by Noelle Adams
“I almost wish it could be nighttime,” she said, after she’d completed one side of the scene. “It would be cool to look up and see stars.”
“Well, why not?”
“There can’t be stars out at the same time as birds and squirrels.” She frowned down at her drawing. “Unless…” She closed her eyes and tried to picture how it would work, and then she started to shade in the skin gradually, making it darker as the mural moved from one side to the other. Then she was able to draw in stars and a faint glimpse of the moon.
When she was finished, she stared down, pleased with how it looked.
“I like it,” Silas said.
“Me too,” she admitted. “I can show this to them, and if they don’t like it, I can start over.”
“They better like it.”
She chuckled, reaching over to pat his arm before she realized what she was doing. She drew her hand back as soon as she became aware of touching him.
“That wasn’t a kiss,” Silas said dryly, “Only kissing is off-limits. I think touching me like that was allowed.”
Her cheeks warmed, but it was a pleasant kind of self-consciousness—not one that made her want to hide from him.
It felt so natural with him. Like nothing had ever happened between them. She didn’t want to leave him. She wanted to be even closer to him.
“It’s not a good idea,” she murmured, to herself as much as to him.
“Touching my arm isn’t a good idea? I get that I’m irresistible, but I think you should be safe if you just stick to my arm.”
She choked on a laugh and gave him a knowing look. “I think I better go.”
“It hasn’t been an hour yet.”
She glanced at her watch and was surprised when she saw the time. “Yes, it has.”
Silas was obviously surprised too. “You don’t have to go. I won’t talk about touching me again, if it’s too hard for you to deal with.”
“It’s not hard for me to deal with, but I should get over to Eden Manor to show them the sketch. I’ll come by tomorrow.”
He obviously wanted to argue, but talked himself out of it. “Okay,” he grunted at last.
She got up before she changed her mind and folded the paper and stuffed it in her purse. Then she went to the door, gulping when Silas followed her, putting his hand on the small of her back in a possessive gesture she’d always loved.
She forced herself to pull away from it and ended up tripping on the front step.
She stumbled. Silas caught her before she fell, but she still ended up twisting her ankle. It hurt with that sharp stab of pain she’d always hated—one that made her want to kick herself from doing something stupid and getting hurt.
“I’m fine,” she gasped, leaning on his arm as she tested out her ankle. It hurt when she put weight on it, but not so much as a serious injury would cause.
“You shouldn’t jerk away from me that way,” he murmured, slipping his arm around her to support her more fully. “It’s not good for your health.”
“Obviously.” She was winded and flustered, and she tried her foot again, this time managing to stand on it. “It’s okay. I just twisted it.”
“No need to risk it. You better let me carry you.”
She snorted at the lilt in his tone. “I’m not going to do anything of the kind. It’s not really injured.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
“Times are really bad when even you resort to cliché.”
“It’s the heat of the moment. My mind isn’t working as well as it should, since I’m so worried about you being hurt.” He wrapped his second arm around her, pulling her into a light hug.
She desperately wanted to hug him back. “I’m not hurt,” she insisted, trying not to laugh and not to kiss him at the same time. “I’ll be fine. I need to get going.”
“It’s not a good idea for you to ride the bike back on a twisted ankle.”
She’d forgotten she had the bike today. “Shit,” she muttered, wincing as she rolled her ankle to see how it was.
“I’ll drive you back.”
“What?”
“I’ll drive you back. I have a car.”
“I know, but you never leave the cabin.”
“I do. I go to the store every couple of weeks.”
“But that’s it. You’re supposed to be a hermit, aren’t you?”
“Maybe I can change.” His eyes were soft and knowing at the same time, and she loved the sight of them. “I can at least manage to drive you back home. Or do you need to go to Eden Manor?”
“I can wait for Eden Manor. Just take me home, and that would be great.” She felt more flustered than ever, although she wasn’t even sure why.
It just seemed like Silas breaking his self-imposed isolation enough to drive her home when she needed him was more of a gesture than anything else she’d seen from him this week.
Maybe he did want to change. Maybe he could.
Maybe she could too.
There were no guarantees, but for the first time in years, it felt like a real possibility to Cassandra.
Maybe it was a dream—like all the dreams she’d had when she was younger—but she didn’t want to let it go.
Friday
Cassandra’s ankle was more twisted than she’d expected. It was slightly swollen by the time Silas took her home, so she spent the afternoon off her feet, putting ice on her ankle periodically.
It was still a little sore the next morning, but she could walk on it fine. If she could borrow her mother’s car, she’d be able to get to Eden Manor and over to Silas’s cabin with no problems.
When she asked her mother about it, however, she discovered that her mother was planning to visit a friend in the hospital that morning. She could drop Cassandra off at Eden Manor and then go pick her up afterwards. The visit to Silas would have to wait until the afternoon.
