by Devney Perry
I smiled back. “Definitely a pro. What else do you have for me?”
“You’ll have complete control over the TV remote when I’m at work. Weekends are reserved for football, but if there isn’t a game on, it can be ladies’ choice.”
“We’re going to have a problem with that, Goliath. Me and sports? Oil and water. Tequila and good decisions. Cell phones and toilet water.”
Beau leaned back and let out a roaring laugh, yanking me into his side for a tight hug. I started laughing too, staring up at his jaw now covered with his new beard. It felt so good to just let my laughter loose. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed so hard my sides ached and I had to force myself to stop so the stitches would go away.
When our combined noise was no longer echoing off the trees, Beau leaned down for another chaste kiss.
“You’ve got a talent for making me smile, Sabrina.”
My cheeks flushed. “Same to you, Beau.”
“Come on.” He bent and kissed my forehead. “Let’s get back.”
My outpost adventure was coming to an end. If anyone had asked me five and a half months ago if I’d be sad to leave, I would have called them crazy. Beau was right; staying here alone in the winter wasn’t safe, but I wasn’t quite ready to say good-bye yet.
“Beau?” I called after we’d hiked halfway back.
He paused on the trail and looked over his shoulder.
“Can I have one more week at the outpost?”
“Sure.” He smiled and turned to keep walking.
I smiled too, knowing that I was going to make the most of the time I had left.
My last week at the outpost had been spent writing.
I’d set aside the novel I’d been working on to start something new. This book wasn’t going to be a romance like the others I’d written, and though it was fictional, the story had a strong resemblance to my last five and a half months in Montana.
I’d taken my time with the beginning on this one, carefully crafting the novel’s cabin setting. If I never had the chance to come back to the outpost, I wanted a written memory. I didn’t want to risk forgetting what it smelled like or how the soft yellow lights created the perfect evening glow. I didn’t want to forget the seventies kitchen and my closet bathroom.
And now I never would.
Safely saved on my laptop, I had the words that would bring me back here whenever I needed the escape.
“Sabrina,” Beau called from outside.
“Be right there!” I zipped the backpack carrying my computer and my letters from Felicity and set it on the floor next to the duffel bag already packed with my clothes. Then I headed outside, glancing around the nearly empty room as I walked.
My cot, the TV and my food tubs were all loaded into Beau’s truck. I still needed to pack up the contents of the refrigerator into a cooler and my personal belongings needed to be hauled outside, but other than that, the outpost looked more like it had the night I’d arrived than the home it had been a day ago.
“What’s up?” I asked Beau.
“I’m going to shut off the water pump on the well. Do you need to use the bathroom one last time?”
“Yes!” I yelled, running back inside. I may have learned to love my outpost but there was no way in hell I was setting foot back in the biffy again. One experience in an outhouse had been one too many.
I finished my packing and cleaned out the fridge, then did a final sweep of the floor while Beau loaded the last items into the truck.
“Do you want to take one last walk with me?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I took his outstretched hand and followed his lead into the meadow. I’d added it to my new novel’s setting too, but not because I was worried I’d forget. Just like I’d never forget the first time Beau and I’d had sex or how he’d looked in the bathroom after shaving his beard, this meadow was permanently etched into my memory. No, I’d included it in my book because I wanted to share it with others.
If I ever got the chance to share my books.
“Are you doing okay?” he asked as we strolled.
“I’m sad.”
The three-letter word didn’t really describe how I was feeling but it was the best I could come up with. This little building was where I’d found myself again. Where I’d found a new path. Where I’d found love. Saying good-bye to the place that had nurtured it all wasn’t just sad.
“It doesn’t have to be forever. Anytime you want to come back, I’ll bring you.”
I hoped I’d get the chance.
“Thank you, Beau.” I squeezed his hand. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that. Thank you for everything. For bringing me up here. For keeping me safe. I’ll always be grateful for the time I had here.”
“You’re welcome, Sabrina.” He squeezed my hand right back.
We let Boone run and play in the open field as we wandered slowly through the wilting grasses. As the sun started to descend, we made our way back to the outpost to say one last good-bye.
Standing in the middle of the open room, my eyes wandered over the bare walls and the empty floors. They lingered on the place where Beau and I had set up our bed, the same place where he’d made love to me last night. When my gaze hit the log chair, I smiled, thinking about all of the hours I’d spent writing in that seat.
As much as I wanted to take that chair with me, it needed to stay.
“Ready to go?” Beau asked, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
I leaned back into him, resting against his heart and gripping his forearms under my chin. “Not really, but we’d better go anyway.”
Beau kissed the top of my hair before letting me go. Then, hand in hand, we walked outside, locking up the door before climbing in his truck.
As he pulled away, I lost control of my tears and they dripped down my cheeks. Boone snuggled into my side as I sniffled, resting his cute face on my lap to give me the only comfort he knew how. Beau reached out and laced his fingers with mine, holding them tight but staying quiet so I could have my moment to grieve the loss of my home.
