Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Matilda gaped at Rita. “What?”
“He’s my son. I didn’t know who you were, why you were asking about him, so I kept quiet.”
“I don’t know what to say. I guess that makes sense.” A sense of excitement at finally having something to hold onto, swept through Matilda. “So, can I ask where he is?”
“He’s in the army, so he moves around. He’s currently in Germany.”
“Wow, I’m in shock. He’s my first cousin, at least I think he is. According to my DNA profile. I really need to speak to him so I can find out.”
“I know you believe he’s your cousin, but I really don’t think you’ve got the right Tyler,” Rita said gently. “All of his cousins are accounted for. In my family, there’s just me and my sister. I have Tyler and a daughter named Sophie. My sister, Helen, had one daughter, Julie. That’s it. My husband didn’t have any siblings. Tyler’s father died a while back in a workplace accident, and my daughter, Sophie, lives in Colorado and she hasn’t married or had children yet. So, it’s not possible Tyler has any relatives we don’t know about. It must be another Tyler Osbourne.”
Matilda’s brow furrowed as she thought through the implications of what Rita was saying. It was another dead end.
“I’m sorry,” Rita continued. “I know you were hoping for more than that. But I can assure you, he doesn’t have any long lost first cousins. It isn’t possible.”
“That’s okay. Thanks for letting me know.” Matilda slumped in her seat.
They drove back to the bed and breakfast together. Matilda chatted about her family in Australia, her job working with animals. Rita talked about the cafe and how she’d inherited it from her father. The lake house and how much it meant to her. Matilda felt a connection with Rita. The woman was genuine, warm, had a big laugh and even bigger smile. There was something special about her that made Matilda want to get to know her better, spend time together.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Rita asked.
“I did, back in Australia. Although he broke up with me before I came here. But he says he’s just taking some time, so I’m not sure if it’s a permanent break-up.”
“How do you feel about him?”
Matilda leaned against the truck window, staring out into the gathering darkness. “I love him. I guess. I thought I did, anyway. We’ve been dating for two years. I kept waiting for him to pop the question. But then, we both got comfortable. We’d spend time together on the weekends, but our weekdays were our own. I didn’t think much about him while I was working, or even after work when I was at home or out with friends, which I know is probably a bad sign. I honestly don’t know how I feel about him anymore. When he broke up with me, I thought I’d be devastated. But those feelings never came.”
Rita tutted. “It sounds to me like the break-up might have been the right thing to do.”
“How can you tell? How did you know your husband was the one for you?”
Rita sighed, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear stick. “We both just knew. I don’t know how to describe it. We’d only been on three dates, and I was looking at this man across the table from me at the bowlin’ alley. He was smiling about something, and he took a fry out of the basket and pushed it into his mouth, and I just knew. He was the man I would spend my life with. There wasn’t a specific reason or anything like that. He felt like coming home, as though I’d known him forever. I was so comfortable around him, I didn’t have to pretend to be anyone or wear a mask. It wasn’t scary or intimidatin’ to talk to him. We clicked. That was it.”
“Wow. I wish I could say the same for me and Cam.”
“I’d never felt anything like it before. Or since. It was special. We had a special kind of love, we always said that. And I miss him every day.” Rita wiped her eyes.
“That must be hard. I hope I find love like that someday.”
“You will, honey. But don’t settle for less. Because let me tell you, even though we were so much in love, marriage was hard. We had a whole lotta ups and downs sometimes I thought we lived on a rollercoaster.” She grinned. “You don’t want to get on the marriage rollercoaster with a man you’re not hopelessly in love with. You won’t make it.”
“What if I do love him?”
“You don’t.”
“How do you know?” Matilda asked, desperate for an answer that would make everything clear.
“Because when you’re in love you know it. There’s not a question anywhere in your soul. If you’re doubtin’, it’s not love. Not the right kind that can make a marriage work, anyway.”
After that, Matilda was quiet, watching the houses and shops they passed.
Rita dropped her off at the bed and breakfast, then waved goodbye. Matilda wandered up to the front door and let herself in. It was dark inside, which surprised her. There was a lit candle at the reception desk, but no one on duty.
A shiver ran through her. It was like walking into a haunted house. The old building creaked and groaned right then, making her jump. She was exhausted after a long day of socialising with strangers, standing in the cold, climbing a mountain. And now she had to face this darkened building alone? There was no one else around that she could see. And the only sound was some faint music in the distance, the wind in the eaves outside, and another creak of floorboards.
