Chapter 41
[Taxi]
While I’d come into the diner ready to burn this whole town down, Stone extinguished my irritation with a breathing exercise, a listening ear, and a grilled cheese sandwich.
But once we ended our meal, I’m apprehensive again. Like walls are rebuilding around me, or bars cage me in.
I wasn’t ready to return to Trudy’s and face my sister.
I heard what Stone said and appreciated his comforting words. My sisters and I were complicated.
We’d scattered to all corners of the world, and sometimes I felt guilty about that as well. Like it was somehow my fault.
They’d lived with Trudy and Carlton most of their young lives. They hadn’t really known Mama or their dad. Trudy and Carlton were their parents for the most part. So why had they left? Why had they gone wherever they went?
A big part of me thought it was because of Mama. An inherent part of our DNA to wander.
Another part reminds me of Simon and his words weeks ago.
You always leave.
Maybe, just maybe, my sisters fled because they felt abandoned by me. My need to disappear. My fear of staying in one place.
I didn’t travel from a desire to see the world. I traveled because my art caused me to move around. I was searching for communities that needed help feeling cohesive. Towns that wanted to show how proud they were of who they are.
A reflection of me, scattered here, there, and everywhere, when I should have been looking in one particular direction.
Sterling Falls. And my sisters.
Did my sisters know I was proud of them? Did they know how much I missed them?
Who’s fault is that, Trudy said about not having a backyard.
So many faults were mine. Because I didn’t stay put. I didn’t build community where it mattered most—with my family.
As we stand on the corner of Corner and Main Street, Stone takes my hand, startling me out of my musing. We cross the street, facing Frederick’s, originally an alchemist shop, then a pharmacy and eventually an ice cream store.
The signature red, blue, and white striped barber’s pole, originally attributed to pharmacies, is still on the corner of the building.
I’m full from my sandwich and don’t think I can handle ice cream right now, but Stone doesn’t stop in front of the shop.
Instead, he walks along the side of it, stopping midway down the walk, and then spins us so we face the wall.
In front of us is a dull red brick building, dirty and weathered, yet in decent condition.
Stone releases my hand and steps behind me, setting his hands on my hips like they belong there. And I marvel at how perfectly they fit.
“What do you think?”
I glance at him over my shoulder, then back at the wall. “It’s a brick wall.”
He chuckles at my stating the obvious.
“Let’s activate that artistic brain of yours.” He lowers his voice, setting his mouth near my ear, and lulling me to tip my head against his shoulder. I stare at the two-story expanse in front of us.
“Try again,” he says, like he’s a mystic of sorts.
Focusing on the wall, I try to imagine what I might paint. Something that represents this town. What it has always meant to me. What it means to the man standing at my back.
“What do you think should be up there?” I ask.
“Oh, I’m not the artist here.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Humor me,” I say, finding a smile myself, before I chew at my lower lip. “What comes to mind when you think of Sterling Falls?”
“The Falls.”
“Come on, dig deeper.” I clutch my fist and tap it over my heart. But now that he’s mentioned the local falls, I visualize them. Clear streams of water, billowing to white caps crashing on the river below. Dark, dirty rock formations. Green vegetation. Blue sky overhead.
The water has a silvery tint to it when the sun hits it just right. The sterling color is a mystery as silver isn’t something mined in the area.
Rumor has it star-crossed lovers died there. Opposing sides of a new county. Very Romeo-and-Juliet-esque in nature. On rare occasions, some say you can see the couple behind the waterfall where there is no ledge big enough to hold humans.
Others say if you drink the water with someone present, you’ll know if that person is your true love.
All of it is folklore.
And endears me even more to this small town.
The color green glides over everything, like a filter, representing the blue-green mountains of West Virginia. Green is often a symbol of rebirth, new growth, thriving.
I grip Stone’s wrist over my shoulder and tug his arm around my chest. He leans into me, or maybe I just press further into him.
“What else to you see when you think of Sterling Falls?” I ask my voice hushed, like the wall can hear us assessing it.
“My family, of course,” he says, the people who bind him to this mountain town. A ribbon around his heart, holding him in place. The gift of himself he’s given so easily to all of them.
Clay. Judd. Knox. Ford. Sebastian. Vale.
