11. Chapter 11
Rabble
R abble fully expected Skye to ignore his question and leave him waiting for her reply.
They hadn’t exchanged numbers and he regretted that now more than ever.
A short-sighted mistake made on his part, fueled by the myriad of emotions that swamped him each time he saw her.
His brain ceased working in her vicinity and he did good to form coherent thoughts at all.
He waited outside of view until her car drove away from the warehouse, then took the long path back to the bed and breakfast, hoping the hushed night noises would soothe some of his anxiety over her lack of answer.
He wanted to shout at the dark sky, but he finished his walk, letting the cool night air breathe life into him.
Whatever she chose, he would respect it, even if her rejection tore him to pieces.
Returning as late as he had, he missed out on Mrs. Basket’s formal dinner but found a sandwich and bag of chips atop a tray on the table with his name scrawled across a piece of white printer paper beside it.
A sealed manila envelope also sporting his name waited next to the plate.
Grabbing the dinner tray and envelope, he hurried up to his room, sat down at the small desk, and practically inhaled the turkey sandwich and plain potato chips. Then he turned his attention to the envelope.
Tearing at the flap, Rabble pulled out the final documents from the title company, detailing the purchase of his parents’ old property.
He’d met with the realtor in the city before he’d left, signing the paperwork and officially accepting ownership from an older man who purchased the land at auction after Rabble’s father passed away.
He shoved the documents into his laptop bag, knowing he’d need to review them at some point but not willing to let thoughts of his father and his life on that property weigh on him.
After showering and dressing in a loose pair of cotton pajama pants, he switched off the lights and laid down on the bed, his feet dangling slightly at the end, and snorted, picturing how far Declan and Dash’s feet hung off since they were both several inches taller than him at just over six-foot tall.
He pulled out his phone, the bright light shining strongly in the dark, temporarily blinding him as he squinted at the name that appeared.
His breath hitched at the unknown number.
One word, that was all she’d messaged, just one word.
But Skye had said yes. Sleep evaded him after that, his mind spinning with all of the possibilities open to them now.
Tendrils of doubt tried to worm their way into his thoughts.
They couldn’t pick up where they’d left off as kids, too much had transpired in their lives since their idealistic days of dreaming of running away together.
He’d been to war; his body and mind bore the scars of that.
But she had too, a different sort that wore on her heart and soul.
Would they fall into the same familiarity that felt so natural when they were younger or had life changed them so irrevocably that they couldn’t find middle ground?
Rabble avoided those thoughts, trying to squash them as they arose to focus instead on what he could do to make Skye smile.
Just the mental image of her smiling face lightened Rabble’s mood, the weight that normally sat on his chest, eased.
Her shining face appeared behind his eyelids as he closed his eyes and drifted.
The picture blended Skye’s appearance throughout the time he’d known her.
Her face lit up like it had as children, the excitement of learning something new with him or her laughter at a silly joke he told, but her eyes belonged to that of the woman he was becoming reacquainted with.
There was sadness there, a loneliness he understood and hated, and a sense of hopelessness, of being trapped in a cycle that never ended.
As he drifted off to sleep, he vowed to steal that sadness, the loneliness, the hopelessness, and help her create a life that reflected the dreams they’d chased all those years ago.
***
Rabble spent the entire next day feeling like he was walking on air.
He woke early, momentarily forgetting he and Skye weren’t meeting to work on the parade float.
They’d made plenty of progress staying late the previous two days, in part to remain on schedule and because life had a tendency of getting in the way at the least opportune times.
He also had work obligations during his time in Shiloh Hills, and Skye had a home to maintain and a job helping Elyza during the summer.
With the hot sun still low in the sky, Rabble threw on a pair of basketball shorts and went for a run.
She’d said yes!
His brain pretty much stopped comprehending anything else and played that thought on a loop.
He wanted to take her out immediately, somewhere fancy, something nice, one of the places he’d always thought about taking her to when he was just a poor kid without a dime to his name.
Even then, she’d deserved to be treated like royalty.
He contemplated several restaurants, mentally debating their merits and pitfalls.
