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ChapterForty-Seven
SPENCER
I’m not gonna lie. It’s an effort not to drive off the road. My heart’s clawing out of my chest, and my stomach’s been clenched for—oh, I don’t know—the past eight hours. Or eight weeks. Two years.
Give or take.
I had to count on others to pull off my plan, which is—historically—difficult for me. But I’m working on letting go. Embracing my inner spontaneity. And tonight’s a piece of spontaneousness Tess won’t see coming.
As we continue across town, I can’t even look at her. The one time I did, about a minute ago, I almost blurted out the surprise. But the way she’s squirming now—vibrating with excitement—makes my nervous anticipation worthwhile.
When we drive out of Apple Valley, she makes a sound in the back of her throat. She’s probably even more curious, but we’re almost there. Not too far out of town. Definitely closer than Mrs. Dodd’s place. The property is about one quarter the size of hers. But that’s enough. More than enough. It’s not the acreage, it’s the people. The heart.
The home.
Turning off the main highway, I take a road that winds down along the river. Tall trees line the way. A canopy of branches bends over our heads. From previous scouting visits, I know we’ll hear the rush of water where we’re going. I slow to a stop on the side of the road and flash my headlights. Once. Twice. Three times. That’s the signal.
Up ahead, through the trees, a flashlight clicks on, beaming in arcs across the sky. It’s like someone on an airport tarmac waving a plane in. We’re the plane.
I hazard looking at Tess.Don’t blurt it out. “You ready?”
Her shoulders creep up to her ears. “Whatever’s happening, I love it. Probably. I think. Yes. I love it.”
“Well, let’s see for sure.” I pop open the door. “Wait here.” Jogging around to the passenger side, I help her out of the car. If I’m lucky, she’ll let me do that forever. I’ll never get tired of helping her out.
“Do I need a blindfold or something?” She tucks her hair behind her ears.
“Ha! Look at you trying to make this a bigger surprise than it already is. Tell you what. Next time, I’ll bring a blindfold.”
“Deal.”
As I take her hand and we head down the path, Tess swings our arms like we’re two kids entering Disneyland. I didn’t want her to see what was coming, so we have to walk a ways up the road. Pretty soon, though, the glow is obvious. Then a truck starts up in the distance. Mac and Fix are making themselves scarce.
My pulse picks up, the blood coursing through me. I squeeze Tess’s hand.
This is it, Spence.
We cover the last stretch of road, then pick our way over to a clearing. There, countless lanterns are set up in intervals to create a giant triangle. In total, the space measures a full third of an acre. Inside the triangle are even more lanterns forming a perfect square. A thousand square feet.
Tess blows out a breath. “That’s a lot of lanterns.”
“Yeah.” I rub my neck. “McCoy Construction has about a billion of them.”
“Fortuitous,” she says.
I lead her the rest of the way, and together we step over the triangle and into the square. At the center, a wicker basket sits on top of a picnic blanket. I don’t even have to ask. Tess plops down and crosses her legs. Her eyes shine in the light of the lanterns. “I’m glad I didn’t have a blindfold on. Seeing is the best!”
I take a seat next to her and nod at the basket. “Go ahead.”
“If you insist.” Within seconds, she’s got the lid up, peering inside. She pulls out a cardboard tube. “What’s this?”
“Open it.” After prying the lid off, she plucks out a scroll of papers. I help her spread them on the blanket.
“What is this?”
“Blueprints of a house.” I gesture at the lanterns closest to us. “These represent the footprint of those plans.” Tess examines the papers for a moment, then looks up at me. I sweep an arm out to our surroundings. “And those lanterns farther out? They represent the land the home sits on.” Her eyes trace the shape of the property. Finally her gaze lands on me. “A triangle and a square?”
I nod.
