Chapter Thirty-Three
I t was only a forty-five-minute drive to his fishing cabin, provided there was no traffic. But once he, Vickie, Buster and all their assorted items were loaded into his old pickup truck and on their way, it seemed like the trip was never-ending. “Buster, stop licking her.” Thatcher leaned over and pulled the dog toward him. “Sorry.” He glanced over at Vickie.
She laughed. “That’s okay. He’s just being friendly.” She wiped the doggie kisses from her cheek.
“Sit, boy,” Thatcher commanded, keeping his eyes on the road. At least driving kept him from worrying too much about what she must be thinking about his old truck. The inside was clean, but it was certainly not a luxury vehicle.
Buster promptly curled up between Thatcher and Vickie, his head resting on her leg.
Thatcher stretched his hand out to pat the dog, but it landed on top of Vickie’s hand just as she was reaching out to rub the dog’s soft fur. They both pulled back as if Buster was a hot stove. “Sorry.” He said.
“Don’t worry about it.”
He was silent. Maybe it had been a bad idea to invite her to his cabin. But he’d been over to her house a couple of times now to work and he didn’t want her to feel like he expected her to always be the hostess. “We’re nearly there.”
“It’s beautiful country. I love getting to see the fall colors.”
A few minutes later, they pulled into the driveway of the rustic cabin. “It might not look like much from the outside, but I’ve completely renovated the inside.”
Thatcher reached over and clipped a leash onto the dog. They climbed out and made their way up the path leading to the door. It was a beautiful fall day. The sky was a brilliant blue and the warm sun offset the cooler air. He unlocked the door and took the leash off the dog. Buster went bounding through the house, happy to be at his second home. “After you,” Thatcher said, holding the door open for Vickie.
She stepped inside. “These floors are beautiful.” She entered the living room, her attention still focused on the gleaming floors. “I refinished them a few years ago. They’re the original floors that my grandfather put in. I inherited the place from him.” He motioned down the hallway. “Feel free to look around while I put Buster outside.” The dog was already eagerly waiting at the back door. “I think he lays around dreaming of the weekends all week just so he can spend time out in the country.”
She laughed. “Probably so.”
Thatcher walked through the kitchen and opened the door. “Have fun, buddy,” he called. Buster hit the backyard at full speed and began running laps around the yard. Thatcher grabbed a plastic bowl from the cabinet and began to fill it with water.
“This is a great place. Very manly. But still inviting.” Vickie leaned against the door frame, watching him. “I’m glad you like it.” He’d never brought a woman to his cabin, at least one that wasn’t related to him. Her presence made him a little uneasy. He sat the water outside for Buster and came back in to find her running her hands along the wooden cabinets.
“These are great. Did you refinish them too?”
He nodded. “Actually the kitchen and bathroom are the only two rooms I made many changes to. I completely gutted both of them and started from scratch.” He nodded toward the cabinets. “So those were custom made to match the wood of the floors.”
“Cool. I wouldn’t even know where to start with a renovation like that.”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “Don’t judge me for this, but I got hooked on those home improvement shows a few years ago. So I got a lot of tips from watching them.”
“I love those shows. But I’d never have the patience to do any renovations like that.”
He met her gaze. “I’ve seen your place. It looks like it belongs in a magazine.”
Vickie sat down at the kitchen table and pulled her laptop from her bag. “That’s different. I didn’t actually have to do much work. Decorating is easy.”
“That’s the way I feel about renovating. Looks like we’d make a good team if we ever ended up with an old house together.”
She glanced up at him, obviously startled.
He cringed. Where had that come from? Was she afraid that he’d lured her out here, under the guise of work, to work his masculine wiles on her and convince her to move into an old house with him? He backpedaled. “My sisters helped me decorate this place. I was completely out of my element when it came to selecting wall colors and fabrics.”
“So do you have a large family?”
Thatcher crossed over and took the seat across from her at the table, silently thanking her for letting his foot-in-mouth moment go unmentioned. “Yeah. Two brothers and two sisters. I’m right smack in the middle.” He looked at her. “How about you?”
“It’s just me, actually. No brothers and sisters. My dad’s an only child, too. So no real family on his side. Mom has a sister who lives in Texas, so I don’t know my cousins very well.”
He furrowed his brow. He’d grown up surrounded by family. “Sounds lonely.”
Vickie looked up from her computer. “I guess. My parents traveled a lot when I was young. I practically lived at my grandparents’ house, especially in the summer. My mom’s parents.” She grinned. “They were wonderful though. My gramps passed away last year, and now Gram lives alone.” Her face grew sad.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked up at him. “He was a Christian. That always gives me comfort. For years and years, he never mentioned God. Gram would be at church anytime the doors were open. But for most of the time I was growing up, you couldn’t drag Gramps there.”
“So what changed?”
“He never really said. One Sunday morning about ten years ago, he got up and put on his best suit. Told Gram that it was time for him to straighten up. And he did. From that day forward, he gave himself to God. He’d pray before every meal and invite his buddies to services.” She grinned. “He even started leading singing sometimes on Wednesday nights.”
“Wonder what made him have such a change of heart.”
Vickie sighed. “I thought about it for a long time, trying to figure out what it was that finally got through to him. Even though I don’t know for sure, I suspect he knew all along that was what he should be doing. He was just too stubborn to do it. I think it had to be his own decision.”
“I guess a lot of us are that way. We know the path we should be on, but sometimes we try out another one just out of stubbornness.” Thatcher shook his head. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve stumbled along, trying to forge my own way, trying to totally ignore God. And you know what always happens?”
She met his gaze. “What’s that?”
“Inevitably, I get knocked down. And there I am, calling out for Him to help me even though I’ve tried to veer off on my own.”
Vickie nodded. “I understand that feeling. Lately I feel like my whole life is just serving as one big reminder that I’m not the one in charge.” She grinned. “It seems to be a lesson I have to learn over and over again.”