Authentically izzy, p.26
Authentically, Izzy, page 26
“Hey,” her voice rasped as she hesitantly stepped toward him, clutching a small takeaway box to her chest.
“Hello.” He pushed his hands into his pockets, waiting for her cue on what to do next.
She offered him the box with the insignia of Antoinette’s on top. “I brought you an apple danish.”
His smile spread as he took the offering. “I love apple danish.”
“I know,” she whispered.
Silence breached the gap between them and filled with the same connection he’d come to recognize as uniquely theirs. Her round, red-rimmed eyes hinted at the struggle she’d experienced while away, but the trace of a smile encouraged him that she’d made it through the struggle on the right side. She rubbed the back of her neck and looked away, a tiny wrinkle puckering her brow.
“I have an idea.” He cleared his throat. “Alice, one of the other store clerks, should arrive in half an hour.” He shifted a step closer to her. “What do you say we go for a drive? I have a particular house to show you.”
She stared at him for a moment, her dark eyes brimming with tears before her smile broke free. “I’d like that a lot.”
* * *
The landscape spread before her in lush greens with dashes of white and lavender blossoms bringing the idyllic palette to full bloom. A mixture of round-topped and jagged mountains rose in the distance, in an unusual combination of shapes and sizes. Some looked like they’d been broken away from the other, with serrated edges, and others made smooth silhouettes against the azure sky. Mossy-green earth scaled up two-thirds of the mountainside until it met a stony cap of gray or brown for the final third. The road weaved between and around them, each bend revealing another little wonder such as a village or a valley view or a hidden manor house or a beautiful loch. Growing up in the mountains prepared her for the pretzel-like ride, but even her beloved Blue Ridges couldn’t compare to the otherworldliness of Skymar. Did all the islands look like this one?
And the air? Clean with a tinge of sea and pine. A combination Izzy had never imagined working so well together. Back home there were the mountains and then there was the ocean, and never the twain shall meet, but here the sea wafted a few hours in every direction. It tinted the breeze in subtle touches while more inland, or with more robust scents as the ocean drew nearer.
Brodie didn’t broach the subject of their previous conversation. He simply talked about the countryside and explained a few of the ruins or the Balleycraig Manor House or the village supposedly buried beneath the waters of Loch Kewilth. Everything emerged out the window in vibrant color as if they’d stepped into a chalk pavement picture from Mary Poppins, and all the while Brodie gave her permission to keep silent.
“I don’t want you making up any wild ideas about my home so I ought to prepare you.”
“Too late.” She tossed him a grin. “The drive alone has me waiting for the characters of James Herriot’s novels to show up from among the emerald hills and scattered forests.”
“Ah, I half expected you to say Cranford.”
She touched his arm. “Oh my goodness, how could I have forgotten Cranford!” She laughed. “And the fact you’re the one to mention that series makes me all sorts of happy.”
His grin crooked and her heart squeezed in response. “You keep underestimating my reading experience, Karre.”
And the endearment! The vibrato of his deep voice smoothing over that sweet endearment settled within her, like a tender sort of anchor. She smiled. She trusted him. Deeply. Maybe all these wonderful ways he believed in her paired with this new revelation she’d uncovered with Luke changed things. Made sense of years and years of her life.
She relaxed back into the seat, soaking in the growing awareness. “You’re definitely full of wonderful surprises, Mr. Sutherland.”
He kept his gaze ahead on the narrow road but held his grin. “Well, I’m afraid I may disappoint you a little with the house. Since I’m in midrenovation, a large part of the house is still in disrepair, but I’m making progress.”
She could practically feel the excitement oozing from his posture as he sped over the hills, closer to his “cliff house” as he called it. What was she supposed to think about a place like that? Agatha Christie? Dracula? Brontë’s Thrushcross Grange or . . . she shuddered . . . Lovecraft? She studied Brodie’s profile and shook her head. Nope. Let’s stick more with Herriot or . . . her lips tilted upward . . . Wodehouse. Yes, he was all things bright and beautiful and good.
