Chapter 6 #2
She’s apologized so many times I’ve lost count. I just shrug instead of repeating myself. I’ve already told her there’s nothing to apologize for. I did hit her with my truck.
“Are you always this helpful to strangers?”
“No.”
She laughs under her breath. “Are you always this talkative?”
Again my shoulders hit my ears. “No need when simple will do the job.”
She looks out the window at the island Inn. “I bet you don’t like difficult either, do you?”
“Not on purpose.”
“That must be nice,” she murmurs, and I pick up on her frustration. Whether it’s with her life or her current situation, I don’t know.
“What about you?”
“Everything is complicated where I come from.”
I glance at her, then back at the road. “I noticed.”
I catch a glimpse of a fleeting smile. She doesn’t do that enough. She should.
The road curves, opening up onto a stretch where the trees thin just enough to see water off in the distance. It never stays out of sight for long on the island.
“What was it like growing up here?” she asks.
“Small. Everybody knew your business and you knew theirs.”
She tilts her head back, considering that. “You never thought of leaving? Not even once?”
“No. Like I said, I went away to school, but I always knew I’d come home.”
“I can’t imagine being somewhere your whole life and never wondering what else is out there.”
“There’s plenty out there. I just didn’t need it.”
“You sound very certain about that.”
“I am. Everything I need is here.”
Another quiet moment passes before she speaks again. “I’ve never been certain about anything. Not really.”
“You seem like you are.”
“That’s because I have to at least put out that vibe. If I don’t, past experiences have proved someone else decides for me.”
I’m curious to know more about that, but she doesn’t offer and I don’t want to stick my nose into something she doesn’t want to talk about. After a second, she shifts the conversation.
“What’s your father like?” she asks.
“Nothing like me. Just a warning, he’ll talk your ear off and butt into all your business if you let him. You have to be firm. Don’t let him weasel his way into your life.”
She shakes her head. “He sounds nothing like my dad. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. Tell me about your farm. Paint me a picture.”
I’ve never been good with words. “Fields,” I start. “I guess more than you’d expect for an island. Trees. A lot. Hives set back where the wind doesn’t hit as hard. You’ll hear the bees before you see them.”
“Hear them?”
“Yeah.”
“All of them at once?”
“Mostly.”
She makes a face at that. “That sounds terrifying.”
I shrug. “It’s not.”
“You say that because you’re used to it.”
“I guess that’s part of it.”
“What’s the other part?”
“They don’t bother you if you don’t bother them.”
She gives me side-eye. “You trust them that much?”
“Yeah.”
“Completely?” she presses.
I give it thought. I trust my bees more than a lot of people. “As much as you can trust anything that stings.”
That gets a grin out of her. “Well, your little worker bees make outstanding honey.”
I notice she’s not holding her ribs anymore and her shoulders are more relaxed.
“You’re not what I expected,” she comments.
I glance over at her. “What were you expecting?”
“A man who buys lingerie for multiple women probably isn’t someone who spends his time with bees.”
I huff out a breath. “That’s not going away, is it?”
“Not yet.”
“Fair enough.”
She smiles again and this time it lingers. The road narrows as we turn off toward my place, gravel crunching beneath my tires.
“Can I just say again how sorry I am about putting you and your father in this position?”
“No need.”
“Do you think this is going to work?”
“I don’t know why not.”
“My parents are going to expect things.”
“Yep. They will.”
She swivels toward me more fully now. “And you’re still willing to do this?”
“I said I would.”
A fly under a microscope couldn’t have felt any more observed than I did at that moment.
“You don’t know what you’re agreeing to.”
“Probably not.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
I think about it, then reply, “Because I keep my promises.”
She blinks and looks away… but I saw it. I’d like to think a small fissure in her defenses is starting to form after so many have let her down.
The farmhouse comes into view just ahead, sitting back from the road the way it always has, steady and familiar. The drive is lined with tall live oak trees trailing Spanish moss.
Naudi gasps, speechless. I stop the truck so she can look her fill.
“This is stunning, Walker. I feel like I should be riding up in a horsedrawn carriage. You never said you live in a… mansion.”
I look toward the white, eight-column, two-story house with upper and lower wraparound porches.
The black ironwork railings were sanded and repainted a month ago.
By me. She sees the beauty of the house, and I see that it’s way too big for two men and takes a lot of upkeep to prevent it from falling down around our heads.
It was a fun place to grow up as a kid. My sisters and I had the run of the farm, and we took advantage at every opportunity.
The truth is that if the honey business hadn’t taken off, we may have been forced to sell the farm and that would have broken my father’s heart. Mine too.
“My so many times great-grandfather built the house. I’m not going to say how he earned his money, but you do know that this island was settled by pirates, right?”
“Oh, my gosh, you are a descendent of the original pirates? Wait, your last name is Colley. I remember reading about a famous pirate… Robert Colley.”
I will neither confirm nor deny. She can put two and two together. She’ll see enough once she gets inside the house.
“Does it have a name?”
“Colley Point.”
“Wow. My parents may never leave.”
“I reckon we’ll survive.” I mean, how bad can her parents be?