Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Malachi shrugged awkwardly.
“His father made it,” she admitted. “For Mimi.”
Her grandparents’ marriage bed. The one thing her grandmother wouldn’t sell when they’d first had to put her home on the market as she transitioned into the senior living facility. Mimi practically forced Gracen to take it—the size had been her one complaint—but she was grateful now.
It fit perfectly.
Malachi looked at the bed with new eyes. “Shit, that old, huh?”
“Doesn’t look like it, right?” She winked as she crossed the room to place the napping kitty on the end of the bare mattress. Maybe it was the full belly and warm skim milk, but he didn’t stir when she put him down that time. “Don’t worry, though, the mattress and whatnot is ... all new.”
His guffaw did jostle the kitten a bit.
Only enough to make an ear twitch.
“It’s in great condition.” Malachi gestured at the space in general, adding, “But all of it’s amazing. They were talented guys—people you try to learn from if you can.”
His words struck her in the heart in a way he couldn’t possibly know. Not because he praised the skills of her family—he’d done that very thing from the moment he walked into the house—but it was a sad reminder that those people she loved would never get to meet him, either.
That was hard in a different way.
A new kind of grief she didn’t expect despite grief-counseling as an angry teenager where the kind woman with a soft voice had explained it would get better, but her pain would also change over time. Why had it taken her this long to realize what that woman meant?
Because she was happy?
Why did it have to hurt when she was happy, too?
“You know,” Gracen said, hoping the thickness of her emotions had cleared from her voice, “we should check the barn because the previous owner said they never really did much with it but storage. My dad did everything out there.”
Malachi’s whole face brightened. “There might be old stain cans out there.”
“Could be.”
“I’ll put that on the list,” he assured.
He was already making a list.
For her.
Everything he did wound her tighter into his grip, and he probably didn’t even realize it. She was starting to hope that might be what the universe was trying to tell her. He was the one thing, for her, that should be seamless. A flawless fit.
Malachi had whistled and swore over the crown molding in the lower rooms and every hardwood floor. The woodwork on the walls were made of interlocking, diagonal planks her father had hand planed, sanded, and stained all himself. All under the direction of Gracen’s mother who had loved the country and primitive look before that really became a modern thing.
All the wood made the place a little dark if not for the tall, big windows rounding the four corners of the home and several light fixtures in the same rustic style. The bottom floor looked out to the wrap-around porch and the quiet scenery beyond.
Her dad never did get the chance to continue his work upstairs, though the walls and floors were finished, because the accident happened first.
Something else Malachi had noticed and mentioned to her. The woodworking only downstairs, not the accident.
“Let me chat with somebody about the molding, but I think I could definitely continue the theme if you can find the right stain,” he’d told her.
She wanted to say yes.
Right then.
Gracen didn’t but only because the two of them had not had a conversation yet about what exactly the two of them were doing together now. The one conversation they did have on the back deck of a big lodge couldn’t exactly be taken as the gospel. It couldn’t be the same as it used to be. Nothing about them was the same as that first night they met, and for whatever reason, they continued falling into step together to reach where they were now despite the obstacles that kept popping up in the way.
Was he standing here for the same reason she was?
Had he fallen for her, too?
“Why’d you get so quiet?” Malachi asked.
Gracen tried to brush it off as she played with the squish beans on the bottom of the kitten’s front paws while he slept. “I didn’t.”
“Yeah, you did.”
No arguments.
Just facts.
Gracen turned away from the bed to see Malachi fall into the round cuddle couch in the corner of the room. He peeled off his staple black T-shirt and balled it in his fist to use as a rag to wipe the sweat from his face and neck.
“Did I say something?” he asked.
He had, but she didn’t want him to think he had done something wrong at the same time when that just wasn’t the case.
“Did I notice duffle bags in the back of the truck when we brought the kitten’s things in?” she asked him instead.