by Andrea Thome
India had been awake much of the night thinking these same thoughts, but had come to the conclusion that she couldn’t imagine not exploring whatever this was with Wyatt. It was something cosmic, something she couldn’t ignore.
“I’m alright, Jules. I know what I’m doing. If you met him, you’d understand. He’s so different than anyone I’ve ever known. Besides, it’s just dinner,” she added, even though India suspected that was definitely an understatement.
Wyatt did his best to concentrate on the photography that afternoon in class, but he found his mind wandering to thoughts of that evening. He knew he was opening up to the possibility of being hurt again, falling for this woman who was leaving at the end of the week, but he couldn’t help himself.
He was quietly watching her again as Rex showed her how to use some of her camera equipment more thoroughly, intrigued by her obvious talent for photography. He was wondering why she hadn’t pursued it as a career, when Violet sidled up next to him, elbowing him gently in the side.
“Someone’s smitten, huh?” she asked with a grin. “I told you to give her a chance. She’s something special, Wyatt . . . it’s just a feeling I have.”
Wyatt gave her a sideways look, letting out a sigh and turning his attention to the PowerPoint presentation he would finish up the workshop with.
“As much as it pains me to admit it, you’re right, Vi. She’s really something. I told her everything—about Claire and Finn.”
He looked at Violet, more vulnerable than he’d felt in a long time.
“I’m taking her up to the ridge tonight. It’s the first time I’ve shared that with anyone.”
He searched Violet’s face for approval and found it as her eyes filled with tears.
“Oh, Wyatt, you don’t know how happy that makes me. I know it’s hard to move forward, even after all this time, but it’s what Claire would have wanted, and you know that Susan only wants for you to be happy. It’s time for you to start living again.”
She grabbed him in an impulsive hug as she discreetly brushed the tears from her eyes.
“Don’t worry about what the future holds, Wyatt. The two of you met for a reason, so explore that and see where it takes you. Remember, you can’t push the river.”
Wyatt supposed she was right, but it still terrified him to think about where this was headed. What scared him even more was the fact that he had no desire to change course. He was going for it, and he felt himself feeling hopeful for the first time in recent memory.
Wyatt stopped on the way to India’s cottage to pick a handful of delicate pink and white mountain laurels. The warmer weather had the fields awash with the spring blooms, and Wyatt suspected she would love them. He wore an olive-green button-down over a brown T-shirt, with jeans and boots. He’d mentioned to her that they would go casual for dinner, and he couldn’t wait to see her interpretation.
He had never shared this much of his life with a woman, so he was understandably nervous as he pulled up to Woodshed in Olive. He was just getting out of the truck and heading to the door when she opened it and stepped outside.
His heart skipped a beat. She was wearing a flowing blue sundress with a white denim jacket rolled at the sleeves and flat sandals. Her hair was loose around her shoulders in waves.
She smiled shyly and headed down the path toward him.
Wyatt couldn’t speak, so he was glad when she did.
“They’re lovely. Are they for me?” she asked, gesturing toward the flowers in his hand.
He’d forgotten he was even holding them, and they suddenly looked less special next to her.
“Yes, I picked them for you on the way over. The wildflowers are just starting to fill up the meadows; I’ll drive by and show you where I got them on our way.”
He smiled and handed the petite bouquet to India.
“They’re nowhere near as beautiful as you are, though,” he told her.
She blushed then, taking the flowers back inside to find a vase, leaving him waiting by his truck.
While she was inside, Wyatt glanced over and saw Finn walking out of the garden shed, closing it up for the evening. Finn noticed Wyatt waiting there and raised his hand in a silent wave, flashing his son a toothy grin. He couldn’t resist a thumbs-up before turning to head home.
India had come back outside and was locking up the cottage. They walked to Olive, and Wyatt held her door for her as she gathered her skirt and climbed up into the truck.
He took a deep breath and then exhaled before climbing into the driver’s seat. The sun had just set, and dusk was settling over the gardens, bathing everything in a warm glow. He started the truck and they headed down the road, back in the direction of where they’d gone hiking the day before.
“Where are we going?” India asked him as they drove down the familiar road. “Not back into bear country, I hope,” she joked with a smile.
Wyatt laughed. “You’ll see. I want to show you a place that’s special to me. It’s just up here, on the other side of the chapel.”
India had seen the small church on her way to the trailhead the day before, but she’d noticed a private property sign and figured it was reserved for the use of the family. They drove up over one final hill and around a wooded bend to a clearing in the woods.
Sitting there in the opening was a silver Airstream trailer strung with white lights. Under the canopy was a small table for two, set for dinner. A grill stood off to one side, and a small bonfire was ready to be lit. The sky was indigo now, and the twinkling lights made it all seem like a dream. It was the most romantic setting India had ever seen. Wyatt smiled at her reaction and put the truck in park.