Since she was feeling more friendly toward Silas than she had before, she sent him a text message, telling him her car situation and that she wouldn’t be over to his place until mid-afternoon. She didn’t want him to wait around for her and miss a morning of work.
He had the same mobile phone he’d had since they were married, but he’d never used it much. He rarely replied to text messages, even when they’d been together, so she was shocked when she got a text just a minute after she sent hers.
I can pick you up.
Got to go to Eden Manor first.
I can take you. need to look at stuff there anyway.
She blinked in surprise, since she’d understood he never went to look at the work he did on site. But she felt a little jump of pleasure in her heart at the idea of him coming to get her.
After a minute, another text from him came in. Be over in ten.
She texted a thank-you and hurried to finish getting ready, so he wouldn’t have to wait when he arrived. She was pulling her hair back in a ponytail when she heard the doorbell ring.
He’d actually come to the door. She’d expected him to wait in the car, so he wouldn’t have to make small talk with her mother.
But he was standing in the entry hall as she came down the stairs, looking big and rough with his full beard and intimidating bulk.
Her mother was saying, “Do you never think about getting rid of that beard?”
“Mom!”
Silas just gave a huff of laughter. “I’ve had it too long now. Wouldn’t know what to do without it.”
“That look is in style these days,” Cassandra said. “You wouldn’t believe how many guys I’d see in the city with the same look as you. I bet people think you do it to be trendy.”
Silas scowled. “I had the beard long before it was in style.”
Cassandra laughed and reached out to wrap her fingers around his forearm, feeling a shiver of pleasure at the hardness of his bicep as he tensed it. “I know you did. You’re just way ahead of fashion, I guess.”
“Maybe I should shave,” he muttered, still looking disturbed at th
e idea of being trendy.
“I bet you’d be very handsome clean-shaven. You were always so nice-looking in high school.”
“Mom, please. You make it sounds like he looks terrible now.” Cassandra was half-laughing as she offered this reproach, since Silas looked amused rather than offended.
“But that beard is a little much, don’t you think?” her mother whispered, as if she were saying something naughty.
Silas chuckled, and Cassandra laughed out loud, her eyes on Silas’s face. “I don’t mind the beard.”
He met her eyes, and for a moment she lost her breath.
Then she remembered she was going to be smart and not fall for Silas again. She cleared her throat. “I guess we should be going. Thanks for picking me up.”
“No problem.”
They said goodbye to her mother and walked out to his old pickup truck. It was the same truck he’d driven in high school, but he’d always kept the engine in perfect condition.
“How does it feel?” Cassandra asked, when they’d gotten into the cab and shut the doors.
“How does what feel?”
“Getting out with people again.”
He didn’t answer immediately, just looked at her with those deep eyes. Then he said, “It’s kind of strange—like I’m exposed.”
“Exposed to what?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Anything. I’m not used to it.”
“Then why did you come out then?”
“You needed a ride.”
“I could have managed.”
“I know. But I wanted to help you. It’s worth being exposed—if it means I get to be with you again.”
She swallowed over a lump in her throat and gave him a wobbly smile. This wasn’t good. She was feeling far too soft, far too emotional, far too drawn to him.
He was supposed to be gruff and obnoxious and closed off. He wasn’t supposed to be vulnerable like this.
She wasn’t sure how long she could resist.
“I guess we can go, then,” she said at last, when they just sat gazing at each other.
“Yeah. Good.” He put the truck into reverse and backed out of the driveway, and they were almost at Eden Manor when Cassandra felt in control of her emotions again.
***
Cassandra wasn’t sure what she expected to happen when they got to Eden Manor, but it certainly wasn’t what occurred.
As usual, the place was filled with workers—scattered around both the house and the grounds—so Cassandra and Silas just made their way into the house and toward the dining room.
She and Silas were talking over the mural—trying to picture how it would look and where everything would go—when Peter made an appearance.
He was just as cute as ever, and he seemed genuinely delighted by the sketch when she showed him what she was thinking about doing. But then Peter realized who Silas was, and he was so thrilled to meet him at last that it completely distracted him from conversation of the mural.
After a few minutes, Silas and Peter disappeared to go look at the locations of the stained glass windows and iron work Silas was doing for the house.
Cassandra just shook her head as she saw them disappear.
It was a little annoying that she’d been forgotten in favor of a technical conversation about stained glass and Silas’s forge. But she couldn’t help but be a bit thrilled that Silas had taken to Peter so easily.
Even as a teenager, Silas hadn’t had very many friends. He’d always been inward and rather distant with both guys and girls, except for Carl, whom he’d known all his life. He did love talking about his work, though, and Peter had evidently got the notes exactly right to have a conversation with him.
Peter was younger than Silas, but maybe the two could be friends.
Silas needed friends. He’d never be a social butterfly, but it wasn’t good for him to live in such isolation. It was like he was in a tailspin that he hadn’t yet pulled out of.
But maybe he’d now made a start.
