The Butterfly Recluse

by Therese Heckenkamp

  His eyebrows quirked. “That’s for me to know and for you to wonder.” He stepped off the porch. “I’ll see if you’re really with me for me, or just for my stunning good looks.” He paused. “So don’t be surprised if I shave my head bald next.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Do what you want. You won’t get rid of me that easily.” We stopped in front of his motorcycle and I eyed the two waiting helmets. “Asking me to ride this thing, though . . . That might do it.”

  “Come on, Lila, you promised you wouldn’t chicken out.” Harvey patted the seat. “You’re gonna love it, you’ll see.”

  “Hold on.” I raised a finger and ran back to grab a flat rectangular present from inside my foyer. I held it out to him. “For Sarah. Can you put this in the saddlebag? But if it’s too big, I guess we could always take my car.”

  “Nice try, but I’ll make it fit.”

  Figured.

  My gift sure didn’t compare to his, this motorcycle, but I imagined Sarah would still appreciate it.

  “Ready? Shoes on?”

  I wrinkled my nose, then stuck out my foot, displaying the chunky boots he’d insisted I buy.

  “Perfect.” He held up a white helmet with a gaudy, sparkly butterfly sticker centered on the front. “This thing’s calling your name.”

  My lips twitched. “Classy touch, Harvey. Not cheesy at all.” Intrigued despite myself, I peered closer. “It’s not scratch-and-sniff by any chance, is it?” I loved those. Unable to resist, I scratched the wings, and a few sparkles gathered beneath my fingernail. After I gave the sticker a quick sniff, my lips dipped downward.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but now I guess I know what to get you for your birthday.”

  I envisioned sheets of colorful stickers, and the thought amused me.

  With a bracing breath, I accepted the helmet and pulled it on. Harvey buckled it, then followed with his own helmet.

  “Let’s do this.” He helped me on, and I felt as if I were settling onto the saddle of a metal beast. I assessed my situation and rubbed my sweaty palms. “I can’t believe there aren’t any seat belts on this thing.”

  “Just hold on to me really tight.”

  “And no roof,” I muttered.

  “That’s called a car, Lila.” He patted my knee and I almost fell off. Knowing he couldn’t see my face clearly, I blushed freely.

  “Hug the seat with your legs. I’ll lean to turn, so just stay with me. And if you need me to stop for any reason, just tap me twice. Oh, and one more thing—it’s gonna be loud.”

  No kidding.

  He started the motor, and I couldn’t believe I used to think his motorcycle was noisy from a distance—this thunderous volume put that sound to shame. The roaring vibrations coursed through me, doing their best to shake my ribs and arms loose. I tightened my grip. Nothing was going to make me let go of Harvey.

  With a jolt, we took off on my first-ever motorcycle ride.

  I’d almost been forced into my first ride two weeks ago when Harvey found me after I’d escaped from Jess. But the police had shown up in time, thanks to a certain lady in a car who’d understood my 911 plea.

  The police had given us a ride to the hospital before questioning us in detail about everything that had happened.

  Jess had tried his best to escape, but the cops caught him after a high-speed chase. With the multiple charges stacked against him, he wouldn’t be getting out of jail anytime soon. Kind of ironic that he was going to end up being “institutionalized” after all.

  I’d mourned for the loss of the friend I thought I’d had, but when I needed someone to talk to, I called Harvey or Sarah.

  I imagined Jess would fill his plentiful hours attempting to write to pen pals. I shuddered, glad I wouldn’t be one of them.

  Now I gripped Harvey tighter, my fingers pressing into leather and solid muscle. The big world rushed by, and yet my entire world was right here, me and Harvey together. God was with us as well, His hand evident everywhere. We couldn’t escape or ignore Him, and I no longer wanted to.

  My pounding heart regulated itself as the miles flew by. I can do this.

  I am.

  Sarah, who’d recently returned from her Caribbean honeymoon, shot out of her house the second we roared into the driveway.

  “You got her on that thing? I can’t believe it!” Sarah jumped up and down, hugged Harvey, whose hair didn’t faze her, then moved on to me, her smile a pristine white in her tan face.

  “Roger’s got the grill going in the back. I’m so glad you could both come. I’ve got a five-pound photo album of honeymoon pictures I can’t wait to show you.”

  “In that case”—Harvey grabbed his helmet—“we actually can’t stay— Ouch!”

  Sarah, of course, had whapped his arm. The sibling banter pricked my heart, reminding me of what I could have had with my brother and sister, but it also reminded me of what we did have. Those memories were mine to cherish forever.

  “No way! For real?” Sarah’s ecstatic reaction made me realize Harvey had just told her the bike was hers, and I felt fortunate to be a part of this happy moment in the here and now.

  “It’s no crystal vase, but—”

  “Shut up! I thought you’d sold it!”

