Page 34 of Sweet Surprises

Charlotte awoke to soft sunlight streaming in through the small windows around the fireplace.

It was so deliciously warm, but she felt like she must have slept half the day away. She hadn’t even thought about setting an alarm last night, figuring her sleep would be restless in her new surroundings. But it had been the opposite.

She hopped out of bed in a panic and found her cell phone, which was sitting on top of the dresser on its charger.

It was just before seven, which wouldn’t be super late in city-time, but here on the farm, it meant the first milking had already happened and the cows were getting ready to go out to forage for grass in what was left of the snow.

She headed to the bathroom, realizing she would need to take a bath, since there was no shower because the wall by the tub was sloped. She didn’t really want the family thinking she was a lazy person who slept late and took a hot bath every morning, but she didn’t really have much choice right now.

Half an hour later, she was feeling incredible. Pulling on clean jeans and a sweater, she checked the tiny bathroom mirrorand figured she looked put together enough to hang out on a farm and try to lend a hand.

On a whim, she grabbed her camera and brought it downstairs with her. She hadn’t really been taking many photos lately, but something about the farm was making her feel creative again.

Morning light streamed in all the windows. When she reached the first floor, she was stunned at the beauty of the old house. Ornate woodwork adorned the lumpy plaster walls and big windows. There were cozy area rugs that didn’t completely cover the pumpkin-colored pine floors. The walls were a little bare, but the old-fashioned woodwork and the beautiful views over the farm were their own kind of art.

She wandered into the kitchen to find coffee in the pot with a mug beside it, holding down a piece of paper.

Charlotte,

Headed out for chores. Kids are at school. We can go get your car later. Make yourself at home.

-Tag

It wasn’t the longest or most flowery message she had ever received. But she couldn’t help noticing that the quiet cowboy had added a whole extra sentence to his message—Make yourself at home.From anyone else it might be a breezy sign off, but she couldn’t help thinking that coming from Tag, it was a sign of real thoughtfulness.

As she stood re-reading her note, she heard a bird singing outside—two smooth flutelike sounds and then a series of toots. It sounded almost familiar, though she couldn’t remember what kind of bird sang that song.

She felt a little tickle in her mind—a feeling she always got when she was about to take a really good picture. Grabbing her camera, she headed out the back door to try and find the bird that had made the sound.

It was coming from near the back of the house, where the shadow of the hillside had preserved a lot of the snow. She moved as quietly as she could, with only the sound of the snow crunching under her boots. It was freezing outside, but she hadn’t wanted to stop to grab her coat for fear that the singer might fly off.

Fortunately, it didn’t take her long to spot her quarry—a beautiful male cardinal in a small pine tree overlooking the hill, singing his heart out.

Charlotte snapped two or three photos, unable to believe her good luck in finding the scarlet bird so close to the house. And he didn’t seem to be the least bit worried or surprised that he was having his picture taken. He hopped and sang and thrust out his fluffy red chest like he was putting on a show.

A loud sound from farther around the back of the house startled her, and sent her model sailing into the air in a flutter of red wings.

Charlotte was freezing by now, her fingers red, and her breath fogging in the morning air. But her curiosity about the repeated banging won out over her desire for creature comfort, and she moved quietly around to the back of the house again.

When she spotted the source of the strange sound, she froze in place for a moment.

Tag stood by an old stump, axe in hand, chopping firewood. His dark hair was hidden under a cowboy hat, and he wore a fleece-lined flannel over jeans. The muscles in his arms and his broad back flexed under the thick material with every strike.

Charlotte’s hands moved of their own accord, lifting the camera into position before she had time to think about it. Shetook a shot, capturing the highest point in the arc of the swing, and hopefully that perfect millisecond of the big man’s graceful movement.

Just as the shutter snapped, Tag looked up at her, as if he had sensed her presence.

Charlotte stumbled backward, then ran back for the house, feeling like a complete idiot. Who takes a picture of their boss without asking? And then runs away on top of it?

I do.

She just wanted to hide out for a minute, but when she got inside, the house wasn’t empty.

“Charlotte,” Tag’s dad said fondly. “It’s good to see you. Is Tag outside?”

“Yes,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat. Hopefully, they were already red from being outside and he wouldn’t notice her blushing furiously.

“Great,” Daniel said. “How are you settling in?”

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