“It’s beautiful out here.” Exhaling the fresh air on a luxurious sigh I turned to Wilder. Staring out his spine straight as a rod, he smiled serenely. “You picked a great spot.”
His gaze turned to mine. “It wasn’t my original choice, but with thedevelopment along this side of the land, it means it’ll be easier to get power and water out here now.”
We were a ten minute ride from the stables, not too far to be remote but far enough to feel the peace and tranquility of the wide open space.
“Have you got a plan for the house?”
He gripped the pommel of his saddle, shifting his weight to one side, letting his hip roll with the sway of the horse beneath him. Brown eyes twinkled beneath the brim of his hat as he looked at me.
“Big bedroom for a huge bed,” he stated, his flirty smile telling me a whole lot more.
“One big enough for your…ego?”
He chuckled. “My ego is much smaller than you think. Now my dick on the other hand.”
I rolled my eyes, biting down hard to hide the smile tugging at my lips. “What else are you planning?” I asked.
“A rose garden out back.”
That surprised me. “Not a games room for a pool table?”
“That’s what visits to Downtown Bar & Grill are for.” He pointed to the right of where we’d pulled the horses up. “That’s where I’ll have the front porch, where it gets the sun first thing in the morning and last thing at night. It’ll be a single story with one huge living space with floor to ceiling windows and doors that open into the back yard.”
“Where your rose garden will be.”
He nodded. “For my mom. She loved roses. Gunner is having one too, yellow roses. I’ll have pink and the main house has white.” Wilder’s gaze met mine and the playfulness I was used to from him was gone. He was thoughtful as he swallowed. “We all have a piece of her that way.”
“My grandma’s favorites were pansies. She loved how vibrant they were,” I said as the wind picked up and Isabelle shifted beneath me. I leaned forward to give her another comforting scratch between her ears. “I miss her. You must miss your mom, too.”
“I don’t really remember much about her, other than she used to read me this book, Fantastic Mr. Fox. It was hers when she was a kid and she’d read me a few pages each night. It used to be my favorite time. Don’t know whathappened to the book, though.” He soothed Alice and then lifted his leg to dismount. “And then one day she didn't come home. Nash tried to explain, but all I heard was that she left us. Left me.” His jaw tightened. “And then Dad made it clear every day after that it didn’t matter that she was gone, we had to man up. He didn’t care that he was our only parent, he still didn’t have time for us.”
My heart lurched as the idea of a tiny Wilder without his mom. An age when he needed her the most. “I can’t imagine it. I miss my mom and dad so much, and they’re only in Florida.”
“It was hard, not going to lie, but at that age you adapt quickly. Plus, I had Nash and Gunner.”
It didn’t escape me that he hadn’t mentioned his father. It was no secret that Mr. Miller, Silver Peaks ex-mayor, was in prison for stealing millions from his sons as well as poisoning the creek. It was also no secret that the brothers didn’t have a good word to say about him, even before he was arrested.
“They took care of you?” I asked, also dismounting. Taking Isabelle’s reins, I passed them to Wilder, who tied the horses loosely together.
“Yes and no,” he finally replied, glancing over his shoulder at me. “Gunner was distraught, and Nash just closed up.” His grin was crooked. “I took it upon myself to be the one who made everyone smile. You know with my quick wit and incredible humor.”
There was an emptiness in his words as, with a shrug, he started to stroll toward where his house was going to be.
“And I guess I carried on being the family clown.”
“Who kept you smiling, though?”
“Not my dad, that’s for sure. He was barely around, left us to our own devices or expected Felicia to take up the slack.”
“Was she working at the lavender farm then?”
“Yep, but it wasn’t quite so busy in those days, so it was mainly just Shane. Felicia used to help Mom around the house and with the cooking, so she stepped up as unofficial Nanny.” He stooped to pick a blade of grass. “We thought Dad was working but it seems he was spending time with his mistress to avoid his three grieving sons.”
Tears stung the back of my eyes at the stoop in Wilder’s shoulders, the empty sadness in his words. How sad that a six year old boy had to be the one to make sure everyone else smiled. All when he was probably breaking on the inside.
Wilder spun around, threw the grass to the ground, and asked, “What do you think about a log burner rather than an open fire?”
“I don’t know. I love the log burner in the cabin, but there’s something beautiful about an open fire. It’s welcoming and magical somehow.”
