by ID Johnson
But she did have something to lose—didn’t she? Olivia was smart enough to know real life wasn’t like a romance novel, that very seldom did life really turn out with a happily ever after, that soul mates existed in fiction much more frequently than in reality. She’d come to the conclusion long ago that her expectations were just too high, that no one would ever sweep her off her feet the way that Elliott was attempting to woo Margot in her story. Even when people thought they’d found genuine true love, it always faded and flickered, didn’t it? Her parents were perfectly happy together, but were they still madly in love the way most couples were in the novels she read and wrote? Likely not. To think that she and Memphis might beat the odds and have some storybook romance was just too good to be true. It would be much safer to keep her feelings to herself and finish what she’d come here to do—write her novel and go home. Leave the romance for her characters or for people who didn’t mind being disappointed.
With a deep breath, Olivia refocused her eyes on that shadow of a cross on the wall across from her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever noticed it before, but it was there now, clear as day. She wondered what had become of the cross that used to hang there. It looked as if a replica of Jesus may have actually been hanging on the cross that was once there, judging by the outline where his hands would’ve been. Looking at the frame made her feel heavy-hearted. Who was she to doubt the Creator? Maybe He had led her here for something bigger than finishing her novel. Even if she wasn’t meant to give her heart to Memphis, maybe there was another reason God had brought them together.
Or maybe He hadn’t brought them together at all, and the fact that they were both on this snowy mountain meant absolutely nothing. Olivia let out the air she’d been holding in her lungs and, closing her eyes and lifting her head to the heavens, she slowly began to pray aloud. “God, I know you have a purpose for each of us. I’ve been so blessed to be able to do what I love and make a very good life for myself and my family. And if that’s all you have for me, then that’s enough. But if there’s more, if you really did lead me here for another purpose, then let my heart be open. Let my mind be free. Let me be willing to take chances I haven’t been willing to take in the past. Let me be more than the stories I tell, but let my story be one worth repeating. I’ve taken so much time away from my family and my loved ones to be here in order to fulfill a promise I made to the people I work with and to my fans. Please don’t let it be all for naught. Let me write the best book I know how, and while I’m out here in the heart of your creation, let me find myself again as well.” She finished by silently asking that His will be done, and then opened her eyes. Everything around her looked and smelled the same, but she felt something different inside, as if a small ember was beginning to burn. With one last look around, she walked back out the door, hoping she’d find the courage to accept whatever His answer happened to be.
On her way back to the cabin, she decided to jump the stream instead of using the bridge. It was a bright, sunny day, and the sounds of the birds and her time in the chapel had her feeling inspired. She looked up and down the thin trickle of water and made sure she was at a fairly narrow spot before she backed up a few steps and took a running leap. She easily landed on the other side, though the ice on the bank extended into the snow farther than she had imagined and her foot slipped just a bit. Righting herself, she let out a small giggle and then continued on her way, happy as the larks she imagined might be joining in the chorus in the trees nearby.
***
Memphis was waist high in cold water and loving every second of it. With his waders on, he couldn’t really feel the chill, though a splash now and again, particularly when he was pulling in a larger catch, got his attention really quickly. Clear mountain streams seemed very refreshing, but he knew exposure under certain circumstances could result in hypothermia in a matter of minutes, and he was very thankful that his insulated fishing gear kept him from worrying about the elements too much.
His brother was having a run today, bringing in almost a dozen fish in the few hours they’d been out on the water. Gramps was more energetic also and had caught quite a few before taking up his chair on the shore, and Dad seemed stuck in the rocks somewhere, not quite getting anything to work, although he’d caught a couple. Whenever someone else lured one in, he’d laugh and say something like, “Guess you’ll have to share that one with me since I can’t seem to get any of my own.”
Most of them had ended up getting thrown right back in. They had plenty for dinner for the next couple of nights already, and there was no use in keeping perfectly good fish if they wouldn’t be eaten. Even though the weatherman was calling for more heavy snow that evening, they decided not to keep more than they could possibly eat, and since they had plenty of other staples on hand that they could cook even if the power went out and the generator failed, these afternoon fish were the lucky ones.
As the snow began to pick up, Memphis glanced up at the house. He couldn’t see Olivia’s cabin through theirs, but he wondered if she had everything she needed if the roads were to get bad. He’d checked to make sure her generator seemed to be in working order the morning before, before he helped her with the branch, and he’d noticed she had lots of firewood. Still, in that car, she wasn’t going to make it up the mountain again if the roads got slick. He didn’t want to impose by showing up at her doorstep again, but at the same time, if she needed anything from town, now would be the time to get it.
“Something on your mind, Memphis?” Nash asked, looking at him out of the corner of his eye as he threw his line back in.
“Oh, no. I was just thinking about the weather,” Memphis replied, trying to focus on fishing.
“S’posed to get real bad tonight,” Gramps chimed in. “Wind and snow and ice and all that wintery stuff you probably ain’t seen in years.”
