Postcards from Cedar Key

by Terri DuLong

  A little while later, I looked out the windshield and could now see mountains in the distance. “Oh, look. We must be getting close.”

  “Yup. We should be at the cabin within the hour.”

  After driving down a dirt road between Ellijay and Blue Ridge, we pulled up in front of the log home about five-thirty, and as soon as I stepped out of the car I inhaled the fresh, cool mountain air.

  “This is great,” I said, looking around. Huge trees were filled with leaves of yellow, orange, and red, and I could just make out a pond in back of the house.

  Saxton came over, stood behind me, and wrapped his arms around my waist as he nuzzled my neck. “I think we’ll enjoy our stay here.”

  I turned around and his lips met mine. When we broke apart, I wondered if we’d be utilizing both bedrooms after all.

  Saxton took a deep breath and popped the trunk open with his remote. “We may as well take in one piece of luggage,” he said, reaching for one of his bags.

  “Good idea.” I pulled out my black canvas bag containing toiletries before following Saxton up three steps to the deck.

  He unlocked a double set of French doors and we stepped into a gorgeous living room with both a pitched ceiling and walls covered with honey-color wood. A cushy sofa filled with pillows faced a fieldstone fireplace that reached to the ceiling. I glanced at the paisley fabric club chair with matching ottoman and thought it would be a perfect spot for knitting.

  “Very pretty,” I said as Saxton led the way to a beautiful kitchen with cherrywood cabinets and granite countertops.

  Another set of French doors led out to a screen-enclosed deck where I saw a wooden swing, a large hot tub, and a patio set, all of which overlooked a pond surrounded by trees.

  “Bedrooms and bath must be down this way,” he said, heading down a hallway.

  I stepped into the first bedroom on the left and saw an oak four-poster king-size bed. Very nicely decorated and cozy. Off the bedroom was an elegant bathroom complete with Jacuzzi tub.

  “Why don’t you take this one?” Saxton said, and walked across the hallway.

  “Oh, this is nice too.” I stood beside him and saw this room also had a king-size bed and attached bathroom.

  “Okay,” he said, pulling me into an embrace. “I think the sleeping arrangements are sorted out. Let’s get the rest of the stuff out of the car and then we can settle in.”

  We made two more trips and I placed the picnic basket on top of the kitchen counter.

  “That’ll do it. I’m glad I thought to bring our supper for tonight. Now we don’t have to leave to go out to eat.”

  “You’re a good planner,” Saxton said as he removed three bottles of wine from a bag.

  I smiled and nodded. “So are you. I’m going to get unpacked.”

  “Me too, and I’ll have a glass of wine waiting for you when you’re finished.”

  When I walked into the living room, not only was a glass of wine waiting for me, but Saxton already had the fire roaring.

  “Oh, that looks great,” I said, walking up beside him. I reached my hand out toward the flames. “Nice and warm too.”

  “Yeah, as soon as that sun goes down it begins to get pretty nippy here in the mountains. Here you go,” he said, passing me a wineglass. “Here’s to our first getaway together and here’s to us.”

  I touched the rim of his glass with mine. “To us,” I said before taking a sip. “This is very good. What is it?”

  “It’s a Barbera. Originated in the hills of Monferrato, in central Piemonte, Italy.”

  I took another sip and allowed the robust flavor to touch my palate. “I definitely like it.”

  “Good, I’m glad.” Saxton took my hand, leading me to the sofa.

  I curled up next to him and gazed at the flames flickering in the fireplace. The log house, the wine, the fire, but most of all Saxton, gave me a secure feeling—a feeling of permanence and stability.

  “Thank you,” I told him. “Thank you for inviting me here with you.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “I’m glad you agreed to come. I think we’ll have a nice five days here.”

  “Where are we going tomorrow?” I asked, sitting up straighter. All of a sudden, I felt like a kid on a summer vacation.

  “Anywhere you’d like. There’s lots of great towns around and we can explore all of them. Murphy, North Carolina, is a short drive from here. A cute little place that reminds me of Mayberry R.F.D.”

