“None taken.” She grins. “Do you make a lot of rocking chairs?”
“Actually, that’s my first one.” I motion to it, propped up on the workbench. “Casey and his wife are having a baby.”
“That’s very generous,” she gushes. “My grandpa loved woodworking, too. Even though I never met him, I inherited the wooden Christmas village he made for my grandma. Every house is a music box that plays a Christmas song.” She pauses, wringing her hands in her lap as sadness laces her tone. “When I moved this past summer, the transport crew dropped the crate holding the three cottages. Luckily, the shops and the church survived, but I was still devastated.”
I give her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sorry you lost them.”
She tips her head, giving me a small smile. “I appreciate it. I’ll replace them eventually—they just won’t have the same sentimental value as the old ones.”
Her story strikes a chord I didn’t think still existed. She makes me want to solve every one of her problems, no matter how small, even though I have no business being invested. In less than two days, she’s already twisting my head with her relentless optimism and fiery passion.
I don’t like how my hand on her shoulder sends a ripple of heat through me. I move it to my side, flexing my fingers to shake off the part of me already disappointed that she’ll be gone once the storm passes.
Note to Self: The Cowboy Has A Soft Spot
Yesterday was quiet, and I spent most of it reading, except for the hour Shep let me hang out with him in his workshop. I enjoyed watching him work but knew better than to overstay my welcome. It’s obvious that it’s his sanctuary. I fell asleep on the couch again and only stirred once to see Shep tending the fire. It seems he wasn’t willing to risk a repeat of my first night, and I couldn’t help but smile at his subtle attentiveness.
This morning, he made delicious sausage, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwiches before disappearing into his bedroom a while ago.
I’ve attempted to distract myself with another book, this one about a mafia boss forcing his enemy’s daughter into an arranged marriage—but I can’t seem to get into it. As much as I adore reading, the collection of books I downloaded for this trip can only keep me occupied for so long. That’s why I set my e-reader aside when I glance up from the couch and see Shep stepping out of his room in his coat and boots, heading for the front door.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To the barn to feed the animals,” he says as he slides into his boots.
I spring to my feet. “Can I come with you?”
Yesterday’s short trip to the workshop out back was rough in the storm, but now that the snow’s eased up, I’m itching to get outside and explore, including the barn.
He stands to his full height, his expression wary. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
That’s not a no.
“Please? I’m tired of being cooped up in the cabin and would love some fresh air.” I tip my chin, giving him the saddest eyes I can muster. “I still don’t have service, so I can’t work, and I’m not used to having so much downtime.”
Shep told me earlier that service here is unreliable on a good day and nonexistent during bad weather, so there’s no telling when it’ll be back up.
I’m not exaggerating when I say I’m not used to sitting around with nothing to do. I record six podcasts a week—including a Saturday special—while juggling my social media and attending brand events. This trip marks the first time I’ve taken more than an afternoon off for an appointment or a dinner date in two years.
When I booked my impromptu vacation, I notified my audience and sponsors that I’d be taking a couple of days off from the podcast. I figured that would give me enough time to settle in before editing the videos for the rest of the year. Naturally, my plans changed when I found myself in a winter wonderland without service, making editing or posting impossible for the time being.
It’s a sudden change given that until recently, I spent most of my time putting everyone else first both at work and in my relationships, and somewhere along the way, I lost sight of myown needs. I’ve realized it’s time to prioritize my happiness and refuse to settle for less than I deserve. That includes finding a partner who puts me first and stands by me, even when I’m stubborn and set in my ways.
This trip was supposed to be about self-discovery—the first step in learning to love and prioritize myself before letting someone else in. It might not be going as planned, but I’m still determined to make the most of it.
“Fine. You can come as long as you don’t get in the way,” Shep grunts.
“You won’t regret it!”
I could’ve sworn he tacked on a muttered “I already do,” but I can’t be sure.
I brush it off, too excited to venture outside. Shep mentioned the mountain roads are still covered in snow and ice, so it might be a while before I can leave. I’m determined to make the most of my time here rather than dwell on things out of my control.
I slip on the boots Shep loaned me—the ones I wore to the workshop yesterday. They’re far too big, but he’s padded the inside with socks so they fit better.
He eyes the flannel I’m wearing over a long-sleeved thermal. This morning, they were waiting for me in the bathroom, along with a clean pair of sweats. Looks like I’ll be borrowing his clothes until the weather cooperates enough for me to head back to Phoenix.
“If you’re coming, you’re wearing something warmer.” Shep takes a coat from the rack near the door and holds it open in front of me. “Put your arms through.”