“I don’t really miss any of that either,” Memphis replied. “Looking at snow out the window is one thing; hearing ice hitting the roof all night is something else.”
“Well, we should be a-okay,” Lyle said, tugging on his line that was snagged again. “Generator seems to be in good shape, and we’ve got plenty of food.”
“Lot’s of firewood, too,” Nash added. He was quiet for a moment before he turned to face Memphis. “What about your friend?”
Memphis attempted to look confused for a moment. “Who?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, brother. I see that look on your face. I know you’re thinking about more than catching a whale of a trout.”
“Oh, you mean, uh… what’s her name? Olivia? Yeah, I was kind of wondering if maybe she might need to go into town before the weather hits.”
“If you’re going to town, you might wanna head that direction,” Gramps suggested. “When it hits, it’s likely to hit all at once.”
“Is it a nor’easter?” Memphis asked, not even sure exactly what that was.
“Nah, just your regular winter storm of the blizzard variety,” Lyle chuckled. “But Gramps has a point. We can clean up here if you want to head over and see how Miss Olivia fairs.”
“She probably doesn’t need anything,” Memphis reassured them. “If she’s grown up around here, she likely planned accordingly. She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who would go off into the mountains without proper supplies.”
“But you never know,” Nash said, with a grin. “It doesn’t hurt to go and ask.”
While Memphis was tempted to ask him what he thought was so funny, he knew by now it was better to leave well enough alone. “All right,” he said pulling his line in one last time. Even though he’d spent the better part of the evening before, and most of the morning, telling himself there was no sense getting involved with someone who lived so far away, he found himself walking back to the cabin so he could change clothes and head over to check on her. It was her safety that he had in mind, he told himself. That and nothing more. And yet, he couldn’t help but smile, thinking about seeing her again. He wondered if she’d be the wel
l put-together Olivia from yesterday afternoon or the woman he’d first met. Either way, he was looking forward to seeing her.
***
Olivia was digging through the kitchen cabinets like a mad woman. She’d come back in from her walk and gotten quite a bit accomplished. Her spirits were lifted, and she was inspired from her time at the old church. Now, however, she needed coffee—and despite her certainty that she’d packed more than the little tin she’d already emptied, she couldn’t find her reserves anywhere.
She’d already looked through all of her luggage and under every piece of furniture twice. She’d gone through every cabinet and looked in every single drawer. The cabin wasn’t that big, and the fact of the matter was, if she didn’t see it, it probably wasn’t there. She was tempted to call her sister just to see if maybe she’d left it at home, but she knew there was no sense in that since knowing where it was wouldn’t magically make it appear here.
With over a week left on her stay, and at least forty thousand more words to write, she’d absolutely need more coffee, but the thought of driving into town made her a little anxious. The weatherman was predicting more snow, and a quick peek out the kitchen window let her know it was coming down even harder now than it was an hour ago when she’d started this search. She might make it down the mountain with no problem, but getting back up might be another issue entirely.
Frustrated, she ran her hands through her hair and tried not to pull. “I can drink tea, can’t I? Or whatever this hot chocolate packet business Mr. Minter has in here might be?” Olivia had been spoiled by the bakery in town that served award winning hot cocoa; she couldn’t imagine drinking any substitute, and tea just wasn’t her, well, cup of tea. “Maybe Mr. Minter has some coffee he could spare….”
Before she even fully had the sentence out, a familiar knocking on her front door made her heart skip a beat. “Memphis!” she said, hoping it wasn’t too loud for him to hear. She did her best to make her hair look respectable again, happy that she looked more like her normal self than the monster from the morning prior, and headed for the door.
He was leaning against the door jamb so that when she opened the door, they were eye level, and she couldn’t help but smile. He was absolutely delicious. Shaking her head to clear it, she said, “Hello, there. How are you today?”
He wore a crooked grin that spread across his face as he stood up. “Howdy, Miss Olivia,” he said, his accent full. “I’m pretty good. How about yourself?”
Despite her current dilemma, she nodded. “Not too bad.”
“Good. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
She realized from their conversation yesterday that he certainly didn’t want to feel like a bother. She assured him he was not. “No, just taking a break from writing, actually.”
“Oh, that’s good to hear.”
“Would you like to come in?” Why was she always asking him in? Didn’t she realize more conversation would mean more attraction?
“Actually, I was just coming by to see if you needed anything from town. The weather’s supposed to be bad tonight into tomorrow, and I thought if you needed anything, now might be a good time to go get it.”
Olivia wasn’t sure what to think. Just when she realized she was out of her most precious commodity, he showed up at her door with an invitation into town? “Are you—are you going that direction?” she asked, not sure if he was warning her or asking her along.
“I can, if you need anything,” he nodded. “We’re pretty well stocked up, but I don’t think your car is going to have quite the traction my truck’ll have. So if you need somethin’, I’m happy to run you down the mountain.”
The call from the coffee maker beckoned her, and yet her mother’s constant reminding about being polite also sounded in her mind. She turned to look over her shoulder, realizing she’d left all of the cabinets in the kitchen open. She could see them from here.
