4. Charlie
Chapter 4
Charlie
A shrilling ring shattered the silence in my new home. Grabbing my phone from the kitchen counter, I pressed the green button to answer my mom’s call and put it on speaker.
“Momma!”
“Sweetheart! I have dad on the call with me. How are you settling into the new place?”
I took a moment to look around the space and felt a sense of peace in my heart. The walls were still barren and the small number of boxes I had were mostly still packed, but it still felt like home.
“It’s going really well.” I grabbed the rest of my paint brushes and started assigning them to their respective containers. Last night, I started setting up my painting space. It was much smaller than what I had in my last place, but I knew the rich nature that surrounded the cabin would be inspiration enough for me to continue my work with ease.
“I’m almost done setting up my painting area. The landlord even agreed that I could paint some murals on the walls inside the cabin.”
“That’s wonderful honey.” My dad’s voice came through the line. “Did you get a chance to meet him in person yet? Do you feel safe?”
A smile pulled at my lips. Always the protective one, my father had the hardest time after the fire. If he had it his way, I would have stayed with my parents indefinitely after I was discharged from the hospital. But he knew that wasn’t going to work. I’d always been a free spirit who needed her space. It was part of my creative process.
So, I hid the fact that I had met my landlord years before I moved to Georgia and that he wasn’t exactly throwing a welcome party in my honor. My parents didn’t need any reason to worry about me. Plus, I could handle Deacon Calhoun. Even if his presence did something funny to my insides and that it was difficult to look at him without wondering how perfection could truly exist in a man as rugged as him.
“He’s perfectly fine, Daddy. He should be coming around in the next few days to fix the dock behind the cabin. Did I tell you guys that it’s right on the river? I can see the water from my back window!”
“That sounds amazing, Charlie,” my mom responded right before my dad said, “Well, don’t go on the dock until he fixes it.”
I rolled my eyes. “I promise I won’t.”
Casper jumped on the arm of the sofa next to where I was still organizing all my brushes and paints. He let out a little squeak that melted my heart.
“Casper says hello.”
I could nearly hear my parents smile through the phone when they both responded, “Hello, buddy! We miss you!”
Casper bumped his head into the palm of my hand and flopped over. I stroked his belly. My parents were of those few people who loved animals as much, or maybe even more than they loved humans. They didn’t mind that I hadn’t given them human grandchildren yet. Both of them were completely content with having Casper to spoil.
And they spoiled him rotten. The fluff ball had an entire section of my tiny closet dedicated to a bin of toys my parents surprised us with before we left for our trip.
I was thankful for it though. My parents supported me in whatever decisions I made for myself. They trusted that I knew what I was doing, and it felt nice knowing I had their approval.
We spent the next hour chatting away on the phone while I organized my art supplies to my liking. They updated me on all the gossip going around Charlotte and we planned for a visit at the end of winter when spring brought the forest back to life.
By the end of our phone call, I stepped back and took in my cultivated space. A blank canvas sat atop my easel next to the open window looking over the rushing water of the river. It was the perfect spot, and I already had butterflies thinking about painting the deep blues of the water and greens from the surrounding pine trees.
“Wanna go for a little adventure, buddy?” Casper perked up when he heard the sound of my voice.
The temperature outside was likely dropping given how low the sun was behind the trees. So, I traded my leggings and sweatshirt for warmer clothes and slipped on my boots and beanie hat before I put Casper’s booties on his paws. When I strapped the last one onto his back paw, he stared up at me, unmoving.
“They’re to protect your feet,” I tried to coax him to act normal, but he just blinked at me like I was the idiot who put booties on a cat. Which, to be fair…I was.
“Come on. You’ll thank me later when your paws aren’t frozen from the cold ground.” Opening the back door, I gestured with my hand for him to follow. Stifling a laugh, I watched as he lifted each bootie-clad paw higher than necessary until he made his way onto the back patio.
He followed me down the steps and toward the river where I nearly lost my breath from the beauty just outside my door. I closed my eyes and listened. There was both a roar to the moving water and little plopping sounds from splashes landing in the depths. A dedicated wind had branches groaning against the pressure and rustling leaves scraped against one another. It was a masterpiece written by the most talented creator, making my hands ache with the need to stroke my brush against canvas.
When I opened my eyes again, I looked forward to where the small dock reached out over the water. Planks were missing from the foundation, and I found myself envisioning what it might be like to watch Deacon work on rebuilding it.
Back home, my parents always hired a handyman to come and fix things around their house. My dad had never been the type for homemade projects. He preferred to spend his time playing sports or chasing after a new marathon record for himself. My mother was the same way. We always joked that I must have been mixed up with another baby at the hospital because I was so dissimilar to my parents in the big ways.