Cassandra was touching up her drawing when a voice broke into her concentration. “Did you get abandoned?”
Cassandra looked up to see Kelly smiling at her from the doorway. “Yeah. I guess I did. They went to talk about iron and blow torches.”
Kelly laughed as she came over to sit next to Cassandra. “Peter is so excited. I can see it on his face. He’s been dying to meet Silas ever since Vanessa told us about him. We were told Silas never goes out.”
Vanessa had taken over her husband’s contracting business after he died. “He doesn’t much. He came to pick me up because I was without a car today.”
“Oh. I thought you two were divorced.”
“We…” Cassandra trailed off because she liked Kelly and didn’t want to lie straight out. “We’re…talking.”
“Oh. That’s good.” Kelly’s eyes were careful and curious both. “Isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I…I think it is.”
Cassandra froze as she suddenly pictured herself getting back together with him—moving back to the hometown she loved, living with Silas, both of them creating beautiful things. Even without children, even without the kind of artistic success she’d always wanted, it was a vision that made her chest ache. She wanted it—in a different way than she’d always wanted her old dreams.
The realization rattled her so much she couldn’t speak for a minute, and she didn’t quite follow what Kelly had said in response.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out, when she realized Kelly was waiting for a reply. “What did you say?”
“Can I see the drawing you’ve made?”
“Oh. Of course. Sorry about that.”
They spent a long time going over the drawing for the ceiling, and Kelly was just as happy with it as Peter had been.
It was an hour before Silas and Peter returned. Cassandra was taking notes for herself on the colors and amounts of paint she’d need, and Kelly was sweeping the floor.
Peter was smiling as the men entered the room. Silas wasn’t smiling, but Cassandra could see from his face that he’d had a good time talking to Peter.
“You won’t believe the work this guy can do,” Peter said to Kelly, going over to stand next to her and slipping an arm around her waist. “He said I could come over some time to see his forge.”
Cassandra arched her eyebrows, surprised by this news. But Silas’s face was as impervious as ever.
“Well, you’ve just made his week then,” Kelly said, giving Silas a genuine smile. Then she turned to her husband. “Rose called. She and the kids are coming up to visit this weekend.”
“What about James?”
“He’s out of town on business.” Kelly was smiling, as if she were very happy by this announcement. “Rose is one of my sisters. She hasn’t had the chance to come up here to visit yet, so she’s coming this weekend while her husband is out of town.”
“That’s great,” Cassandra said, smiling politely. “It’s too bad the place will be filled with workers all through her visit.”
“Oh, we’re used to it now. It’s going to be so strange when all the work is done and we’re not surrounded by construction and landscaping all the time.” Kelly paused and then added, “When do you think you can start on the ceiling.”
“Next week, if that works for you.”
“Perfect! I’m so excited it’s working out. It’s going to be beautiful. Do you think you can finish it before you have to go back to New York?”
“I’m not sure I’ll be going back,” Cassandra admitted. “I’m still working it out.”
Silas was standing right beside her, and she could sense his body jerk very slightly at this piece of information. He didn’t say anything and, although she could feel him watching her, his eyes were never on her when she turned to check.
***
When they left Eden Manor, Silas offered to drive her to the nearest art supply store to get what she’d need for the mural. The nearest store was forty-five minutes away, and Cas
sandra readily agreed to this offer. If she was going to start on Monday, then it would help to have all the supplies she needed before then.
So she and Silas drove to the store, had lunch out, and then drove back to Eden Manor to drop off the supplies, so they’d be ready first thing on Monday. It was late in the afternoon before they finally got to Silas’s cabin.
“You want to fish?” Silas asked.
“Don’t you need to get some work done? You’ve lost most of the day already.”
“The day is already gone. I’ll catch up tomorrow. I’d rather fish.”
“Okay,” she said with a smile. “Sounds good to me.”
So they got the rods and walked down the trail to the lake. The air was thick and humid, with a heaviness that made Cassandra think there might be a storm coming. But it didn’t get in the way of her enjoyment of sitting next to Silas on their old rock, casting their rods in a place that felt like they were completely alone in the world.
“Did you mean it?” Silas asked, after several minutes of silence.
“Mean what?”
“What you said back there, about not moving back to New York.”
“Oh.” She felt nervous all of a sudden. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“What changed your mind?”
Him. It was Silas who had changed her mind, among other things. But she could hardly admit that to him—not right now, not like this. “I don’t know. It’s just not going the way I hoped it would go, and it’s so expensive to live there.”
“I thought you were living with your friend.”
“I am, but I have to help with the living expenses and that means I have to work crazy hours to make enough money. Then I don’t have the energy to paint as much as I’d like to, and…and…” She sighed. “I just don’t like it.”
“So move back.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
“Good.”
She glanced over at him, but he was just staring stoically at the lake.
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, and then she said, without thinking through the wisdom of the words, “It’s funny, you know.”
“What’s funny?”