“Welcome to my home,” he said to her with a smile.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
They got out of the truck, and Wyatt took her by the hand, leading her to the campsite. He’d obviously come up here earlier to get everything ready, because she could hear the music as they got closer and saw that he had some beer and a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket near the table.
“This place is amazing,” she told him, rubbing his hand in hers. “You live here?”
Wyatt kissed her hand before letting it go, busying himself with lighting the bonfire.
“Not exactly. Well, sometimes. This is a part of my family’s original farm. Susan was kind enough to deed me this land when I turned twenty-one, with hopes that I would one day build a home here so we could remain close. I guess she figures I’m taking my sweet time making that happen.”
He sat back and watched the flames lick the firewood, catching and creating a blaze. She observed his face bathed in firelight as he grew quiet.
“Susan is the closest thing to a mother that I’ve got. She’s been like a parent to me, along with Finn, and I know she’d love nothing more than for me to build on this site and start a family here. I would never intentionally hurt her, but the closest I’ve come is parking this Airstream here instead of building something more permanent. Every time I leave, I know she wonders if I’ll be coming back, and it kills me to do that to her.”
Wyatt stood up then, brushing small flakes of ash from his thighs, and turned his attention back to India.
“I’m thinking it might be time now to consider putting down some roots. Violet and Rex will be gone for the year, so I’m stuck here anyway. Might as well build something with better plumbing,” he added, his eyes twinkling.
India smiled at that, grabbing both of his hands in hers.
“Thank you for bringing me here. This place is really special. If you build, I hope you’ll still keep the Airstream here. It’s amazing, and very romantic, I must say.” She reached up and kissed his cheek quickly before pulling away to create some space between them. “Wait, I forgot; no kissing before dinner.” She laughed. “What can I do to help?”
Wyatt had to order himself not to grab her right then and carry her inside; instead, he asked her to grab the steaks from the fridge. He went to work lighting the grill and th
en poured her a glass of wine, popping open a beer for himself.
India stepped inside the trailer, glancing around at the living space. This was no ordinary Airstream. With a leather banquette and hardwood floors, it looked like it had been decked out by a professional. The walls were a warm squash color, lending a masculine but welcoming feeling to the space. She could see a bed in the rear and imagined him sleeping out here alone. The thought made her sad. She noticed a few prints on the walls and wondered if they were his own work.
After grabbing the steaks she stepped back outside, where Wyatt was busy with the grill. She laid the steaks on the table beside it. They chatted about that day’s class, settling into comfortable conversation while the meat sizzled away.
India wandered out to the edge of the site and looked up at the sky, which was dotted once again with stars. The food smelled delicious, and she took a moment to close her eyes and soak it all in. This was so different from her life back home, but she was so at peace here. She felt bad about her past disdain for all things rural. It had come from a place of fear, she realized. Fear of the unknown. Now here she was, as uncertain about her life as she’d ever been, yet she felt strangely content about it all.
Wyatt announced that dinner was ready, so they sat down at the small table together and tucked in to the delicious meal.
Wyatt had watched her standing under the stars and wondered what she was thinking about. He decided it was time to hear her story.
“Tell me about your life in New York,” he said, topping off her wineglass and grabbing another beer for himself. He was surprised when she hesitated.
“Manhattan is fine. It’s nothing like this, though. I’ve only lived there for less than two years; I relocated for my job,” she told him, sipping her wine and gathering the courage to tell him about her life.
“What do you do?” he asked her, sensing she was afraid to talk about it.
“I work in television, actually. I’m a reporter and anchor on the Today show, at NBC.”
She watched that sink in, his surprised expression confirming that he really had had no idea. She willed herself to tell him the rest. He had shared so much with her; it was only fair that she do the same.
“I’m taking some time off now because of personal stuff that happened several months ago.”
Wyatt watched her and waited for her to tell him the rest.
“I told you I was supposed to get married and that I couldn’t go through with it, but I didn’t mention that I made that decision on our wedding day. I said yes when I should’ve said no, and I got swept up in it all. For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out how to stop it, but fortunately, I found my voice at the last minute.”
She couldn’t meet his eyes but continued on in a rush, anxious to get it all out there.
“My ex-fiancé is the meteorologist at another network, and there was a bit of an uproar about my getting cold feet, so it was suggested that I take some time off until the whole thing blows over.” She smiled meekly and drained her wineglass. Setting it down, she added, “So here I am, out of sight and out of mind.”
Wyatt considered what she’d told him. It was obviously painful for her to talk about, and he appreciated her honesty. He felt like an ass for not knowing who she was, but then why would he? He didn’t even own a TV.
“What was it that made you call it off? Was it marriage or was it the guy?” He stood up to stoke the fire, noticing she was shivering a bit, either from nerves or from the night air.
She answered quickly. “I think it was a little of both. Jack definitely wasn’t the guy for me, I’m sure of that. But I’ve always believed that my life needed to go according to some grand plan I made years ago, and I guess I finally realized that I have to be open to making adjustments when needed. Who knows if I’ll even be welcomed back to work after this. Viewers are fickle. They might decide I’m not what they want since I blew up their idea of a fairy tale.”
