Chapter Twenty-One
"You be good, okay, Z? We'll be back in a little while."
Zia smiled at them over her shoulder, from where she was standing on the step stool at the sink. "I'm always good, aren't I, Fairy Goodness?"
Faye chuckled. "You are. You're good inside and you're a good little helper. But come on—those peas won't shell themselves."
Zia giggled. "I bet they would if you asked them to. They'd be little magic peas who jumped out of their shells. Because everyone loves Fairy Goodness."
Reaves chuckled, and Faye shook her head as she shooed them out of the kitchen.
On the way down the front steps, he took Alara's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I bet you'll be glad to get out of the house, won't you?"
She turned to look back up at it. "I know what you mean. I have spent most of my time here for a couple of months now. But you have to remember—for me, that's a luxury."
He hadn't thought about it that way, but he could see it. "Well. We're not going far."
She nodded eagerly. "I cannot wait to see this house, Reaves. I can't wait to work on it. I can't believe your dad pretty much ordered me to make it a home." She shook her head in wonder, and he opened the passenger door for her.
As he jogged around to the driver's side, he couldn't even feel bad that he knew something she didn't. She was so excited about fixing up the old house for a new family that she hadn't stopped to consider what his dad had really meant.
His dad had told him all about the conversation—and since Alara had assumed he was giving her a job to do, and she'd seemed so delighted to accept it, he'd let her run with the idea.
It didn't take long to drive over. As soon as they passed through the front gate and he started up the driveway, Alara gasped. "Oh my God, Reaves. Look at this place. Isn't it gorgeous?"
He looked at it a moment before he spoke.
He'd known this house all his life; he had a soft spot for it.
The few memories he had of his mom had been in the garden here, where she used to grow her flowers, and in the greenhouse outside.
He couldn't say he'd thought about it much in years, but now, looking at it through Alara's eyes, it looked pretty special again.
He turned to her—she'd thought the same thing at the same time.
"Zia's going to think it's a magical cottage, isn't she?"
He laughed out loud. "I was just about to say the same thing."
When they reached the front door, she stopped and stared at the flowers. They were the same as the ones in front of the house—the big daisy-looking ones that Zia liked to use in her flower arrangements, along with the dandelions.
Alara's eyes filled with tears, and he wrapped his arm around her.
"Hey. What's wrong?"
She sniffed and shook her head, then brushed her thumbs under her eyes. "Reaves, don't you know?"
"Know what?" he asked, starting to worry. "Is everything all right? Are you not well?"
She let out a short laugh that came out as more of a sob. "Do you not know what those flowers are?"
He stared at them, feeling like it was some kind of test. "They're big daisies, right?"
She did that same laughing, sobbing thing again. "Reaves. They're Marguerites."
His throat closed up slowly as he stared at them. "They are?"
She nodded. "I know they grow in front of your dad's place, but I didn't even know her name until the other night, when he told me. And now…"
Reaves held her a little closer and had to blink and swallow a few times. They stood staring at his mom's flowers for a long few moments, before she brushed her thumbs under her eyes again and straightened up, digging in her purse for the key his dad had given her.
"Come on. Let's go in and see what it's like inside."
He followed her around the whole house. It was just the right size, laid out on two floors—three bedrooms, two bathrooms—and in much better shape than he'd expected.
His dad had made it sound as though it might be falling down—it was livable just the way it was.
Whatever updates it needed were a matter of taste, not necessity.
Alara turned to him with a smile. "You know, whoever your dad rents this place out to is so lucky. It's gorgeous. I mean, I know it's not big and fancy like a lot of the houses around here. But it's perfect. It's a home, Reaves."
He was so tempted to tell her. The look of longing on her face almost made him cave. But it was his dad's surprise, not his.
She shook her head. "I'm going to make it into the perfect home. You have to make sure you vet the people who rent it from him, okay?" She shook her head again. "And maybe put in the contract that someone has to come in to take care of the flowers by the front door. I'll do it."
He caught her hand. "I have a feeling it's going to be fine. Whoever gets to live here will take damn good care of it. And of the Marguerites."
He led her out into the greenhouse, letting her go ahead of him.
She looked all around inspecting the few broken panes and the sagging shelving.
Then she came back to the center of the space and looked up through the glass at the sky.
A big smile spread slowly across her face.
She spun slowly around, arms wide, and for a moment she wasn't the careful, apologetic woman he'd met at all.
She was looking at the room the way Zia looked at the world—like it was made of magic. Like anything was possible.
He kept his mouth shut, leaned in the doorway, and watched.
"This is the place where it all began." She turned to him with a smile.
He waited for her to go on, surprised his dad would have told her that.
She smiled. "The branding, I mean. I don't think I told you, did I?
Sitting in my office, looking out the window, I saw the sun glint off this roof.
That's where the gold leaf came from. It just pulled everything together.
" She turned around in a circle again. "Isn't it funny that that Rooted in Stillness thing was inspired by a greenhouse—where things literally take root? "
He went to her and wrapped both his arms around her waist, resting his forehead against hers.
"What is it?" she asked, looking up into his eyes.
"Just that you don't even know the half of it."
"What do you mean?"
"When you said it all began right here, I thought you knew."
"Knew what?"
"Dad told you that he and Mom lived here before they ever bought the estate, right?"
She nodded.
"Well—this greenhouse right here is where he grew the first seedlings. The ones that became the first vines that became the House of St. James."