With a quick intake of breath, she headed for her room. If she could lock herself in there, she’d feel a lot more comfortable. When she reached the room, she found the door ajar. The whole situation was getting creepier by the moment. She pushed the door inwards, and poked her head through, heart in her throat.
“Hello?”
“Oh, hey,” Ryan said.
He stood on a ladder, his tall frame casting a long shadow from a candle on the chest of drawers nearby.
“What’s going on?”
“Sorry to disturb, the electricity is out and I’m giving everyone candles.”
“I can see that. What’s with the ladder?”
“I’m checking all the wiring. Trying to figure out what’s going on. Something’s tripped the electrical circuit. I’ll have to get an electrician out tomorrow if the power hasn’t come back on and I can’t figure out what’s causing the issues.”
“Oh, okay. Well, do what you have to do. I’m glad you’re here, actually. I thought no one was around, and it was a little spooky.”
He smiled. “Should I tell you a scary story? You know, one of those campfire tales?”
“Don’t you dare,” she said, her nostrils flaring.
She marched into the bathroom to get ready for bed. When she emerged, he was still tinkering with the wiring. She sat on the sofa, curled her legs up beneath her with a gigantic yawn. As soon as he left, she would fall into bed. This jet lag was killing her. She couldn’t manage to stay up until a decent bedtime yet. Although she’d done better today than she had the previous few.
“So are you some kind of electrician?” she asked.
He laughed. “Not exactly. I do a bit of this and that.”
“You’re the handyman.”
“I guess you could call me that.” He tested the blow heater she’d set up that morning. She’d found it in the closet and had needed a little extra heat to wake herself up.
“Rita, the woman who owns the Honeysuckle Cafe, told me you live next door to her at the lake?”
“That’s right.”
“Do you like it there?”
“It’s good.”
“Do you always use so many words?”
He looked at her, one eyebrow quirked. “No.”
“Okay, great.” Her fingers tapped out a rhythm on the arm of the sofa. “How long do you think this will take?”
“As long as it takes,” he said absently, as he set aside the heater and moved onto the next appliance. “I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”
“No hurry,” she replied, with a yawn. She foraged around in her purse and found a Three Musketeers bar she’d bought at the corner store the previous day. She unwrapped it and took a bite. It wasn’t the most nutritious dinner, but she couldn’t bring herself to go out and find something better and they’d eaten a late lunch or maybe it was an early dinner at Stone Mountain. So really the candy bar was more like supper. Her bed was calling her name, and she looked at it longingly.
Then, her gaze shifted to Ryan. He was focused on what he was doing. Dressed in well-cut jeans and a grey sweater, he looked like the offspring of a construction worker and a GQ model. He wasn’t her type. She’d always gone for the more bookish men with the earnest brow, who talked about classic literature and liked to rock climb on the weekends. But maybe her type was all wrong. None of them had ever given her the kind of feelings Rita had spoken of when she talked about falling in love with her husband. Would Matilda ever get to experience that kind of love? Probably not. She didn’t have the right personality type for it. She was a serious kind of person, generally didn’t let her emotions control her. Did people like Matilda ever really fall in love, or did they simply make a conscious choice to love someone and spend their lives together?
“Did you have a good day?” Ryan asked as he tested the mini fridge.
She yawned again, rested her head on the end of the sofa. “Yeah… I did. It was nice. Rita took me for a family picnic. I got to meet her lovely family, climbed Stone Mountain. It was fun.”
“Rita’s good people.”
“But it’s the wrong Tyler,” she mumbled, her eyes drifting shut.
“Huh? What was that about Tyler? I didn’t hear you.”
“He’s not the one.” She tried to say more, but she was already asleep.
When she woke, she found herself being lifted by strong arms from the sofa. He held her close where it was warm and she felt safe. She could stay in that place forever, it felt so good.
“Shhh, go back to sleep,” she heard.
Then, he carried her nestled against his chest to the bed, set her down on the soft mattress, and pulled the covers up over her.
She didn’t open her eyes, but she could feel him standing over her, watching. Then, he left. Her eyes blinked open briefly to see him blow out the candle and pull the door shut behind him. When he was gone, she fell immediately back into a deep slumber, unable to resist the pull of sleep any longer. And she dreamed of fried chicken, endless hiking through thick woods, and a tall, strong man ahead of her, always just out of reach.