Ultimately, he ended up tossing each one he’d considered.
He worried his lip, coated with perspiration, as his brain raced through different date ideas, ones that wouldn’t end up a complete disaster or with Skye changing her mind and telling him to completely fuck off.
They’d been apart for a long while. Maybe she’d changed significantly.
Although from what he’d seen so far, it didn’t appear like she had at the most important levels.
She was still the big-hearted perfectionist with horrible self-doubt he’d loved forever.
Her core personality, the things that made her Skye, remained the same.
Everything else—well, he’d enjoy the opportunity to learn about her now, as a woman; what she liked and disliked, what she did for fun, and what she wanted for the future.
For the final two miles of his run, Rabble pushed himself as far as he could until the sun rose high enough to heat the air unmercifully and the humidity became oppressive, like he had a wet towel pressed across his face. By the time he returned to the bed and breakfast, he was dripping sweat.
When he moved to swipe a piece of bacon from the buffet in the dining room, Mrs. Basket waddled in and swatted his hand with her wrinkled one.
Her soft blue eyes were still as sharp as ever as she admonished him.
“Rabble Raden, you get your hind-end upstairs and shower. You know better than to come to my table smelling like a pigsty.”
Grinning, he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before she could stop him, and her feigned scoff of disgust followed him up the stairs and into the bathroom.
By the time he came down dressed in jeans and a faded black T-shirt, his hair still wet from his shower, Declan and Dash had joined Mrs. Basket and Olivia at the table, and each had a plate piled high with breakfast. Rabble took a clean china plate from the buffet and filled it with bacon and eggs and biscuits with homemade jam.
He groaned with pleasure at his first bite, his eyes rolling slightly.
Declan grinned mischievously from across the table. “Do you need a moment alone with that biscuit, Rab?”
“Don’t you dare flip him off at my table, Rabble Raden,” Mrs. Basket said, her eyes focused on her plate.
Rabble slowly lowered his hand back to the table and blushed. How she knew exactly what he would do had always been a mystery to him, but she’d done the same thing when he’d been a teenager.
Breakfast passed in companionable discussion. Even Dash joined in the conversation when Mrs. Basket or Olivia asked him a direct question, and Rabble smirked at his friend’s discomfort. Conversing was like pulling teeth for Dash.
“How’s our Skye?” Mrs. Basket asked, her question pointed directly at Rabble.
He ducked his head and tried to rein in the grin that wanted to break free. “I think she’s good.”
Mrs. Basket’s sharp eyes found his, “You think , or you know ?”
Rabble chuckled, long and low before settling back into his chair, “Let’s just say, we’re taking a chance on us.”
The reasons he’d left Shiloh Hills and Skye behind no longer held sway over him, he’d grown, matured, and now, nothing and no one would stand in their way of the life they’d always dreamed of.
Mrs. Basket smiled back at him, and gripped his arm with a comforting hand, “I think that’s a chance worth taking, dear.”
He nodded, his eyes going distant as his mind traveled back to Skye for the umpteenth time that day, “Me too.”
“Did you know she goes out to see your mama every month?” The older woman used her fork and knife to slice through a thick cut of cantaloupe on her plate before lifting a small bite to her mouth to chew.
Rabble’s muscles locked up, and the eggs in his mouth turned to ash. Suddenly, the food on his plate and settling in his stomach didn’t seem so appetizing anymore.
Mrs. Basket had no qualms seeking out the things that burdened his soul and laying them bare, though he wished she’d waited until they were alone. That had never been her way though. She always said there was no time for beating about the bush.
Olivia excused herself politely, sending a sympathetic look his way.
He appreciated her gesture, but hated it just the same.
Dash picked up his plate, still full of breakfast, and nudged his brother to join him.
They pushed through the backdoor and sank into the rocking chairs on the porch to finish their morning meal.
“You sure know how to clear a room, Mrs. Basket.” Rabble’s laugh was tight, strained.
She set her cutlery down and grasped his hand in both of her smaller ones, her skin soft and thin. He frowned with worry at the obvious signs of her age.