And she gave her heart completely over. Come what may. She wanted to be with Brodie Sutherland.
He caught her staring and hung on for a second. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
“It’s definitely a benefit of in-person interaction.”
“I’ll make certain to take an extended time on that particular benefit once we arrive at the house, because”—he turned the car into a drive with two rock pillars on each side—“here we are.”
A little bronze sign within each rock pillar showcased a faded name: Waithcliff Manor.
Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a breath.
“Ah, I see your mind spinning with Brontë and Dickens.” He chuckled and started down the drive. “But I’m afraid you’ll find more of a derelict manor house for now, though I’m quite proud of what I’ve accomplished thus far.”
“Well, you have to at least have a kitchen, right?”
He nodded. “And a bit more than a kitchen. The government of Skymar is invested in restoring existing structures on the islands, so one can apply for special funds. But those additional funds arrive in trickles instead of gallons, so in between work and family, the renovation process has taken some time. And the larger and basic needs had to happen first. Windows. Stonework. Electrical and plumbing. So in order to stretch those funds, I’ve learned how to make certain repairs and restorations by watching copious amounts of YouTube videos.”
“YouTube is powerful.” Izzy turned back to the road ahead. “I fixed my sink because of a YouTube—” Her sentence cut off as a tower rose above the trees ahead. Izzy leaned forward, hands on the dashboard. The tree-lined drive opened to reveal a beautiful stone house of grayish tan. The “tower” Izzy had seen—a turret—rose up on the right and just beyond it . . .
“The ocean,” she whispered, catching glimpses of the sea through the veil of trees as Brodie brought the car to a stop in front of the house. And this time she did press her face against the window. She had stepped into a dream or a former era or . . . whatever.
“I usually enter through the kitchen, but I wanted to give you the special tour.”
Izzy barely had time to lift her mouth off the floor before he’d come around to her side of the car and opened her door. She took his outstretched hand and he pulled her forward, his attention shifting from her face to the house.
“It’s slow going, you understand, but I want to do it right.” He fingered through his keys as they neared the double dark-oak front doors with frosted glass embossed in the top third of the doors. “So I’ve only finished a few rooms thus far and only on the ground floor.”
“It has a tower,” Izzy rasped out as he placed the key in the lock. “Like . . . like a real tower.”
He paused and turned toward her, his brows giving a shimmy. “I know, which I believe should become the perfect reading room, don’t you?”
“Oh my goodness. That would be amazing.”
“Exactly what I thought too.” He began to push open the door and then stopped. “It’s still a work in progress. Remember that as we tour.”
“Stop stalling and let me see this castle of yours.” She nudged him forward and with a renewed grin he leaned over and took her lips with his. A soft, swift touch, but enough to bring her pulse into a responsive gallop.
With a squeeze to her fingers, he pushed open one of the double doors to reveal a beautiful but simple foyer. The stone floor led forward through an arched opening where a stairway curled up and out of sight. A lovely teardrop chandelier hung from a white ceiling adorned with diamond-shaped designs.
She wasn’t sure why she’d expected dark colors and leather, complete with dead animals on the walls. Maybe fictional daydreaming didn’t always give a clear representation. This tasteful simplicity matched her hero, though.
A sudden movement slid into her vision. Fuzzy, grayish white, and at a full run, up bounded a beautiful dog with every bit of welcome dripping from his overly large tongue. Brodie intercepted the furry bundle just before he made contact with Izzy’s jeans.
“Ah, I see the welcoming committee is in good form today.”
Izzy laughed and dropped to her knees, rubbing a palm over the dog’s soft head. Well, she tried. The puppy licked her hand well before her palm ever made it to his fur.
“Hello, Argos.” At the sound of his name, the puppy wiggled free from Brodie’s hold and squirmed right into Izzy’s chest, licking her face with all his might. She giggled and pulled back, redirecting the puppy love to her hands again.
