9. Della #3
We don’t exchange words, just watch nature in all her glory.
From that point, it happens fast, and the sun continues to move up in the heart.
I can no longer stare because I don’t want to go blind, but it lights everything up in the most perfect of ways.
Part of my heart cries out that maybe this is symbolic of me… maybe it’s my sunrise moment, too.
“Amberheart Valley earns her name,” I whisper. “This is extraordinary.”
“It’s not too shabby,” he smiles. “I’m glad you got to see this, Della, and I’m going to take it as a sign of good things to come for you.”
It’s as if the man next to me just read my mind. He owes me nothing. Not a place to stay, kind words, flirty smiles, nothing. And yet, he’s giving without question. I take another sip of my coffee and take in everything in front of me.
“Alright, it’s time for me to get to the barn. You are welcome to come help or just drop me off and head back to your cabin.”
“I’ll come,” I say, probably too quickly. I’m still not ready to part ways with Jaxon Wills, and at that, I realize I might be tipping into one-sided trauma bond territory. “Thank you for taking the time to share that with me, Jaxon.”
“Worth every second, Della,” he stands and holds out his hand. I grab it and he smirks at me as he pulls me up. “I’ll take the mug too.”
“Oh! I’m sorry!” My face flushes with embarrassment. Of course he was reaching for the mug and not me.
“Do you have to go to the bathroom or anything before we leave?” he asks.
“Yes, please.”
“Sure thing, I’ll show you where it is,” Jaxon gestures for me to head in, and when I step through the back door, I can’t help but take in his space.
I work out of a PT office now, but before I did, I would sometimes push into people’s homes for rehab and learned how much a peek inside a stranger’s home can tell you about them.
Jaxon is a bachelor through and through, but this house contains the same warmth he radiates.
I shouldn’t be hugely surprised because the man has taken me under his wing without question.
The oversized sectional has blankets strewn over it, and I want to take off my layers and sink right in.
There is a fireplace to the left, and above it is some kind of animal head that creeps me out.
How do you just exist with that staring at you?
There is an almost too-big TV on the other wall, and on the console below it, a sword is proudly displayed among a bunch of family photos.
I glance at them and see him as a beaming uncle holding the newborn twins, a friend laughing with his buddies, a sibling goofing around in a photo, and a proud member of the Wills family in the eight-by-ten one that stands tall among the chaos.
The kitchen is untidy enough to look lived-in, but not messy, and my eye is drawn to the refrigerator, where toddler artwork lines the entire surface.
“Jax, this is so you! I love it. Minus the head. Aren’t you worried about the ghost of the deer creature haunting you? I assume you shot it.”
He spits the rest of his coffee into the sink. “The ghost of the deer creature? Um, no. I’m not worried about the elk’s ghost. Yes, my brothers and I have done a few elk hunts, and Magnum here was a trophy one I shot a few years ago.”
My head snaps toward him. “Magnum?”
“Well, Sir Magnum Biggs is his full name, if we’re being proper.
I know this means nothing to you, but he’s a trophy elk.
Do you see the thickness of those antlers?
Not many can boast that size, but Sir Magnum can.
He’s impressive in his own right, but when you add a good rack?
It’s an exceptional pairing,” he says without taking his eye off the elk.
I try to school my face, not knowing whether his comment is serious or tongue-in-cheek. Hunting is most certainly a foreign activity to me.
“Anyway, down that hall to your left,” he says, pointing.
When I come out, he kicks it into gear. “Alright, Del, I gotta go. Again, you can drop me off and continue on your way if you’d like.”
Five minutes ago, I was all in on helping with barn chores, whatever that meant, but after looking at the sectional, and adding the hours of sleep I had the last two days, heading back to my cabin seems like the more appealing option.
“Would you kill me if I said I’m going to drop you off after making you late?”
His laugh rings out around his house. “Not in the least. Honestly, because I’m running so far behind, it will be easier for me to just power through. You can join tomorrow or something, if you’re still around. But really, there’s no reason you shouldn’t just ride out the storm here.”
The comment catches me off guard. Although I am acutely aware of my situation, I have been so immersed in Jaxon Wills that I kind of forgot I’m leaving. What a weird thing to forget.
“Yeah, that sounds like it might be the better idea then. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Give me a break. As long as you won’t get teary if you’re away from me for ninety seconds, we should be good,” he jokes and waggles his brows.
“I have faith I’ll survive,” I dryly reply.
“Barely,” he adds, nudging my shoulder.
“Barely,” I laugh.