Just as abruptly as it had started, it was over.
I watched my outpost disappear into the trees through blurry eyes and a side-view mirror. I left a part of my heart at the outpost today.
And if it hurt this much to say good-bye to a building, I’d never be able to say good-bye to Beau. If I weren’t in danger—if life could go back to normal—I’d uproot everything and fit my life to his just to avoid the pain of leaving his side.
All he had to do was ask me to stay.
It took almost the entire three-hour drive back to Prescott for my mood to improve, but my spirits finally lifted once I focused on all the positives of this new chapter in my Montana escape.
I would get to see Beau every single day. We’d sleep together every single night. We’d wake up together every single morning. So what if I was confined to the walls of his home like a recluse? At least he’d be inside with me.
The sun was slowly setting by the time we pulled off the gravel road and onto the highway that led to Prescott. A few miles later, we crossed the bridge into town and slowed as we passed through downtown. The sky was a beautiful peach color and cast a soft glow on the town.
“Everything is so well-kept.” The last time I’d driven through Prescott had been during the middle of the night and I hadn’t been able to see inside the tiny shop windows or into the restaurants that filled the short road. “There’s more here than I would have thought for a small town. Why is that?”
“Bozeman is the closest city and it’s over an hour away, so Prescott has to serve as the hub for the whole county. We’ve got more commerce than you might find in other small towns, and in general, people here like to shop local when they can and support one another.”
“That makes sense.”
“We get a lot of business from tourists driving through to Yellowstone National Park too. Most owners have found that if they keep things up and give it a certain West
ern feel, the tourists are more willing to stop and spend money.”
They had that right. I could already see myself buying things I didn’t really need. That was, if I was ever allowed to leave the house and roam free.
I soaked it all in until Beau turned and maneuvered down some side streets. I’d been to his house before, the night I’d arrived in Montana, but it had been so dark that I hadn’t been able to see the neighborhood well. Now that it was light and my mind wasn’t distracted, I could really take it all in.
The houses closest to Main Street were older and small. Short yards crowded the homes together on each block. The further we drove, the more the yards started to widen, and though the houses weren’t brand new, they were nicer and larger.
Soon Boone perked up and started whining in excitement as Beau turned down a street full of nice bungalows. Most looked to have been remodeled from their original form, with freshened exteriors, additions and garages built onto their spacious lots. The neighborhood itself had to be at least fifty years old given the height and width of the beautiful trees that lined the streets and shaded the yards.
Beau turned into a long, narrow driveway next to a beautiful shale-gray home with pale-cream trim, gleaming bay windows and an adorable covered porch filled with tan wicker furniture.
“This is your house? I remembered it differently.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. What did you remember?”
“Not this. For some reason, I had it in my head that your house screamed ‘bachelor.’ ” Instead, his home said “take off your shoes before you come inside.”
The exterior landscaping was immaculate, highlighting the brown brick sidewalk that trailed up from the street to four matching steps leading to the sunken front door. The porch itself was deep and wide, running along half of the front but also along the side of the house toward Beau’s attached garage, which was set off the back of the house.
Boone dove out of the truck door the second I had it open only to disappear through a doggy door out the back of the garage. I grabbed a bag from the back seat, then followed Beau up three cement steps and through the interior door to his house.
“Let’s do the tour and then we can unload.” He lifted my bag off my shoulder and set it on his white washing machine while I inspected the laundry room and pantry where we’d come in.
The floor tiles were a rich terra cotta and the walls a blue so deep it was nearly black. The white farmhouse sink in the corner and the hickory cabinets offset the dark walls flawlessly.
“I only take credit for the carpentry,” Beau said as I followed him into an enormous kitchen. “Maisy is obsessed with home-decorating shows so she gets credit for the decorating and paint.”
“Now I really can’t wait to see her motel.” If her rooms were anything like Beau’s house, her motel would rival some of the most stylish in Seattle.
The kitchen and living room were all part of a huge open main floor, only separated by a massive butcher-block island and iron-backed stools. The espresso leather couches and the pale stone fireplace in the living area were the perfect accents to the light hardwood floors.
The best part was that the television wasn’t too big or stacked on top of the mantel. Instead, it was tucked away in a beautiful set of built-in cabinets opposite the picture window that looked into the front yard.
Beau went through the rest of the tour quickly, showing me his office, the guest bedroom and a bathroom on the main floor. Next, he took me to the cool basement that had clearly not been part of Maisy’s scope of work.
“Here’s the bachelor I was looking for.”
He chuckled and turned on the florescent lights. At one end of the long, wide man cave was a home gym. At the other end was a massive sectional aimed at an entertainment unit the size of which I’d never seen before. In it was the enormous TV that I’d expected upstairs.
I shivered as the cold from the cement floors bled through my socks. I peeked inside a storage room full of an extra refrigerator and a chest freezer before following Beau back to the main floor.
“Upstairs is my bedroom and another spare,” Beau said, going back to the garage to unload.
“Wow. I wouldn’t have guessed this place was so big from the outside.”