“You looking for something?” he asked, clearly able to see the disaster as well.
She turned, and with a smug smile, said, “Coffee. Apparently, I didn’t pack as much as I thought I did.”
“I see,” he said, with a nod. “I’m guessing that’s pretty important to a writer.”
“You have no idea,” she replied, crossing her arms.
“Well, if you wanna get your coat on, I’ll go get the truck and bring it around.”
“Oh, no, Memphis, I can’t ask you to do that,” she said, reaching out and putting a hand on his arm. Little tingling sensations shot through her hand all the way up her arm to her shoulder, and she slowly pulled away, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. He seemed to notice, too, as he looked at her hand questioningly. She re-crossed her arms. “I’m sure you have more important things to do than driving into town just to help me buy coffee.”
He looked up at the porch ceiling for a moment, his lips pursed. “Can’t think of anything,” he replied, looking back at her and smiling. “Nope, not a thing.”
Olivia couldn’t help but giggle, and for a moment, she felt like a high schooler getting asked out by her crush. “Well, if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble.”
“Do you think I’d a come all the way over here in the snow to ask if you needed anything if it was too much trouble?” he reminded her. He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I’ll be back directly,” he said, and tipping his hat to her as if she were a lady in a western, he set off across the yard. She couldn’t help but watch him for a few moments, even though she was beginning to freeze with the door open and no coat on. A few steps into the yard, he turned and smiled at her, and she no longer felt cold at all.
Chapter Nine
By the time Olivia climbed up into Memphis’s truck, it was nice and warm in the cabin, and though she was used to the vantage point from her relatively small car, she sort of liked the view from up here. He had even gotten out and opened the door for her, which she thought was a nice touch.
“You always lived in the mountains?” he asked, as they headed off of Mr. Minter’s property.
“Well, Charles Town is near the mountains, though compared to these mountains, they’re more like large hills I guess. But, yes, I’ve always lived in Charles Town. My parents both grew up there, too.”
“Sounds like a nice place if people are willing to stay there.” The road was a bit bumpy and she held on to the dashboard with one hand to keep from bouncing around too much. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess I’m not used to having passengers.”
“No, it’s fine,” she said, smiling at him reassuringly. “You can’t help that the road has divots.” He glanced in her direction, and she felt her heart staccato a bit. “Charles Town is great,” she said, getting back to his original statement. “I mean, I could work from just about anywhere, but I chose to stay there because I love it so much.”
His eyebrows raised for just a moment, and Olivia wondered what she’d said to get that sort of reaction from him. “Do you live in a house or an apartment…?”
“Oh, I just bought my dream house,” she replied, thoughts of her home making her face light up. “I’ve always wanted to live there since I was a little girl.”
He turned his head momentarily to look at her and gave her a half smile, though there was something else in his expression she couldn’t quite read. “Congratulations.”
“Yeah, thanks,” she said. “My parents live… nearby, so that’s nice.” She decided against telling him about the guest house. There was really no sense in making a big deal out of her success.
“What kind of house is it?”
“Colonial Revival,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “White, with a nice back yard. My parents love to garden.”
“They come over to your house and garden?”
It was an innocent enough question. “Yes,” she said, slowly. “That is… well… we sort of share a yard.”
“Oh, did they move in with you?”
She didn’t want to lie to him. She’d already done that a few times and
still felt guilty about it. “No,” she said, exhaling. “They live in my back yard.”
They’d come to a stop sign between the little road that headed up the mountain and the major highway that headed back down. Memphis turned to look at her. “Say what, now?”
Olivia shrugged. “I have a little… guest space… behind my house.’
“You mean like a guest house?” he asked, his brown eyes wide.
There was a lump in her throat, and she struggled to force it down before she replied, “Sort of.”
“Olivia, if you have a guest house in back of your home, you can tell me. I’m not going to judge you. Sounds to me like you must be a better writer than you let on.”
She held his gaze for a long moment. The only men who’d shown any interest in her at all recently had been those who already knew who she was and were clearly after more than just her heart. She knew the moment she’d met him Memphis was different. Why was it so hard for her to admit her success? “All right,” she said, managing a smile. “Yes, I have a guest house. I have a wonderful, beautiful house, a nice car, and a bank account that lets me do basically whatever I want.”
He continued to smile at her, no fear of anyone coming up behind them on this road. “Good for you, Olivia. Why didn’t you want me to know?” he asked, shaking his head slightly from side to side.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I guess I’m used to people wanting to get to know me for my fame and not for who I really am. Also, there’s the fact that I haven’t written another book in almost a year, and people are beginning to wonder why not.”
Slowly, he made his turn onto the highway, careful not to spin out on the fresh snow. “And why haven’t you?’
The question was innocent enough. She’d been asked the same thing hundreds of times recently by everyone from her agent to her own mother. Her answer was usually something about not having time, but she knew that wasn’t entirely true. With Memphis, she felt like she could be honest. “I guess… I lost the words… for a while.”