  “Sounds like fun. Then Murphy it is.”

  We finished our wine and I headed to the kitchen. “Why don’t you get some nice music going on that CD player and I’ll set out our supper,” I told him.

  I reached into the basket and removed a cooked ham before popping a dish of scalloped potatoes into the microwave to heat. I found placemats, plates, and silverware and got the table set. After removing the scalloped potatoes, I placed a bowl of green bean casserole into the microwave and then lit the candles on the table. Stepping back to assess my work, I smiled. All of a sudden I felt like a proper housewife arranging a seductive dinner for her husband.

  Strains of Vivaldi filled the room as Saxton joined me.

  “Looks great,” he said, placing a kiss on my cheek before we sat down.

  It was great, and when we finished, Saxton helped with the cleanup.

  “Maybe we can finish our wine on the deck,” he said, tugging a black sweatshirt over his head. “But you’ll probably need a sweater or something.”

  I grabbed an Irish knit sweater that I’d knitted years ago from my bureau drawer, and on the way out of my room, I paused outside of Saxton’s door and peeked in. Good Lord! We’d only been in the house a few hours, yet his bedroom looked like a mini-tornado had swept through. Pants were flung across the bed, shirts and sweaters were stacked on the bureau, and one piece of luggage lay open on the floor, empty but not put away. I shook my head and let out a deep sigh. I might be falling in love with this man—but I wasn’t at all sure I could cope with his messy lifestyle.

  I joined him on the deck and sat beside him on the swing, reaching for the wineglass he held out.

  “Thanks,” I said as my body caught the synchronized motion.

  After a few minutes Saxton put an arm around my shoulders. “Anything wrong?”

  I debated whether to be honest or push aside my concerns. I went for honest. “Well . . . I was . . . kinda wondering.... Is there any reason why you didn’t unpack properly and hang up your clothes and use the bureau?”

  He threw his head back laughing. Was nothing serious to this man?

  “Ah, got a peek in my room, did you?”

  When he didn’t offer an explanation, I shifted to face him, waiting for an answer.

  “Well, I’m on vacation,” he said, as if that accounted for the condition of his bedroom.

  I resisted telling him that based on the clutter I’d observed in his house, he must be on a permanent vacation.

  “Does it bother you?” he asked.

  “I guess it does. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

  “Hmm, you really are a bit compulsive with orderliness, aren’t you?”

  “It doesn’t have a thing to do with being compulsive,” I said, annoyance lacing my words. “It has to do with simply being tidy.”

  He pulled me close as his lips touched mine. Damn. The man might surround himself with clutter, but he was a great kisser.

  “I promise,” he said, between nibbling on my lower lip, “I’ll get . . . everything . . . straightened up . . . in there.”

  I nodded as I lost myself to the passion of his kiss.

  When he pulled away, he buried his face in my neck. “Good thing,” he whispered in my ear, “that we’re not sharing the same room, huh?”

  I smiled. After those kisses I wasn’t so sure about that.

  And a few hours later when I got into my bed—I was less sure.

  24

  I woke the next morning to the aroma of coffee and bacon
filling my nostrils. Turning over, I glanced at the bedside clock. Eight-thirty? God! I never sleep this late at home!

  After using the bathroom, I slipped into a pair of sweats and padded down the hallway to the kitchen. What greeted me caused a deep whoosh of air to escape from my lungs.

  Saxton stood at the stove stirring something in a cast iron fry pan. The orderly kitchen of the night before now looked like a four-year-old had been let loose unsupervised. The counter was covered with bowls, utensils, a carton of eggs, milk, and other assorted items. The kitchen table held pages of a newspaper in disarray, and the sink was filled with enough plates and bowls to require two loads in the dishwasher.

  Saxton looked up, saw me, and smiled. “Good morning, beautiful. Since you were still sleeping, I ran down to Blue Ridge and got us some things so I could make breakfast.” He proceeded to fill a bowl with scrambled eggs from the fry pan, glanced at me again, and saw the look on my face. “Oh, don’t worry about the mess. I’ll have it all cleaned up in a jiffy. Go on out to the deck. I have the table all set for us.”

