Chapter Nine
How in the hell could time go so fast? It seemed like only yesterday, Jillian had asked the company if she could extend her stay, and now it was already Thursday night.
She laid her head on Wyatt’s chest and listened to his steady heartbeat, which had slowed somewhat from the way it had been an hour ago when they made such sweet and passionate love.
Or even when they’d had a shower quickie with the water spraying down on them.
She had sketched in the picture of the peacock with a burning building behind it.
The title was simply “Beauty from the Ashes.” That was exactly what these weeks had been for her, and now it was time to appreciate the closure and go home to her normal routine.
Who was she kidding? Her norm would never be the same again.
She looked at life differently, and that affected her paintings.
It wasn’t a bad thing. Not at all. But she couldn’t help but wonder what the change would do for business.
Would her clients read what she was trying to portray with her charcoal and paintbrushes?
Wyatt’s heartbeat sped up. He wrapped both arms around her and kissed her on the forehead. “Having trouble falling asleep?”
“I don’t want tomorrow to get here,” she whispered.
“Me, either, but it’s not the end, darlin’. This has been chapter one, or in your case the rough sketch. Next is chapter two.”
“How many chapters are there?”
“However many it takes to tell the whole story. Like however many strokes with the charcoal or paint it takes to finish a piece of your art,” he answered, and hugged her tighter.
“You have a long drive tomorrow. Shut your eyes and dream of a big cabin back in the woods where our offices are right across the hall from each other.”
“I’ll try.”
She did what he suggested, and she dreamed of that big cabin set back in a wooded area with peacocks in the front yard.
The aroma of bacon and coffee filled the cabin when she reluctantly left the lovely dream behind and opened her eyes.
Wyatt carried the same old cookie sheet tray to the bed, only this time, a bouquet of wildflowers in a coffee mug sat right in the middle of it.
“Good mornin’, gorgeous.” He took time to kiss her before he set the tray down.
“Mornin’ to you and to Rascal.” She broke the end off a piece of crispy bacon and gave it to the dog, who had his front paws on the edge of the bed. “I dreamed about the big cabin in the woods, but I’m still not ready to tell you goodbye.”
“That is a dirty word, even worse than an f-bomb. You will have to repent for saying it, or you won’t have a chance of making it through the pearly gates.”
Jillian giggled and took a sip of the coffee. “You make me happy, Mr. Creswell.”
“You make me happy, Ms. Williams.” He settled onto the other side of the bed and picked up a biscuit stuffed with scrambled eggs.
“Let’s eat, sit on the porch while we have our second cup of coffee, and let the children play in your cabin.
The peacocks are in the front yard this morning, but there’s only one peahen following him around this morning.
Must be his favorite lady from the harem we saw last time. ”
“Or maybe …” She picked up a biscuit and added two strips of bacon to the inside. “She doesn’t like to say goodbye, either.”
“Might be.”
“If we could understand peafowl talk, what would they say in the place of that dirty word?”
“See you later,” Wyatt answered without a split second’s hesitation. “That’s what we’re going to say and then we will seal leaving with a kiss anytime we ever have to leave or be apart from each other overnight.”
She put a hand over her heart. “I’ll keep that right here.”
“So will I.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
Wyatt couldn’t figure out if the weight in his heart was because he had to leave Jillian, or if it was because he had fallen in love with her.
The latter was a crazy idea. He liked her, didn’t really want them to go their separate ways in a couple of hours, but love?
He did not and had never believed in love at first sight.
True love took months to really develop, not only three weeks.
Whichever had caused the heaviness would come to light when they were apart.
Either the old saying out of sight, out of mind or the one that said absence makes the heart grow fonder would surface.
“I know you got Rascal from a shelter, but why did you choose him?” Jillian broke a long silence.
“I didn’t. He chose me.” Wyatt chuckled, glad for a conversation that didn’t involve having to watch her drive away.
“I was there to get a big dog. I didn’t care if it was a mutt who didn’t know what kind of bloodlines he had in him.
The folks there had let Rascal out to run around while they cleaned his cage.
