It was shockingly intimate, having someone study me that closely. And even though he wasn’t saying a word and hadn’t moved his behind from the bench seat the whole time he’d been in here, I couldn’t help but feel… surrounded by him.
It was wonderful. Terrifyingly wonderful.
“So, the fairy tale?”
“Right.” I dusted my hands on my sweatpants casually, trying to hide the way my heart was pounding. I sat on the bed while Webb leaned over to grab another spoon out of the dish drainer. He handed it to me along with the remainder of the ice cream.
“You want the long version of the fairy tale or the short?” I asked.
“Thewholeversion.” He twisted in his seat to face me. “The real version.”
“Okay, then.” I cleared my throat and stabbed at the ice cream. “Once upon a time, an overworked, underpaid elementary school teacher’s mother encouraged him to enter an essay contest she’d found in the back of her fiber arts magazine?—”
“Fiber arts magazine?”
“Yup.” I licked my spoon. “TheWool Gatherer Quarterly. I only ever read it for the articles, but my mom reads it cover to cover?—”
His lips twitched. “You? Read theWool Gatherer Quarterly?”
“Not only read, I sometimes create patterns for them,” I said, lifting my chin proudly. “Crochet, usually. I also knit, and spin, and weave… when I have a loom.”
“Ah. That’s cool.” He fingered the blanket again.
“I think so. It’s a creative outlet, and I get to enjoy the finished product. Teaching is awesome, but when you’re dealing with kids, there’s no immediate gratification?—”
Webb nodded. “Like parenting.”
He ran his big hand over the soft blanket once more. It did funny things to my stomach, and I filled my mouth with a huge spoonful of ice cream so I wouldn’t be tempted to do something stupid, like beg him to touch me that way.
He is straight, Luke.And he’s not meant for you.
“Anyway, as I was saying. The ad said something like, ‘Craft a better life! What would you do with forty idyllic acres of rural, partially forested land, complete with enclosed pastures and an elegant farmhouse, nestled in the heart of New England? Tell us your fairy tale, and this castle could beyours in perpetuity!’”
“Sounds too good to be true.”
I laughed. “So many people told me that. But, I dunno. My mom was so excited, and I wanted to believe it could be real, so… I did it. I poured out the dream of my heart.”
“Which was…?” Webb prompted when I paused.
I took a deep breath. Was I really going to share this with him? “To find a place with an accepting community and friendly neighbors, as well as enough land to build a fiber arts studio where people from all over the world could come to learn the skills my mom tried to teach me over the years. I wanted her love and legacy to live on, even if lung disease stole her from me.” I stared down at my hands. “Hokey, right?”
Webb stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head solemnly. “Not at all.”
For some reason, his acceptance hit me harder than his earlier judgment had. Hot tears pricked my eyes.
Webb levered himself off the bench, and a second later, he sat beside me so he could bump his shoulder with mine.
“I live my great-grandfathers’ legacy every day, remember? I work hard so I can pass that on to Aiden.”
I lifted my gaze to his. “Oh.” I hadn’t thought of it that way.
“You said your mom’s doing better?”
“Yeah. She had surgery and pretty intense pulmonary therapy, and it hasn’t been easy, but she’s a fighter. And when she learned I won the contest, she lost her mind with excitement. It was all gonna be a fairy tale, she said. An adventure. And she wanted me to live it for both of us. So…” I shrugged.
Webb nodded again, and I thought maybe he understood.
“She agreed to move in with her sister and follow her doctor’s orders, so within a couple of months, I’d signed papers on my new property, googled teaching jobs and credentials in Vermont, packed up my stuff, and turned in my resignation at my school in North Carolina. It was all so easy, it felt like it was fate. And then I got here.” I chuckled, then sighed.