“Ach! He’s trying to drown you.” Brodie took the puppy by the collar and gave him a little tug. “But he’ll calm down after a bit. He’s as excited to meet you in person as I was.”
“Samwise could keep up with him, I think.” She pushed to a stand as Brodie smoothed his palms over each side of the dog’s face in a calming fashion. He proceeded to give Brodie a sound lick on the nose, to which Brodie looked up at her with an apologetic shrug . . . and she pretty much decided she loved him. Bookshop or not. Cliff house or not.
Him.
“Now he’s calming a bit so we’ll let him join us on our tour until we head upstairs.” He stood and shot Izzy a wink. “Too much trouble for a curious dog to cause in the unfinished upstairs.”
“Well, this entry is absolutely lovely.” Izzy waved toward the room and Argos took it as invitation to come back to her side for another pet.
“You like it? I just completed it last week in expectation of your arrival.” He led the way forward, with Argos dashing off to sniff or chew on something or other before rejoining them. “Mum chose the wall color. I’m not exactly a decorator so every room that I’ve finished so far has been an exact re-creation of something I found online. But the chandelier is original to the house.”
“I love the rich taupe color with these pale stone floors, and . . . the chandelier is stunning.”
“Those are the original floors.” His expression was bright with excitement, like a little boy with a new toy. “I’ve been able to restore all the floors so far except those in the garden room. I did these myself.”
“You did an excellent job. Wow. I am beginning to wonder if there is anything you can’t do.”
“I’m not a visionary like you. And you have a much easier way with people than I do.” He walked to another set of double doors to the right. “And truth be told, I’m a bit messy.”
Which still seemed fairly small in comparison to all the things he did wonderfully well, like care, and tenderness, and a quirky sense of humor.
“Here is my next project. The sitting room.” He opened the doors to reveal an empty room with white walls and floor-to-ceiling windows lining the front. The large-slabbed wooden floors lay scratched and aged, but Izzy could envision them restored. A honey color with sage-green walls, perhaps? And freshly painted crown molding. The barren room came to life in her imagination. A bay window at the far end showcased a glimpse of sea. What a wonderful place to sit and daydream!
“You’re seeing the potential, aren’t you?”
She sent him a grin. “So much potential.”
“Do you know how to renovate?” He narrowed his eyes. “With all your creativity, I’m certain you’d be an excellent partner.”
She raised a brow, wondering if he’d meant the double entendre or if her heart just seemed to read between every one of his lines like he was taking his quotes from a romance novel. “I can paint.”
“Well, that’s excellent, because I paint poorly.”
As if he meant for her to be here . . . with him, painting his cliffside manor house!
They continued from the sitting room into another—a long, elegant space with an enormous marble fireplace. Brodie thought it had been a dining room.
“And now for the spaces that are actually complete. Here’s the kitchen.”
Immediately they entered a room almost large enough to fit Izzy’s entire apartment. Light-oak floors complemented the white kitchen cabinets that wrapped around one-third of the room. The rest of the space encompassed a small table and chairs by a bay window and a sitting area in a cozy half-circle in front of a small fireplace, bookshelves on either side. She recognized the space from their video chats. Brodie’s wall and throw-pillow color choices breathed of the sea—a soft blue-green—which could be seen in the distance through the kitchen windows.
Argos dashed across the floor to attack a mangled tennis shoe in the corner.
“Ah, another casualty to the puppy.”
Izzy laughed and stepped farther into the cozy room. “You have everything you need in this one room. Kitchen, living, dining.” Izzy stepped forward, entranced. “It’s wonderful.”
“I’m so glad you like it.” He gestured toward the table. “And actually, I had hopes of making dinner for you, if you’d like?”
She laughed, wrapping her arm through his and leaning her head against his shoulder. “Is that a trick question?”
“Good.” His grin crooked with an added twinkle in those eyes as he stared at her. Could this really be her future? With him? He was worth her future, but . . . how could she even imagine leaving home? She pushed the thoughts away. She didn’t have to make that decision today.