"Oh my God, Reaves." Her hand came up to cover her mouth, and her eyes wide. "I had no idea."
"I know."
"That just makes it even more perfect." She lifted her lips to his, her arms coming up around his neck. He loved the way she did that—as uncertain and apologetic as she'd been about most things right from the beginning, she’d never once hesitated whenever she wanted to kiss him.
~ ~ ~
When they finally broke apart, Alara caught Reaves's hand and took him to stand at the windows, looking up at the house and at the castle.
"Your dad said he used to look out from here when it was just land." Her hand came up to cover her heart. "That he knew he was going to buy it and build your mom the castle she wanted to live in."
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side. "He loved her with all his heart." He tucked his fingers under her chin and made her look up at him. "And I love you with all my heart, Alara. I hope you know that."
She rested her hand in the middle of his chest. "I'm starting to get used to the idea," she said with a smile.
He chuckled. "Good. It might not be the grand declaration, but it's a truth I can work with." He pressed a kiss to her lips. "And just so you know—I intend to spend the rest of my life making sure you know it all the way down to your bones."
She rested her head against his shoulder. "I like the sound of that." Standing there, snuggled against him, she was already starting to accept that it could be real.
The sight of the castle up there on the hill made her lift her head. "I want to paint it for him, Reaves."
He cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you already were. You showed me. And it's fantastic, Alara. I knew you were talented, but damn."
She stepped back. "No, I don't mean that. I mean—I'm already painting the view of here, from there. But this, Reaves." She pointed. "I need to paint him the view of the castle from here. And I bet I can paint it like it used to be as well."
"What do you mean?"
She nodded, warming to her idea. "I can imagine, from here, the view he used to see.
Bare land. And I can ask around to make sure I get the details right.
" She laughed. "In fact—you can tell me.
Maybe you were too young to remember exactly, but I bet you can tell me.
What would have grown where? What the land would have looked like? "
"Yeah. I can do that."
She could tell by the look on his face that he wasn't understanding.
"What I'm saying is, I can do him two paintings, side by side.
I can paint this scene—" she swept her arm out toward the castle "—as it used to be.
As what he saw when he dreamed of what he'd build. And then I can paint it exactly as it is now. The house, the vines, everything. The land before the dream, and everything that’s now his dream made real. "
He grinned. "I think he'd love that."
"I do, too. I want to do it."
"Then you should." She took her phone out to check the time. "But for now, we should probably get back, shouldn't we?"
"Yeah. Ollie will be over soon. We're going to spend the afternoon talking to Jeff and the other guys. And then we're going to spend an hour with Jacob and Bentley this afternoon."
"Is that about you guys not flying for them anymore?"
He smiled. "No. We already talked about that—they're good with it, as long as we find a good crew to take over from us for Bentley. This afternoon's about them helping me and Ollie learn how to run a winery."
"They're good friends to you, aren't they?"
He nodded. "The best. But don't forget—they're your friends, too. I have a feeling everyone's going to get together this weekend. We'll have to see how you go after your infusion tomorrow, but if you feel up to it, maybe we could…"
"Yeah, I'd like that. I'd like to go. Everyone's been so kind, and…" She met his gaze. "I'm really starting to feel like part of things now, Reaves."
He hugged her close to his chest. "Good. Because you are."
They locked up the house, and before they left, she turned at the front gate to look back.
"I love this place so much, Reaves. And the yard. Can you imagine a family living here? I can see it now—a swing set over there." She laughed. "Even a dog running around."
She didn't understand the look he gave her, but it made her feel a little guilty.
"Sorry. Come on, let's go. We need to get back."
Once they were back on the road, he turned to her. "I wasn't getting impatient. I had something on my mind."
"What is it?"
"It was when you talked about a dog."
She sighed. "I know. Homer, right?"
"Yeah."
"I feel so bad, Reaves. There was no way we could have a dog in the camper." She held her hand up. "And I'm not saying we're going back to the camper. I don't know what will happen yet, but…" She smiled. "I want to find a way for us to stay here."
He grinned at that. "Good. If you want it, we'll make it happen, one way or another. But I know that's too big a question for right now. And it's not even the question I was asking."
"I know. Sorry, I…"
"No, it's me." He shot her a quick smile. "What I want to ask is … How would you feel if I got Homer?"
She raised her eyebrows. "You?"
"Yeah. I've heard so much about him that I feel like I know him already. And I'm not going to be flying much anymore, so he can come around with me. And you know Zia would love it."
She had to smile at that. "She would, but she wants him for herself, Reaves."
He pulled over to the side of the road and cut the engine before turning in his seat to face her. "That's kind of the point, Alara."
"What is?"
He leaned his elbows on the console and beckoned for her to come closer. "If we're all together, then me having Homer means he's Zia's, too. And yours."
She pressed her lips together, but couldn't manage to hold the smile in. "Is that really where we're headed?" she asked.
"It's where I want us to go. Do you?"
"Yeah, Reaves. I do." She drew a breath. "I'm scared. Scared to want too much. My life doesn't tend to work out that way. But yeah. It's what I want."
"You know—instead of saying your life doesn't tend to work out that way, you could look at it like you've gotten all your bad luck out of the way already. And now the good things get to happen for you."
"Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful?"
"Yeah. It would. And as far as I'm concerned, it can be. All you need to do now is start believing it."