Chapter 4
To Build a Home
Callie
The next morning, sitting in the comfiest bed I’ve ever laid in, I peer out the windows.
It looks like the entire town has been covered in a giant white blanket.
No tire tracks indicate where the road is, and the whole place is silent and restful.
The snow falls in wispy flakes, blowing peacefully around.
For the first time in an incredibly long time, I feel a sense of calm in my chest. A sense of rightness.
Is this what I’ve been looking for?
Throwing on an oversized t-shirt, a pair of leggings, and mismatched socks, I get ready to head downstairs where I was promised breakfast. Sweeping my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head, I walk into the hallway.
I follow the scent of coffee and bread down the stairs and find a kind-looking older woman setting out a breakfast spread consisting of fresh bread, jams and jellies, fruit, yogurt, and delicious, rich-smelling coffee. Orange juice and milk round out the options.
“Good morning, dear, I’m Mrs. Cox. I believe you met my husband last night.
” She smiles openly, and something about her makes me want to tell her everything about myself.
“I heard you had a bit of an accident. That happens when the snow comes on like this. You’re from North Carolina?
I’ve never been myself, but I hear it’s lovely.
” She speaks animatedly, her short, rotund body moving easily around the space, a floral-patterned apron tied around her middle.
Her gray hair is pulled into a plait at the nape of her neck and her blue eyes are bright behind the giant glasses covering half her face.
She finally takes a breath and leaves an opening for me to speak. Laughing a little awkwardly, I reply, “Ah yeah, I got caught up, I guess. Apparently, my tires aren’t great, or at least, that’s what the very gruff man who gave me a blanket told me.”
“Oh, who was that, then?”
“I’m not sure. He was just sort of rude and gave me a blanket, then Tommy drove me over here.”
“I’ll find out who it was. What’s your name? My old memory fails me.” She laughs.
“Caroline, or Callie, Pearce. Either one works.” She seems to know every bit of information I passed along to her husband or reached her by way of gossip before I even made it down this morning, but my name was apparently too much for her.
“What a lovely name. Have some breakfast; I’ll be just in the kitchen. Let me know if you need anything,” she tells me before bustling off to the kitchen, her flowery apron billowing slightly as she goes.
Sipping the best cup of coffee of my life, I moan—out loud. I hear a chuckle behind me and slowly turn to see a tall man standing in the doorway to the dining room. My eyes widen at the sight of him, which elicits another deep chuckle causing my cheeks to warm.
I scan him from a well-worn, brown cowboy hat with dark blond peeking out around the back to dirty, old, brown boots.
He wears a navy blue, long-sleeve henley tight across his biceps and abdomen, outlining his abs, and form-fitting jeans, sporting a rather large silver belt buckle with a man on a bull on it.
Realizing I’ve been appraising him longer than is strictly polite, I clear my throat and focus back on his face.
“Good morning, darlin’. Have you seen Mrs. Cox around here?” he asks with an accent that’s a little bit country and a little bit mid-western, a flirty smirk slightly lifting the side of his mouth.
“She’s, uh, she’s in the kitchen.” I try to regain my self-respect after just ogling him like he’s on the cover of a magazine.
“Aunt Lizzie!” he yells out unexpectedly, shattering the silence in the room, making me jump.
She comes rushing out of the kitchen, a beaming smile on her face and pulls his large frame into her arms, hugging him tight around his middle. Seeing him smile and wrap his arms around her too feels comfortable and loving but also like I’m interrupting. I move to stand.
“Oh no you don’t, you’re not done. Don’t let us interrupt,” she scolds me and I sit back down.
“Callie, this is my nephew, Cash. He’s my sister’s boy.
Of course, she’s down there in Bozeman for her treatments, and has left my sweet boy all alone.
” She gently pats his cheek, eliciting an eyeroll from him.
“You don’t have to tell every stranger who passes through town all our business. And I’m thirty-four, Aunt Lizzie, I don’t need my mama to take care of me.” He lovingly teases her.
“Now look here, Cash Colter—” His laughter-scrunched bright blue eyes swing to me with a knowing look before he rolls them, again. “—until you have a woman of your own to lead you around, we have to take care of you.”
“Alright, into the kitchen with you, woman.” He herds her toward the kitchen door, shooting me a wink over his shoulder. I stifle a laugh in response.