“I’ve renovated the room across the hall into a bedroom, but it would make an excellent study in the future, and it has an adjoining washroom.” He pulled her through a different exit from the kitchen into a hallway. “But there’s one unfinished room I must show you because I think it should be the library.”
He closed the door behind them, trapping Argos in the kitchen, before slipping up a narrow stairway, likely used as servants’ stairs in its historical life. They emerged into a hallway that spilled out onto a landing from the grand staircase she’d seen in the entryway, doors on all sides. The center boasted a skylight with unique stained glass designs that cast rainbow colors against the staircase below.
“I only had the skylight restored last month because it took a year to locate enough pieces to attempt a replica of the original.” At her look, he continued. “My uncle had dozens of historical photos of the place left by his grandfather before him, and I wish to restore as much as I can.” He tagged on a wink. “Except for things like updated kitchens, washrooms, and electricity. I’m quite fond of running water and working lights.”
She chuckled and linked her arm back through his again. The barren, broken walls waited for careful hands to stitch them back to their former beauty. The stone floor, similar to the entry, awaited repairs and refinishing, but the potential was there. Everywhere. Like an unedited story. Or a blank canvas. Her imagination brought the space to life, like the bookshop. All it took was a little “seeing beyond” as her dad had called it, though Izzy’s seeing beyond had been kept safely within the confines of her family’s expectations.
She paused on the thought a moment as Brodie drew her around the grand staircase, where they passed a few closed doors before stopping in front of another set of double doors.
The twinkle in Brodie’s eyes deepened and she couldn’t help but smile back. He was genuinely excited to have her here, to see his home and his world.
“This is a seaside room, which is the only place for a proper library in this house, if you ask me.”
He pushed open one of the doors and flipped a switch on the wall. Light illuminated the large room from a dazzling chandelier that looked like tree branches spreading soft light to all corners. The ceiling rose at least ten feet, framed on two sides by white, paneled walls, which only waited for repairs, followed by some elegant bookshelves.
Had this been a ballroom? She shifted a few steps into the room as her gaze fastened on the opposite wall, where a massive, arched floor-to-ceiling window gave a remarkable view of an endless blue horizon. The scene pulled her forward, her mind re-creating the space into a well-stocked library. Teals and rich browns to celebrate sea and earth. Paintings on the walls. A fire in the stone fireplace with two high-back chairs poised for a pair of readers. She could almost picture a cat sitting on the window seat, basking in the afternoon sun.
She breathed out a sigh. “You’d never want to leave.”
“A perfect place for a respite from the world, isn’t it?” He offered her his hand and led her toward a door situated by the window. “And with this view.”
Izzy’s breath caught as they stepped out onto a stone balcony. At this level they rose above the surrounding trees, and the sea spread before them in miles and waves of gray tide and azure sky. A few rocky islands dotted the coastline that stretched in a crescent shape to her left, begging for a quiet stroll.
“Brodie, I . . . I don’t have words. It’s amazing. All of it.”
His smile spread and he leaned back against the stone railing, the wind tossing his hair in wild puffs. “I’m pleased you like it.”
“Like it?” Izzy’s gaze pulled back to the view. “It’s perfect.”
“Even all the broken and older parts?”
“The older parts create character.” She shrugged, running her hand along the stone railing with its tiny scratches and bumps from years gone by. “And maybe the broken parts too.”
“Indeed, and then there are the unexpected beauties, like the chandeliers that only wanted some polish and care to show their true character.”
She looked over at him, his words holding an undercurrent of meaning. Maybe? But he didn’t clarify, only propped his elbows against the railing and turned his face toward the sea. Gusts of wind tossed his golden hair in distracting disarray. Izzy breathed in the scent, the feel of this place and moment with Brodie. It didn’t seem real. But none of it had. Except the embarrassing parts. The rest felt like God had reached into her imagination with all its fictional convolutions and pulled out things she hadn’t even thought remotely possible. Why would He do that for her? Had she gotten Him wrong too? Had she failed to really believe His love and goodness included her too? That she . . . belonged?