He ran up to me and put his paws on my shin.
I got lost in his begging eyes and adopted him.
We’ve been together for seven years. How about you and Molly?
You told me you found her in a park when she was a half-starved kitten, but how old is she? ”
“Eight this summer. I gave her a July Fourth birthday because she’s a fighter.”
“Just like you.” He took a final drink of his coffee as the sound of a vehicle coming up the road reached them. “That’s probably the cleaning crew. It’s time, darlin’,” Wyatt said. “Do you need to get any last-minute things ready?”
“Just put Molly in her carrier,” she said with a long sigh.
Wyatt picked up the two mugs, kissed her on the cheek, and walked across the lawn to his cabin.
Everything except those two cups was already stowed away in the back seat and bed of his truck.
He had lived a lifetime in the past three weeks.
One book was finished two weeks early and the next one in the series was outlined and the first chapter written.
“The first few lines are the hardest, but they came easy this time, and all the credit goes to Jillian,” he told Rascal as he washed and dried the two cups and slipped them into a paper sack.
“I should leave them behind, but I want to remember her drinking from the white one when we had breakfast in bed. Will Adam become a hopeless romantic about Jolene in this next story?”
Rascal hopped around like a windup toy.
A couple of vehicle doors slammed. He went outside with the paper bag in one hand and Rascal tucked into the crook of his arm like a football.
He didn’t care if it was Bridal Veil Cabin Number 2 on the website.
In his mind there should be a 24-karat gold plaque on the weathered porch post that said: Jillian Williams, famous artist, slept here.
He handed his key to one of the ladies. “It’s unlocked. I heard you coming up the road.”
“Mine is, too,” Jillian called out from her front porch. “The key is on the cabinet.”
Wyatt turned Rascal loose from the driver’s side of his truck and hurried back to take the cat carrier from her. “Let me help with that.”
“Thanks.” Jillian’s tone sounded a little hoarse.
“Safe travels. We would love it if you’d give us a review on the website,” the ladies said in unison and waved.
“Y’all have a good day, and we’ll try to do that.” Wyatt secured the cat carrier by fastening the seat belt around it and turned to face Jillian.
She smiled even though her eyes floated in unshed tears. “It’s not that ugly word. It’s see you later, but please don’t let that later be too long.”
He pulled her close to his chest. “Absolutely not, my darlin’.”
Her arms looped around his neck, and with one little hop, her legs were around his waist. Their lips met in the middle of sparks that rivaled the peacock’s tail feathers. What was between them contained enough electricity to light up the whole town of Las Vegas for a month.
When the kiss ended, Jillian eased down from his body and put a hand to his cheek. “Send me a text when you get home. See you later.” She took a couple of steps back and got into her vehicle.
“FaceTime me when you get home. And later won’t be very far off,” Wyatt promised.
Jillian made it to the first turn before the dam broke.
Tears ran down her cheeks and dripped onto her shirt from her jaw.
She had not cried when she was three and the powers came to take her to a foster home.
She had not shed a single tear when Bunny cut all her long curls off to help get rid of head lice.
“Dammit!” She swore and slapped the steering wheel when she made the second turn onto the paved road. “I didn’t act like this when I left the past back there, so what’s wrong with me now?”
She was glad for the closure, but she didn’t want the relationship she had found with Wyatt to be lying in a casket.
At noon, she stopped to go to the bathroom and grab a bottle of sweet tea.
She was glad there were no lines at the checkout counter.
A nice spring breeze was blowing, but with her long hair, Molly could quickly get too hot in the car.
“Are you all right?” the elderly lady behind the register asked. “Do you need help?”
“Allergies.” Jillian forced a smile, paid for her tea, and jogged out to the SUV.
She had started the engine when her phone pinged with a short text from Wyatt: Home. Miss you already. Call me, please, when you arrive.
She sent one back: Will do. Miss you, too.
She felt like a fourteen-year-old kid with her first boyfriend when she was back on the highway heading south. Giddy. Giggly. Happy. Then the idea of the other shoe dropping hit her like a wrecking ball, and the tears welled up again.