Wyatt thought about everything she’d said. He could relate. For so long, he’d resigned himself to the fact that he would live alone. He didn’t want anyone in his life. He could see the value now in making adjustments to that stupid plan. He sat back down across from her.
“I think it’s brave what you did, but I think you’re being a little hard on yourself,” he said. “We all have ideas of the way we want things to go, but, as John Lennon said, ‘Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.’” He gave her a rueful smile. “I never expected to make my life here in Walland after Claire died,” Wyatt continued. “But it’s funny how things can change when you least expect it.”
They looked at each other over the forgotten dinner plates for a moment before Wyatt rose and reached for her hand.
“Dance with me,” he said.
India stood and allowed him to pull her slowly toward him. She rested her head on his shoulder, one arm around him, her other hand in his. They swayed to the strains of Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic,” both relieved to have shared their stories.
It was just the two of them in that moment, everything else forgotten. They stayed that way until the song was finished and was replaced by a John Mayer tune. India lifted her head and looked at Wyatt quizzically.
“How about that kiss you promised me?” she asked, her eyes serious this time.
Wyatt couldn’t help himself. He thrust his hands into her hair and crushed his mouth to hers. It felt like coming home after a long time gone. He’d been craving the taste of her all day, and it was better than he’d remembered. His desire for her was obvious as they stumbled backward together toward the Airstream.
Wyatt placed his hand behind her head to cushion the blow as he pressed her urgently up against the body of the trailer so he could get better leverage. He couldn’t get close enough, and something inside warned him to stop, but he didn’t listen. He was physically unable.
She could feel that he wanted her, and she couldn’t stop herself from shifting her position and grinding her hips to match his. She heard him groan and felt her stomach flutter. He was so unbelievably sexy; she couldn’t seem to maintain control. His hands started to explore, running down her arms and grasping her hands for a moment, before traveling back up her rib cage and grazing the sides of her breasts.
Her sharp intake of breath at that touch was enough to snap him back to reality. He didn’t want to take things too far before the time was right. He couldn’t risk losing her. He was falling fast, and that realization made him pull back and take a step away from her.
“I think we’d better get you home. I want a shot at another date, and if we don’t leave now, this one might never end.” He ran his fingers through his hair and distracted himself with stacking their dishes and taking them inside.
India was trying her best to regain composure, smoothing her own hair back into submission and pulling her jacket back up over her shoulders. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to make him stop, but she wasn’t going to settle for this. She helped him finish clearing the dishes and thanked him for the evening.
On the drive home, she knew what she had to do.
They arrived back at Woodshed, and Wyatt came around the car to walk India to the door. He stepped back to say good night, and she made her move.
“You’re going to have that drink with me tonight, and I won’t take no for an answer.” She saw him hesitate, so she grabbed his hand to reassure him.
“Here’s the catch: I forgot to get bourbon today, so can you run over to the barn and grab us a bottle?”
Wyatt knew he was taking a risk by agreeing, but looking at her, he couldn’t say no.
“OK. I’ll run over and find some. Be back in a few.”
India smiled and went inside the cottage, leaving the screen door unlocked for him.
Wyatt crossed the road to the barn and tried not to break into a run. He wanted her, but he was trying to be a gentleman so she wouldn’t get spooked. Maybe I underestimated her, he thought as he waited for the sta
ff to bring him a bottle of Basil Hayden’s up from storage.
He grabbed two rocks glasses and filled them with ice before heading back across the street. He prayed she hadn’t change her mind in the fifteen minutes he’d been gone. He heard music as he knocked gently before pushing the door open with his knee.
The room was dark, except for candlelight. She wasn’t in the main room, he noticed as he glanced around. He saw that the bathroom door was ajar, and he could hear that the music was coming from inside.
He heard her voice call out softly to him.
“Come in, Wyatt,” she said.
He still had his hands full with the bourbon and glasses, so he used his elbow to nudge the bathroom door open a little farther.
He froze in place.
She was sitting in a steaming tub full of bubbles, her hair in a loose topknot. The room flickered with candlelight, and he could see her clothes in a heap on the floor where she’d stepped out of them. Norah Jones was asking someone to come away with her.
India asked him something else altogether.
“Take a bath with me, Wyatt.”
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
He was dumbstruck. She was a vision, and she was inviting him into a dream. She sat in an oversized claw-foot tub, which was centered in the middle of the room between two windows. She’d lined the sills with tea lights, and, if the empty container beside her was any indication, she’d added bourbon-vanilla bubble bath to the tub.
He somehow figured out how to control his body again.
Their eyes locked on each other; he moved to the vanity and poured them a drink to share. He set the glass on a small table next to the tub. Leaning over her, so their faces were just inches apart, he spoke for the first time since entering the room.