  He went to the coffeepot, filled a mug, and passed it to me after leaning over to place a kiss on my lips. “Here you go. I’ll be right out.”

  I walked to the deck and let out a deep sigh. The sun was shining and just a hint of burning leaves filled the air. I sat down and took a sip of dark, rich coffee as I focused on my surroundings. Quiet. Peaceful. I felt another sigh escape me and glanced to the mountains that rose up to meet the blue sky.

  “Hope you like scrambled eggs and bacon,” Saxton said, coming onto the deck with a tray. “I also got some homemade pumpkin muffins.” He started to sit down but jumped back up. “The juice. Got us some fresh apple juice.”

  When he finally sat down, I glanced across the table and felt a lump in my throat. All of a sudden, the disaster in the kitchen didn’t matter. He had gone to all this trouble for me. For me. I knew without a doubt that he was one of the sweetest men I’d met in a long time. Reaching across the table, I squeezed his hand.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you so much for this breakfast. It was a really nice thing to do.”

  “I just hope it’s good.” Saxton shot me a smile as he spooned eggs onto his plate.

  I helped myself to bacon, eggs, and a muffin, and then took a sip of juice.

  “This is really good.”

  “It’s from the apple orchard in town, Mercier’s. We’ll have to go there. Great place to shop and get cider and apples.”

  Despite the mess in the kitchen, the bacon and eggs were cooked to perfection.

  “I love these eggs,” I told him. “What’d you put in them?”

  Saxton laughed. “Ah, a good chef never gives away his recipes.”

  I joined his laughter.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  “I did. And I can’t believe I slept so late. You should have woken me earlier.”

  “Why? You’re on vacation. You get up early every morning at home, so I thought you could use a break.”

  “What time did you get up? You’ve already been downtown, shopped, and cooked breakfast.”

  “About six. I called Doyle to check on Lola. He said she’s doing just fine staying with him. He’d never admit it, but I think he likes having her around. I’ve left her at his house a few times when I’ve had to go on book tours.”

  After I had cleaned my plate and even taken a second helping of the delicious eggs, I finished my second cup of coffee, stood, and stretched.

  “That was really delicious, Saxton. Thanks again.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Well, let me get everything cleaned up while you shower and get ready, and then we’ll head to Murphy.”

  “Oh, I’ll help with the cleanup,” I said, feeling a bit guilty for being so tough on him.

  “No, no. I made the mess. I’ll clean it up. Now scoot,” he said, tapping my backside playfully.

  When I reentered the kitchen it was like fairies had appeared in my absence. True to his word, Saxton had the kitchen back in shape.

  He was hanging a dish towel on the rack and I walked behind him, slipping my arms around his waist.

  “Good job,” I said. “There might be hope for you yet.”

  He laughed and swung around to pull me into his arms.

  His kiss mingled with the taste of toothpaste, and his aftershave had an intoxicating woodsy scent. This man was definitely hot, and at the moment, Murphy, North Carolina, was the last thing on my mind.

  He broke away and cupped my face in his hands.

  “If we don’t stop . . . we may never leave this place for the entire day.”

  And that would be a bad thing?

  “Right,” I mumbled.

  I gathered my tote bag and took his outstretched hand.

  “Bringing along a picnic lunch?” he kidded me, pointing to my bag.

  I smiled. “Hey, I’m a woman who’s always prepared.” I peeked inside my large black leather bag. “Camera, makeup, guidebook, sunglasses, two bottles of water, and knitting. Yup, I’m all set.”

  “You’re a delight,” he said, laughing, and I followed him out to the car.

  Saxton had been right—Murphy was a cute little town that looked like a setting from a fifties television show.

  The main street had older brick buildings, which had been restored to their original state, lining both sides. Located in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains, it was the county seat of Cherokee County.

  As we strolled along holding hands, glancing in shop windows, I had to admit the town did remind me of a Norman Rockwell painting.