Seven siblings. One great man at the top of the list.
Stone.
“What else do you see?” Asking one more time, needing just a little bit more.
“Community,” he says quietly. “The town. The people. People, like Trudy and Carlton, make this area great.”
Trudy and Carlton Wallace. People who never had children of their own, and yet loved so many children. Three sisters. One cousin of sorts. Countless teens coming and going. And one left-behind boy. Simon.
Tears prickle my eyes again. I’m so sensitive today.
And yet, I see their faces on that wall.
Sedona, Jolene, and I. Rowan Lyons, a hero from the community. Simon, loved by all.
The blend of differences making this mountain what it has always been.
Home.
“Is this for real?” I whisper, staring at the brick, no longer seeing just red rectangles on the side of a building, but a mural of color, bright and dark, rich green, soft blue, and a multitude of every other color to represent everyone who lives here.
“What?” Stone asks, answering my question with his own.
This moment. Us. A future.
“Are you giving me this wall to paint?”
He presses a kiss to my temples. “Technically, Frederick’s is allowing you to paint the side of their building, and Emerson approved a mural as a town improvement, giving you a limited budget for paint and your services.”
I spin to face him. “You don’t even know what I charge?”
“I’ll pay any difference necessary.” He waves up and down my body. “As long as it gets you out of your head, and into your art.”
He pauses a second, looking me directly in the eyes. Cobalt swirls in those blue orbs. “You need to paint, Taxi. And selfishly, I want to give you a reason to stick around a little longer.”
A reason?
He’s my reason.
Stone Sylver is as sturdy as they come. He’s attentive without being overbearing. Sweet in all the right ways, and undeniably sexy.
But I also know a decision to stay is bigger than us. It’s about me.
I like the road, but I’m tired of traveling. I want some place to call home. I want a backyard. I want to build my own community, one where I’m active and permanent.
“I want to see your work,” Stone adds. “A new item on my bucket list is to travel to all your murals, but for now, I want to see one created right here. One I’ll get to keep in my town.”
One he’ll keep.
And one I plan to make extra special, just for him.
I turn toward him and throw my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
I’ve never had someone gift me a wall. The canvas is blank, and my fingers are already itching to sketch a design for the town’s approval.
But first, I kiss Stone Sylver, town sheriff, ultimate man, right here on Corner Street.
Let this small-town be put on notice, he’s mine.
I intend to keep him.
Stone kisses me back before smiling against my mouth. “I have one final suggestion about the couch trading dilemma.”
“What?” I say, still hanging on to him, grinning like a fool.
He gave me a wall. A freakin’ wall.
“Come stay with me. Let Jolene take the couch. You can have my bed,” he says, still holding on to me. His hands slip to my hips, keeping me in place against him.
“I was planning on sleeping in Gloria,” I admit.
I don’t know why I’ve been arguing with Jolene. I have an escape hatch. I’ve slept in my van plenty of times. And yet, something inside me doesn’t want to bundle up in the van in my aunt’s driveway, alone again.
“I don’t like that plan,” Stone states.
Our eyes meet. It’s not up to him to like the decision or not, but I appreciate his concern all the same. I also might agree with him. I don’t like the plan either.
“If I take your bed, where will you sleep?” I tease, smoothing my hand down his pressed uniform, gaze catching on that shining star over his chest.
“Right next to you.” He tugs my hips and pulls me closer, giving me another meaningful kiss.
If a man kissed me enough to curl my toes, I’d cling a little bit.
No need to chase. I didn’t need to go anywhere. He was right here in my hands.
I hold on tighter.
“Think about it?” Stone says, eventually pulling back before we’re arrested for indecent exposure or behavior or whatever someone wants to call the town sheriff doing to me on a public sidewalk in the early afternoon.
“For now, maybe, I can bring some stuff to your place? Use your dining room table to spread out my pens and paints and do some sketching?” Trudy’s home doesn’t offer the wide space I need to start the creative process.
I’ve used plenty of public spaces before, but Stone’s dining room table feels most fitting.
I’ll also need wall measurements and then my iPad with the scaling software and—
“Take whatever room you want.” Stone interrupts. my mind already spiraling. “Come over later?”
“I’ll be there.”
I can’t wait.