“This block was the ritzy part of Prescott back in the day. Now all the new construction is done along the river or up in the mountains but I wanted one of these older places. I like that they have character and history. So I bought it and have been slowly making updates.”
“Have you done much work?” I asked, carrying a plastic tub into the laundry room.
“Quite a bit. I tore out a wall upstairs to expand the master bedroom and bathroom. That was my biggest project. Everything else has been mostly cosmetic. New floors. New paint and trim. Better finishes. The people that owned it before me did the hard part by putting on the extension where the kitchen is now.”
“Well, it is not going to be hard for me to stay here, I can tell you that.”
He chuckled, setting down the cooler and taking the tub from my hands. “Good. Why don’t you raid the fridge for dinner and I’ll finish unloading?”
I nodded, standing on my tiptoes so he could give me a soft kiss before going back to the garage. Boone appeared and settled into his doggy bed by the back-patio doors while I made us a late dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.
I had gotten so used to cooking with only an electric stovetop at the outpost that I felt spoiled with Beau’s top-of-the-line gas range and dual convection oven. If all I had to do was hang out inside every day, I was going to get creative with our menu.
No more trail mix, jerky and granola bars for me. I’d had enough of those to last a lifetime.
Beau and I ate at the island, then I tossed in a load of laundry while he loaded the dishwasher. Another positive: no more hand-washing my clothes. I was back in the land of modern-day appliances.
“Do you want to take a shower before bed?” he asked.
“I’d love one.” I was sticky and still smelled like wood fire. I hadn’t minded at the outpost, but here, I was feeling grimy and I wanted clean hair.
I followed Beau up the stairs that ran along the far side of the house. At the top of the landing, a picture collage lined the hallway to the bedrooms. Maisy must have made this too because they were in gray-matted black frames. The photos themselves were all black and whites except one in the center.
“Are these your parents?” I asked, pointing to the color picture.
“Yeah. That was taken my senior year in high school. Dad’s beer belly is twice as big now but Mom looks exactly the same.”
The photo was your typical family picture. The Holts were at a park, surrounded by green grass and tall trees. Beau stood nearly as tall as his dad while Michael was still a boy at his mother’s side. Maisy stood proudly in the middle with her little hands linked with her parents.
“What are their names?”
“Marissa and Brock.”
“All Ms and Bs,” I said, still inspecting the photo.
Beau was nearly a carbon copy of his dad. They had the same large build and square face. Michael resembled Brock too, except as a child, his features hadn’t been quite as angular. Maisy, on the other hand, looked nothing like her father because she was the exact replica of Marissa with the same doe eyes and white-blond hair.
“And this is Coby?” Next to the color picture was a black and white of Beau with a little boy resting on his shoulders.
“Yeah. He likes to ride up there so we can pretend he’s a giant.”
I smiled at the softness in Beau’s face as he looked at his nephew’s picture. Beau would make a wonderful father, of that I had no doubt. “How old is Coby?”
“He just turned two.”
We turned away from the pictures and passed by the spare room before entering Beau’s master suite. The walls had been painted a dark gray offset by the house’s white trim and doors. In the center of the room was Beau’s gigantic b
ed with a simple dove-gray quilt and white pillows. The light wood furniture was simple but rustic enough that the room didn’t feel too feminine.
“That’s a beautiful pic—” I gasped and clapped a hand over my mouth.
Above Beau’s bed was a large black-and-white panoramic canvas of the meadow by the outpost.
Somehow, Beau had gotten that canvas made for me this last week. There had been a dead tree in the tree line where he’d taken the photo. He’d cut down that tree right after we’d taken our hike and he’d told me it was time to leave the outpost. The canvas didn’t have that tree.
“Beau, I . . . thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His hands came to my shoulders and he bent to kiss my hair. Then he steered me into the bathroom. “Make yourself at home.”
Between the dual sinks, he’d already set out my bag of toiletries and my duffel. One of the vanity drawers had been cleaned out and left open.
By the time I dried off from my long and steamy shower, I was dead on my feet. I slipped on some pajamas and tied up my wet hair, emerging from the bathroom to find that Beau had showered too and was already in bed.
“I need to switch the laundry. Be right back.”
“It’s done, angel. Come to bed.”
My feet changed course and I wasted no time scooting into bed next to Beau.
I moaned as I sank into the soft, thick mattress. Beau’s sheets were cool and smooth against my bare legs. His quilt and the down comforter underneath were just the right weight to guarantee I’d sleep like the dead.
“I missed beds. I might spend all day in here tomorrow.”
He chuckled and reached out, sliding me into his side. “I could get on board with that. I haven’t lazed a Sunday away in ages.”
“Then it’s a plan.” I yawned. “Good night, Goliath.”
“Night, Shortcake.”
His arms pulled me closer, and even though I was in an unfamiliar place, I was home.
“Holy fuck,” Beau panted.
The room was spinning, there was a lock of hair in my mouth and my heart was pounding like I’d just run a mile being chased by a bear.