Creation was in my blood, and I was excited to be around someone else who had the ability to create something from scratch. Even if he was a grumpy asshole. Art wasn’t just in the finery of paints or sculpture. It was in one’s ability to make something new out of what already existed. To breathe life in an undiscovered way.
Squatting, I ran my hand over Casper’s fur, giving his back a good scratch. He rolled over onto the frozen ground and with a few wiggles decided it was much too cold and sprung back onto his paws.
“See, I told you the booties would come in handy.” Mist gathered in front of my mouth as I spoke. The light rays coming through the tree line across the river were starting to dwindle as the sun sunk lower into the horizon.
Meow!
I chuckled. “I think you’re right. It’s time to head back inside to warm up.” I took one final look around the forest that surrounded my little cabin and felt my chest swell with gratitude. There was a time when I thought I’d never see another day in my life. Now, seven years after the fire, I was here. In the cutest little town with my furry best friend by my side and a wealth of inspiration before me.
Life is good .
Steam rose from the hot chocolate on the coffee table as I lit the starter log in the small fireplace. It didn’t take long before the starter log got going and the rest of the logs caught.
Settling onto the loveseat, I lifted the side of my sweater and rubbed at the scar lining my ribcage. The cold was really starting to irritate it, especially around the edges. I made a mental note to call my doctor on Monday to ask him what ointments might be best for it during the cold. The air was much drier here compared to Charlotte and if I didn’t get the itching under control, I was going to drive myself crazy.
Casper chirped at me from the ground. I patted my lap to invite him up and he immediately jumped. Making two circles, he finally settled in and started kneading the blanket I had draped over my legs.
I let my head fall to the back of the sofa and took a moment to look around the space. The inside of the cabin was chic—modern even. It almost seemed to have a woman’s touch, especially given the fresh flowers that were decorating the coffee table and both nightstands from the first day I’d walked in.
Sarah had said she’d helped Deacon renovate the place, but did she help him freshen it up with these flowers too?
My mind strayed to thoughts of Deacon having another woman help him with this place. Someone he might also share a bed with. My stomach turned sour. Some visceral part of me hoped there wasn’t a woman in his life. Not that there was any chance I’d have a shot with him given his reaction to seeing me here. Not that I was even sure I wanted a shot with him.
I typically preferred men who didn’t slam doors in my face.
Still. I didn’t want to think of him with someone else and the feeling kind of bothered me. I shouldn’t care what he does in his spare time and who he does it with. His life was none of my business.
Somehow, my mind still wandered to what it felt like to be held in his arms. The strength that surrounded me when I awoke to those beautiful green eyes and the guttural sound of his voice as he called after me. Tethering me to life when I was on death’s doorstep.
It might have been the adrenaline or the simple fact that the man had saved my life…but I swore something transcendent passed between us that day. Beyond what words could describe, but I felt it. A divine connection that I was sure wanted us to be near one another given that we both had ended up in Pebble Brook Falls.
Pop!
Crack!
I startled at the sound of the dry wood catching fire in a new spot. Letting out a long sigh, I stroked Casper’s back and said, “I’m being ridiculous, huh, boy? Thinking there’s some grand plan at work that brought us here.”
He tilted his head back and looked at me with narrowed eyes, like he didn’t care what I was thinking about as long as I kept scratching his back.
“Yeah, I don’t blame you. I wish I had someone to scratch my back too.”
Deciding to keep my thoughts away from tall, dark and handsome, I turned my attention back to the barren walls of the cabin. A misty forest scene flooded my mind. I could see every part of it. The way the sun’s rays at dawn shone through parts of the mist through the branches of the large pine trees.
More and more details played out in my mind as I imagined where I might start with the mural. Before I knew it, I was so lost in my own imagination I didn’t notice the room was starting to look hazy and the air smelled like...
SMOKE!
“Oh no!” Turning toward the blazing hearth, I realized black plumes of smoke were billowing forward, not up through the chimney like they were supposed to.
Grabbing Casper from my lap, I hopped off the sofa and ran toward the fridge with my phone. Dialing Deacon’s number as fast as my fingers would let me, I headed out the front door to stay away from the soot filled air.
“Hello?” His gruff voice came through the line.
Taking a calming breath, I tried not to sound too panicked. “Deacon, I think there’s something blocking the chimney because smoke is filling the entire cabin.”
Immediately sounding more alert, he asked, “Are you still in the cabin?”
“No. I grabbed Casper and we’re both sitting on the front porch.”
There was rustling in the background like he might be putting on a coat or something. “I’ll head over there right now. Don’t go back inside for any reason, okay?” There was an edge to his voice that made my heart flutter. Suddenly, the grumpy man I met on his front porch was concerned about my well-being…?
“Okay, I won’t,” I responded, peeking my head toward the window to see the smoke was growing thicker by the second. “But hurry, please?”
There was a roar of an engine through the phone. “I’m on my way.” Then, the phone line went dead.