Page 83 of Secrets That Bind Us
It’soff,and the screen isblank. Verity calls for me again, and I chuckle to myself with a shake of my head, putting it back. I’m losing my goddamn mind.I put the thing back.
“You want to have coffee with me out on the back porch?”
“You know what that sounds like to me, baby?”
She tilts her head at me, sliding her glasses up her nose in that Verity way I love.
“Sounds like the beginning of forever.”
She makes a small happy noise in the back of her throat, and I can’t help but grin at the love of my life.
When we open the back door, the sight before us is calm. After last night’s storm, there’s a low fog rolling over from the pond on the back of the property, and slight autumnal chill. I’m happy I chose to bring out a throw blanket. When Verity tries to sit on the other side of the new loveseat she got for me and Noah, I glare at her.
“I’m too heavy.”
I roll my eyes. “Good thing that ass ain’t boney. Come sit on my lap, woman. My thighs are cold.”
She does as she’s told; I lift my feet to put ‘em on the little cushioned ottoman and settle back. I got one hand on her hip, the other on a cup of coffee. Black. With just a smidge of whipped cream. I look over the land, behind the fence, where it’s overrun by barely blossoming sunflowers, thinking of Mama Marie. How she fought hard for the first six years after Verity was gone to keep the farm going but soon realized… she didn’t have to.
She didn’t give it up, of course. She simply sold the animals to other farmers in the area, by the herds. Then the equipment. The only thing she held onto was the land.Herfamily’s land. The more time I spent alone with Marie, the more I learned about Verity’s family history. It started with a few short stories Marie would recall from memory. Her little sister had drownedin the pond back in the sixties. She had a twin brother who’d died from a heart condition in his sleep. Her oldest sister married and moved to San Antonio, died a widow. Their relationship had been strained.
Marie married Richard Huntington when they were just twenty. Often stated I reminded her of him, but in all the best ways. See, Marie and Richard weren’t always what they were. They were young when they fell in love. Richard had been a hand her father had hired to help with the horses and cows. Learned everything about the farm. Including how to sneak in and out of the home to get to Marie. Richard’s cruelty didn’t start to show until decades into their marriage. When Marie wasn’t popping out kids, he blamed her.
But it wasn’t her. And he knew it.
Marie miraculously got pregnant when they were almost forty, almost two decades of no kids, then Richard started paying attention to the gossip.
The more Marie had tried to deny that Verity wasn’t Reverend Bishop’s child… the more Verity looked like Thomas.
But they were old school.
Divorce wasn't really an option, as much as she had begged Richard for it. Even though the property was in Marie's name… Richard had switched the company underhisname. Meaning he kept the money to himself. Marie had nowhere to go. No one to run to. Reverend Bishop was a man who lived within his means.
It was all fucked.
I'm not sure how much Verity knows about Marie… but I'm willing to bet it isn't much. Marie died with most of her secrets. Including ours.
I kiss her shoulder, loving the weight of her on me. It feels good. It feels surreal to be sitting here with the mother of my children, looking out at the property overrun by budding sunflowers. All I can see are the backyard barbecues. The birthday parties. A wedding in the barn… or two. I can see the possibilities of every future we hold in our hands, all at the hands of this woman I hold in my lap.
“A penny for your thoughts?” she asks in a whispered voice, as though she’s afraid to break the peace I feel in my soul.
“I know you’re planning to sell the house, but what do you plan to do with the rest of the property?”
“Evan wants to purchase it. He’s met up with Will a few times, roaming the last eight acres that aren’t being used by us. Going over every inch, trying to find a way to connect a driveway to mine, so he and Zo can get in easily without disrupting whoever buys the house.”
“You’d have to tear down the barn.” I say with a grimace, knowing I’ll miss the thing that housed our secret rendezvous as teens.
“Yeah,” she says sadly, tilting her head, resting her temple on mine. “It’s funny. Five months ago I wanted nothing to do with this place. Parts of me still want nothing to do with this place. There’s times…” she trails off.
“There’s times?” I repeat, imploring her to continue because I want to know every thought my woman has.
“There are times when I walk in through the front door, and I feel like I’m fifteen again, about to find Mama on the ground. There are memories etched into the walls here. Echoing. Haunting. As beautiful as I’ve tried to make it, Dean, there is ugliness. There is a darkness here lurking in the corners. I can’t explain it. I just feel it. Over a hundred and fifty years this house has stood. So many deaths on or around the property. The pond. I’m sure there are deaths even I don’t know about. It all lingers here like bloodstains on the very ground, seeping into the soil, taking it for itself.”
Chills erupt on my skin at her words.
“If we found another place to live here?”
She snuggles deeper under the blanket and into my side. I put the coffee mug on the table and place my free hand on her shapely hip, joining the other one, I interlock my fingers so I have a better hold.