  “That’s what I wanted you to think.”

  “You tricked me.” Sarah wagged her finger at him but didn’t sound the least bit angry. “This is the coolest wedding present ever. If this is what you give, I may have to get married again. Build a whole collection.”

  She swiped a helmet and cruised out of the driveway. She raced up and down the street before returning and screeching to a stop.

  When she climbed off, it was grudgingly. “I think we need to cancel this little dinner party so I can ride this thing all night. Wait’ll Roger hears. We’re gonna be fighting over this.”

  “Fighting?” Harvey shook his head. “So maybe not the best wedding gift after all?”

  Sarah laughed. “We love making up—”

  “Stop!” Harvey thrust his hands out and grimaced. “Quick, Lila, give her your gift.”

  I smirked, having a feeling he might regret his request, but handed my present over anyway.

  “You two, you didn’t have to get me anything. We just wanted to hang out with you . . .” Sarah pulled off the last piece of wrapping, studied the framed picture, then threw her head back and laughed.

  Harvey peered over her shoulder and frowned down at the picture. Realization dawned as he saw the photo of himself chasing butterflies in my backyard.

  He gaped at me. “What? You took a picture of that?”

  “You know that’s all I wanted to do that day—take pictures of butterflies. I guess you just happened to photobomb that one.”

  He groaned.

  “I call it ‘Chasing Your Dreams.’ ” After all, that was the day he’d started me realizing I didn’t have to stay hidden away from the world.

  “Oh, this is priceless.” Sarah clutched her side. “This is going up in the entryway, where everyone will see it.”

  “Awesome.” Harvey narrowed his eyes at me.

  I smiled and shrugged. “Someone once told me it’s healthy to laugh at yourself.”

  He shook his head. “That kind of healthy makes me sick.”

  “Not too sick for some big steaks, I hope,” Sarah said.

  “Nope,” I replied. I’ll eat anything but kale bars.

  “Come on, before Roger inhales them all.” She led us into the backyard, where we greeted her husband and enjoyed the meal together, with lots of laughter. I felt part of a family again for the first time in years.

  The food was great, but the company was better. I’d lost Jess, warped as that friendship had been, but I’d learned how to make new friends. Real ones.

  After the meal, Sarah led me over to a small garden. “I’d really like to expand this and make it into more of a butterfly garden back here. Maybe you could help me.”

  “I’d love to. And if you want any milkweed plan
ts, I’ve got plenty. You’ll definitely attract monarchs if you add some of those.”

  Harvey looked up from his sports-related conversation with Roger. “Watch it, Sally. She’ll turn your whole backyard into a weed patch. You’ll get lost in it, and Roger won’t find you for days.” Harvey paused, then nudged Roger. “So on second thought, you might want to go for it.”

  “Funny, Harvey.” Sarah tapped her chin. “You speaking from experience? Do you get lost in gardens a lot? Or just at Lila’s house?”

  She pointed at her husband. “Roger’s completely on board with my garden idea.”

  He gave a thumbs up. “Less yard to mow. Sounds good.”

  The guys resumed their conversation, and Sarah beamed at me with a knowing look.

  “What?” I rubbed my lips self-consciously. “Is my mouth dirty?” Did I have steak sauce on my lips or something?

  “No, I’m just so happy you guys finally found each other. And, just so you know”—she flipped her hair over her shoulder—“right before I messed things up between us—which I’m still totally sorry about, by the way—I was trying to convince Harvey to meet you.” She dropped her voice. “But he wasn’t interested. He thought you sounded like a dork.”

  I crossed my arms. “Yeah?”

  “Don’t tell him I said that.” She glanced at him, then back to me. “Actually, I totally don’t care.” She smiled and added, “I kinda hope you do.” She hugged me with one of her signature lung-crushing squeezes.

  Like sister like brother.

  “In fact”—she nudged me—“I’m gonna make a prediction. You two are totally gonna get married.”

  “Hey, Sarah,” Roger called, saving me the awkwardness of having to come up with a reply. “Wanna show me that motorcycle now?”

  “Finally!” She moved away but aimed her finger at me. “Remember, I totally called it!”

  I shook my head as I watched her pull Roger around the side of the house and disappear from view.

  “Called what?” Harvey joined me by the little garden and stood close enough to touch.

  Cautious excitement zinged through me, anticipating that touch. “You tell me. She’s your sister.”

  “Which means I couldn’t tell you. She’s wacky.”

  I sniffed a laugh. Aren’t we all?

  Sure made life fun.

  “So you haven’t said how you liked the motorcycle ride. Did you love it?”

  “I did, actually.” Just the thought sent my pulse racing. “It was like flying.”

  “So you’d do it again?”