In the afternoon, having spent most of the day in the library curled up reading a cowboy romance, I wander into the reception area in search of Mrs. Cox. I can’t quite identify why I’m all restless today, but I suspect it might have to do with the cowboy bursting into my breakfast this morning.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Cox. I was hoping you could point me in the direction of somewhere I can buy sundries, like a pharmacy or something. And a place to have a meal.”
“Well, the snow has stopped so most stuff should be opening but Ralph’s, the pharmacy, you know, won’t open until tomorrow.
I think the diner—oh wait. I talked to Tommy’s mom who told me that he told her about the accident last night.
And I know who left the blanket.” She looks at me with excitement shining in her eyes.
“Oh, do you?” Small towns, news travels fast.
“Yes, it was the Williams boy. Duke’s his name. He owns the bar, right at the end of Pike Street. Waylon’s it’s called. He opens around four. Head out the door, down the street two blocks and you’ll see it. Not much else up that way. That was real sweet of him, worrying about you.”
“Yes, so nice. You were saying about the diner?” I need to end her speculating about the ‘sweetness’ of his gesture. I don’t want to talk about the grumpy cowboy. Are there any not attractive men in this town?
“Right, right. Just down Mainstreet a-ways, green awning. Mable’s Diner. She has delicious tuna salad sandwiches.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cox. I’m going to head out. I’ll be back later.”
Turning, I push through the door, in search of anything but tuna salad sandwiches.
I find Mable’s a few blocks down and swing the door open, kicking the snow off my boots as the bell jingles over my head.
Every face in the place turns in my direction, and blood floods my face under the scrutiny of the tiny diner’s customers.
“Hey, you want a table? How many?” a young woman in black pants and a white polo, wearing a red apron with Mable’s written across the front, asks me from behind the long counter.
It’s a small restaurant, exactly what I would expect from this miniscule town. There are only six small tables, a few booths, and a long bar. The floor is pale blue and white checkered, and the tables are dark wood. It’s warm and comfortable.
“Oh, it’s just me.”
“Want to sit at the bar or a table?” She holds up a menu.
“The bar is fine.”
“Sit anywhere, then,” she tells me, handing me a menu. Nothing crazy to be found in the selections, just expected diner food.
“What can I get for you?” She comes over, pen and pad in hand. “Wait, are you the girl Tommy helped in the ditch during the storm last night?” Good Lord, small towns. Can I have no anonymity here?
“Yep, that’s me. Can I get a turkey sandwich and a coke, please?”
She scribbles on her pad. “You’re staying with the Coxes, right? Up at the B&B?”
“Sure am.” I keep my answers curt, dissuading further conversation. She wanders away and I drop my head in my hand.
“No, you can’t disappear into the floor but I’m willing to sacrifice my stunning reputation to sit with you, if you’d like?” Lifting my head, I see Cash has occupied the stool next to me, offering me a friendly smile.
I hesitantly smile back. “Hey. No sacrificing necessary, I’m okay alone. They’ll stop staring—eventually.”
“Not likely. Less likely with me sitting here. At least you’ll have a friend, though.”
My waitress comes back, setting a Coke in front of me. She looks at Cash and flashes him a truly blinding smile. “Hey, Cash. What can I get ‘ya?” She leans slightly over the bar, as though food isn’t the only thing on offer.
I side-eye him, trying to sort this out. “Hey Dani, can I get the tuna salad sandwich please and a Coke?”
“Sure, honey.”
I snort out a laugh as she walks away. I can hardly contain my giggles. The flirting. The sandwich. It’s too much. I’m coming undone at the seams. Clutching my abdomen, I choke a little on my laughter. Cash lands a warm hand on my back, patting slightly.
“You good, darlin’?” He looks equally amused and concerned, like perhaps I’m having some sort of mental episode. I laugh harder. “Callie, you’ve gotta tell me what’s so funny, I’m dying here.” Leaning in to stage whisper, he says, “People are staring.”
Sucking in a few lungfuls of air, I take a huge gulp of my drink, and it’s so cold I can’t breathe momentarily, which spurs on more laughter, and the whole while Cash casually rubs circles between my shoulder blades, his hand large and warm.
Finally getting myself under control, I manage to squeak out, “The last thing your aunt said, as I walked out, was Mable’s has really good tuna salad sandwiches.” I start laughing again, holding up a hand. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not that funny. It’s been a really long week.”
Cash joins in my laughter, and I enjoy the deep, throaty quality of it.
I may look slightly like a lunatic, but it feels so good to laugh with someone. No pressure, just laughter over sandwiches.
I have to say, though, the look on Dani’s face makes me a little uneasy.