9. Della #2
“Definitely cougar food,” he laughs, but his hand lingers a few extra seconds before he pulls away.
Pulling up to another wrought-iron fence that reads "private property”, he reaches out to enter a code. The gate creaks open, and he zips in, climbing into a more forested area.
“This is the path to our houses. Each of us has one up here,” he explains.
“In a compound?” I ask.
“Kinda. It’s why I seek refuge in the mechanic garage,” he laughs, and the throaty, warm sound wraps around me.
When the trees clear, it gives way to a house that I swear can’t be real. It’s as beautiful as the lodge, and on the front steps, there are two people in rocking chairs, drinking coffee with blankets over them. It’s a scene straight out of a Hallmark movie, and Jaxon maneuvers the cart right up.
“Here we go,” he nudges me. “Ready to meet Dale and Beth Wills?”
“Hi,” the woman shouts, “Hazie told me you had a visitor from Chicago. Welcome to Heart of Will! I’m Beth, and this is Dale!”
“Hi, I’m Della,” I say as Beth is already out of her seat, coming in for a hug before we set foot on the porch. “Thank you for your incredible kindness in opening your home to me. I have felt nothing but love since getting here last night.”
“That’s great to hear,” his dad smiles. “Don’t tell me he’s suckered you into helping with chores this morning, though,” he says, pointing to Jaxon.
“I’m helping by choice,” I smile back. “It’s going to be a first for me. We are woefully lacking ranches in the city.”
“Good luck then, dear!” Beth says before turning back to her chair. This woman radiates sunshine on this dark, chilly morning; it’s no surprise where Jaxon’s kindness comes from. These two are adorable. I mean, having coffee together in the cold, dark morning air.
“What are you two doing up, anyway?” Jaxon asks.
“You’re joking, right?” Dale asks.
“Not really,” he says back.
“Peak sunrise, Jax!” Beth gushes. “I’m not willing to miss a single sunbeam!”
“Oh, Jesus. Yeah. I can’t… yeah,” Jaxon trails off as I look at him, trying to figure out what peak sunrise means. He seems genuinely flustered that he forgot about whatever it is. His sister said something about a sunrise last night, too. “It was a chaotic night. You hear that cat?”
“Ooh, that was an angry one,” his mother replies. As if hearing murder cougars is commonplace. I could live here fifty years, and I would never be okay with that.
“Okay, we’re going to keep going, but enjoy the show! It’s a perfect morning for it!” Jaxon says to his parents as he backs away, touching my shoulder to signal we’re leaving.
“Sure is!” his dad replies. “Make sure Della gets to see it, eh?”
“Will do, Dad,” he says before ushering me back to my seat.
I loved the simplicity of this interaction.
A little morning check-in. And it made me smile that it wasn’t in passing, too.
He pulled that cart over and gave his parents the time of day.
My heart cries out wondering the last time I had a positive interaction with my father…
maybe when I agreed to marry Tripp? Pretty sure that’s the last time he hugged me.
Christ, the man full-on didn’t talk to me at all for about six months after my mother died, and the subsequent year, it was only a handful of times.
He opened up conversation again at about eighteen months when he wanted to re-introduce me to Tripp.
Jaxon kept going, and we came upon another fantastic house. “Each of our houses are on four acres,” he explains again. “We have quite a bit of space. This one is Everest’s, then we’ll have Cayson’s, then mine, then Hazel’s.”
The craftsmanship of these houses is a lost art.
“So what did your dad and Hazel mean about the sunrise? Is it really that special?”
“Oh, nothing big, just the entire reason our town is called Amberheart Valley,” he replies with a lopsided grin as he parks the golf cart, drops that bombshell, and hops out.
When we arrive at the house he calls home, I can’t help but glance at him a dozen times.
I know they own all this, and it makes sense to have places on the property, but this is…
this is a lot. I can see Hazel’s house in the distance, too.
The same person must have designed all of them, but each house has its own special flair, and I just can’t get over it.
We walk onto the patio that wraps around the entire house. It’s cozy, inviting, and I could just imagine how much time he spends out here.
I expect to go inside, but instead, he throws some cushions on the chair and tells me to take a seat.
“What do you want in your coffee?” he asks as he’s heading inside.
Coffee? I thought he was just going to change. “Cream and sugar, please,” I respond, trying to remember if Tripp ever brought me coffee. And I thought we were already late for barn chores?
Regardless, I sit and wait patiently to see what happens next.
The first signs of light appear as the entire sky washes in a muted lilac, and I watch with anticipation.
A few minutes later, Jaxon comes out in work jeans, a jacket, and a winter hat, holding two mugs of coffee; the steam rising into the morning air. Can this man look bad?
“Here you go,” he says with a smile. I take it, grateful, but still not understanding what’s happening.
“You’re lucky, Tatroe. You breezed into Amberheart when our little town is in the middle of putting on its yearly show.
” Quickly, he jumps to the golf cart to get the blanket and puts it back over my lap before settling next to me.
“Each year in April, for about three weeks, the sunrise appears through the heart opening in the breccia cliffs and lights it aglow.”
My head jerks to where he is pointing, and sure enough, there is a silhouette of a heart shape carved out of the cliff that’s now faintly visible in the hint of daylight.
“Wow.” The word slips out.
“Yeah, it’s pretty stunning,” he says.
“I feel like that would be on some top ten list or something,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee. Grasping my mug tighter, I marvel at the fact that it’s exactly how I would have made mine.
“Oh, it is. I mean, people come here to see it. We are operating at about half capacity right now because we get an influx for it. It works out well because it becomes our yearly test run for high season.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a lot of surprises out here, Jax?”
“I like to think we’re a pretty open book in these parts,” he smiles and sips his coffee.
When I look back up, the sky is changing with every second. The pinks, pale blues, purples, and peaches are bleeding into each other, and it keeps getting brighter.
“Don’t we have barn chores?” I ask. I don’t want to leave, but I also don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t do what he’s supposed to.
“Eventually, yeah. The sun will poke through in less than thirty minutes, and conditions are perfect. Plus, this is smack in the middle of the three weeks, which means it’s going to rise right at the bottom tip of the heart. We’re going to ride this one out.”
“You don’t have to do that, Jax. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
“Trouble is my middle name, Tatroe. Besides, I’m excited to show you this. It’s extraordinary.”
The two of us sit nestled in our respective chairs.
The steam on my breath would be easy to blame on the cold morning air, but I really think it’s because I’m warm from the inside out.
Jax asks me some questions, and I do the same to him; but we are mostly wasting our morning away in the best way possible. Beth and Dale have the right idea.
I pull out my phone and start snapping photos as everything changes, but realize it’s stupid because nothing ever looks as good as it does in person. So I put it away and decide to enjoy the moment.
Soon after, a gold color becomes increasingly prominent at the bottom point, right before it turns to fire. When the sun breaks free, sunbeams explode all around. True to what Jaxon said, the light spills over and kisses the valley. I can’t help but pull out my phone and try to capture it again.