  “With you? Yes.” I put my hands on my hips. “Even though you told Sarah you thought I was a dork.”

  “What? She told you that?” He glared in the direction she’d gone. “I’m taking that motorcycle back.”

  He regarded me seriously. “But hey, you know that can’t count. That was before I met you and”—he smirked—“discovered just how much more of a dork you really are.” He dodged a step away from me, as if expecting me to whack him. Sarah had conditioned him well.

  “Oh yeah?” I eyed something near the house and edged toward it.

  He nodded. “An adorable dork who elevates the word to the best kind of compliment.”

  “Great.” With a stealthy hand, I secretly turned a small handle behind me. “If that’s how it works, I want you to take this as a compliment, too.” I grabbed the garden hose and aimed it at Harvey’s hair.

  Harvey sputtered as water hit him and blue dye ran down his face.

  I laughed so hard, my full stomach began to ache.

  He lifted his arms, now also streaked in blue. “I surrender!”

  With a nod, I shut off the hose, then saw a flash of orange as two monarchs flew by. “Look!” I pointed. “Want to chase them? I could take another picture of you.”

  He let out something like a growl. “You’d better run, because the only thing I’m chasing is you.”

  I yelped, dropped the hose, and took off across the yard, dodging trees and bushes.

  Risking a glance back, I turned and didn’t see Harvey anywhere.

  “Gotcha!”

  I squealed as he pulled me into his strong arms and held me against his wet blue-streaked shirt.

  I sighed contentedly, then breathed in the scent of garden hose, sun, and Harvey’s skin. I snuggled against him, and my eyelashes fluttered against his bare bicep.

  He looked down at his arm, then at me. “You know those are called butterfly kisses, right?” Hastily, he added, “I only know that from Sally.”

  Warmth spread up my neck and through my cheeks.

  His voice lowered and turned husky. “I know you’re all about butterflies, but when it comes to kisses”—he leaned down so that our faces almost touched—“I prefer the real thing.”

  His gaze held mine, searching, hoping.

  “So do I.” At least, I think I do . . .

  I closed my eyes and leaned in till our lips fit together—warm, soft, and right.

  Yes, I definitely do.

  A Note from the Author

  Thank you for spending time on my story, and I truly hope you enjoyed reading this novel as much as I did writing it. Maybe you’ll even consider leaving a short review on Amazon?

  Honestly, releasing a book can feel like dropping a labor of love into a black hole, so receiving a review—even just a sentence or two—can really make a writer’s day!

  And when you’re looking for your next read, I hope you’ll consider checking out my other books:

  Past Suspicion

  After losing her mother, Robin encounters mystery, tragedy, and romance in a small town full of big secrets.

  Frozen Footprints

  A missing twin. A desperate search. An isolated winter cabin. Where is Charlene’s hero when she needs one most?

  After the Thaw

  Charlene’s wounded heart must choose between her fiancé and the man whose past is more scarred than her own. But in choosing, she may just lose everything.

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank my oldest daughter for sparking the inspiration for this story by asking me questions about butterflies one day last summer. The best ideas come in the most unexpected ways!

  Thank you to my husband for supporting my desperate (yes, desperate) need to schedule some writing time into each busy week. If not for that, this novel would likely have been another year in the making.

  As always, this story wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable if not for the feedback from my number-one quality-control readers, who just happen to be my sisters—who never let that stop them from being completely honest. (In the kindest way, of course. They provide dinner and cheesecake and candy while doing so!) Thanks, Monica and Cassandra, for never failing to point out the problems (both big and small) in my writing. I love that I can always count on you.

  Sincere thanks to both my wonderful mom and my awesome brother-in-law Chris for making time to read this book when I needed new eyes on it.

  Finally, thank You, dear Lord, for planting stories in my mind . . . I couldn’t imagine life without writing. Thank You for this adventurous journey, and I look forward to the next chapter!

  About the Author

  Therese Heckenkamp was born in Australia but grew up in the United States as a homeschooled student. The Butterfly Recluse is her fourth novel and, in many ways, the story she was meant to write ever since she was five years old, considering that’s when she wrote My Pet Butterfly, her very first “book.”

  Therese lives in Wisconsin with her husband, four energetic children, and, on occasion, a butterfly or two. As a busy stay-at-home mom and freelance proofreader, she fits in writing time whenever she can manage (and sometimes when she can’t). She dreams up new stories mostly at night when the house is finally quiet.

  Her previous novels have reached #1 bestseller in various Amazon Kindle categories, including Religious Romance, Religious Mysteries, and Inspirational Religious Fiction.

  Therese looks forward
to writing many more novels in the future. Visit her online to share feedback and to keep up-to-date on free ebooks, new releases, and more:

  Therese’s website:

  www.thereseheckenkamp.com

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  www.goodreads.com/ThereseH

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