood Creek is on the west side of town, but you can get there by foot using the trails. It’s how Morgana Hartley visited Alexander Wood,” Noah explained.
My skin pebbled with goosebumps as I glanced toward the pathway leading toward the trails.
I’d read about Morgana Hartley and Alexander Wood in the book Sage had bought for me. There had been a few old sepia photographs of a couple from long ago, and their triplet daughters.
The original homestead was over three hundred years old, and it looked like it.
The stairs had recently been rebuilt, and they’d added a wheelchair ramp for accessibility, but the house itself looked like it’d been scooped up from the seventeen hundreds and dropped on a snowy street in Hartwood Creek. It was timeless.
The stone and log cabin had the original wooden door that had seen better days but still looked solid. It creaked when Noah opened it, and he held it for me as I stepped inside.
The floors were all original hardwood. Thick, worn pine slats that creaked beneath my feet as I walked into the shop.
There were tables and displays brimming with all sorts of different kinds of crystals in the centre of the room.
On the right side of the large room were old built-in bookshelves full of books and other various items.
To the left of the expansive space, there was a large stone hearth with an old, cast-iron pot that looked suspiciously like a cauldron hanging on the ancient trammel hook over the fire, which kept the room comfortably warm despite the windchill outside.
The sight of the fire surprised me, especially with the age of the cabin. The fire seemed to be heating whatever was in the cauldron. It smelt of cinnamon, orange, and cloves.
There was a counter at the back of the room with a vintage cash register. On the wall behind the counter was another shelf with hundreds, if not thousands, of various vials. To the right of the counter was a doorway covered with a wooden bead curtain.
“Good afternoon!” an airy, recognizable voice called out from the backroom.
The wooden beads made an almost musical sound as they knocked together when Delia Hartley parted them and stepped into the storefront.
“Ah, Noah. I see you’ve brought our new friend with you.
Nellie, isn’t it? I remember you from the Witches’ Ball. I trust you had a good night?”
Delia smiled knowingly. She was gorgeous with her long, wavy dark auburn hair and vivid green eyes framed by thick lashes. During the Witches’ Ball, she’d dressed up as a fortune teller, although her outfit today was quite similar.
“Yeah, it was a good night,” I said.
Delia’s lips twitched with amusement, her eyes moving to Noah briefly, then flitting back to me. “And how are you finding Hartwood Creek?”
“It’s very welcoming,” I answered.
Delia’s smile widened at my answer, and she inclined her head. “Well, we are very glad to have you as an official resident,” she said. “I have a gift for you.”
“You do?” I frowned, watching as Delia went behind the counter and grabbed something. It was a small brown paper bag with purple tissue paper peeking out the top.
“I do, it’s a welcome gift,” Delia smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you to come by so I could give it to you.”
“Wow, that’s really nice of you, Delia,” Noah said, putting his hand on the small of my back.
She smiled. “I hope the items within bring you comfort and ease, Nellie. Please don’t hesitate to visit if you need anything at all.
I offer energy healing, spiritual mentoring, and group healing classes, as well as all the lovely items you see in my store.
” Delia chuckled, waving her hand around the room.
“Okay, yeah, that sounds great. Thank you,” I said, holding the gift bag closer to my body. I felt like I needed to buy something, so I perused the shelves and ended up selecting two jars of all-natural body butter that Delia told me she made herself.
“It’s great for stretch marks,” Delia said, her knowing eyes sweeping down for the briefest of moments, a secret smile playing on her pillowy lips.
It should have made me feel uneasy, but there was something about Delia’s aura.
It was nurturing and mystical, and I felt at home in her presence.
Like I’d known her forever, even though I really hadn’t.
This was only my second time speaking to her.
I told myself I was being silly, anyway.
There was no way Delia knew about my little secret yet.
The word hadn’t spread. Only four people knew about it, and those four people were sworn to secrecy.
Tabitha hadn’t even told Parker yet, and although Parker knew that Sage was pregnant, he had no idea I was, too.
I tried to pay for my purchases, but Noah beat me to it. “It’s my treat,” he murmured.
“I’ll be seeing you soon, Nellie,” Delia said, smiling her secretive, all-knowing smile.
We said our goodbyes and left Enchanted Echoes, then started walking back to the heart of downtown. “Feel like checking out the bookstore, or are you tired?” Noah asked. I really wanted to find somewhere to open my gift from Delia, but something told me to wait until I was alone.
“Sure,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders. I’d already been in the bookstore a couple times, with Sage and on my own, but I firmly believed there was no such thing as visiting a bookstore too much.
The bookstore owner was an older gentleman with greying hair and square glasses and a little round belly. He dressed impeccably, in dress pants with suspenders and button up shirts, and sometimes wore a newspaper hat.
The first time I’d gone into the bookstore with Sage, he’d been there.
The second time when I’d been on my own picking up a new romance book to fill the lonely hours at night, his wife had been behind the counter, too.
She’d struck up an entertaining conversation about her favourite romance books of the year—many of which I’d added to my to-be-read list.
I hadn’t realized until moving to Hartwood Creek how much I longed for that sense of community, that sense of belonging.
While we browsed, Noah playfully whispered that he wasn’t related to the Loves, but that they’d moved to Hartwood Creek almost thirty years ago to purchase Beyond The Pages and raise their daughter.
After he gave me the 411 on the Loves, Noah went to check out the display table of new release thrillers and mysteries.
He picked up one, flipping it open to read the synopsis.
I couldn’t help but pull my phone out and take a picture of him.
I was not so ashamed to admit that I followed the Hot Dudes Reading account on Instagram, and Noah with a book was great fodder.
“Are you a reader?” I asked him, watching as he picked up another book to check it out.
“I haven’t had much time to read lately, but yeah, I enjoy i.,” Noah’s cheeks flushed, almost as if he was embarrassed to answer. But his answer made him even more attractive to me.
“The playboy bachelor likes to read, too.” I gave him an appraising look, which did nothing to douse the horny flames that had been licking up my body since the night of our very first date. If anything, it only made my libido increase like a hormonal teenager at a boy band concert.
I found it incredibly attractive when men read, ergo why I followed that account. Heck, a guy reading instantly went up in ten points on the attractive scale, no matter what level he started at. But Noah reading? It did something to me on a primal level.