  “There’s a coffee shop across the street,” Saxton said. “Feel like a cup and we can sit outside?”

  “Sounds great.”

  When I entered the shop it was like stepping back to my childhood days in Salem. A hardwood floor, shelves stocked with jars of penny candy, a Formica soda fountain with stools, and a friendly proprietor with a huge smile.

  “Welcome to Murphy,” she said.

  “Thanks,” Saxton told her. “Can we get two coffees to go?”

  “Absolutely. Where’re you from?” she asked as she proceeded to prepare it.

  Watching her get the coffee brought a smile to my face and made me realize it wasn’t the fifties after all—she took two pods of coffee and inserted them into the Keurig coffee brewer.

  “Cedar Key, Florida,” I heard Saxton tell her.

  “Well, here you go,” she said, passing two cups across the counter as he paid her.

  We found a table outside where we sat soaking up the wonderful autumn sunshine.

  “You know,” I said. “This might not be such a good idea, this vacation getaway. I could get used to this very easy.”

  Saxton laughed. “Good. That was the point. I’m on deadline for March, so when we get back I’ll have to buckle down and get some writing done. But in the meantime, we’ll enjoy it. Do you want to have lunch or do an early dinner?”

  “I’m still full from breakfast, so an early dinner might be good.”

  “Great. We’ll go into Blairsville later. There’s a couple good Italian restaurants there.”

  By the time we got back to the cabin it was close to eight o’clock. I was loaded down with shopping bags with Christmas gifts I’d been able to find. The Essence of Rose in Blairsville had wonderful locally made candles that I knew Chloe and Suellen would love. And I found the perfect necklace for Grace at the shop next door. We had a delicious Italian dinner at Antoinetta’s, and by the time I plunked onto the sofa and kicked off my shoes, I was ready to relax.

  “Whew, this touristy stuff can be tiring,” I said.

  “How about a glass of wine? I have some Sangiovese.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” I said, stifling a yawn.

  Saxton uncorked the bottle, poured two glasses, and joined me on the sofa.

  “Here’s to a fun day.” He touched his glass with mine.

  I nodded and took a sip. “Delicious, and it was
a fun day. I really enjoyed it. Where to tomorrow?”

  He laughed. “You’re a glutton for punishment, huh?”

  “Well, I don’t want to miss anything.”

  “Tomorrow we can hit Blue Ridge. Have lunch in town, you can browse the shops, and then we can go to the apple orchard.”

  “Sounds like fun. What time does the tour bus leave?”

  Saxton leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Whenever you say. Sleep in and enjoy it while you can.”

  I had to admit that sounded mighty appealing.

  “One of these evenings we have to take advantage of that hot tub out there,” he said, waving a hand toward the deck. “You did bring a swimsuit, didn’t you?”

  “I did. Why don’t we have dinner in tomorrow evening and just relax in that hot tub?”

  “Good idea. We can get dinner to go at Taste of Naples, another great Italian restaurant.”

  Even though it was just after nine, I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. I took the last sip of wine and stood up.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m wiped.”

  Saxton took the glasses and put them on the kitchen counter. “I am too,” he said. “This mountain air is good for sleeping.”

  He walked with me down the hallway and paused outside my room. Leaning toward me, his lips brushed mine as he pulled me into an embrace.

  “Good night, Berkley. Sweet dreams. I’ll turn off the lights and check the doors.”

  I stifled another yawn and nodded. “Thanks again for a great day,” I said, before walking into my room and closing the door.

  25

  I was awakened the next morning by the ringing of my cell phone and answered to hear Jill’s voice.

  “You weren’t still sleeping, were you? Or otherwise engaged?”

  I rubbed my eyes and saw the clock read 8:05. “Get your mind out of the gutter,” I told her as I swung my legs to the side of the bed.

  Jill’s laughter came across the line. “Oh, Berkley, don’t be such a prude. You’re on a getaway with a handsome guy. What? You’re sleeping in separate beds?”

  “As a matter of fact, we are.”