~Chapter 6 - A Personal Tour~
2104 Words
~Dawn~
I skipped giddily down the stairs behind Reece, who seemed entertained by my flamboyancy. The nausea had passed, and I was feeling good, and while I was feeling good, I was going to enjoy it.
“So, how long have you lived here?” I asked Reece as we reached the second-floor landing.
“Good question,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve lived in Mist my entire life and moved into the house when I was twenty-two…”
“I see…” I said, my eyes flicking from one wall to the next, soaking everything with wide eyes like a child in a sugar rush. “Then you would know this place inside and out.”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he replied. “I’ve done my years of exploration.”
“Well, then I picked the right tour guide then.” Giggling, I stepped back, my mind filling with everything.
I took another step back and straight into Reece. We locked gazes as he caught me, saving me before I found a quick and uncomfortable trip down the stairs. As his arm wrapped around my waist, that warmth returned to my body, making those inactive buttons that had gone dormant for years pulse. He reached for my chin, running a feathered touch across my jaw. For a moment, I was lost in the sensation until his amber eyes brought me to my senses.
“We should go…” I insisted, finding my feet.
Reece reluctantly removed his arm from around me, then nodded. “I have a few places I want to show you…”
“Sounds like fun!”
A strange feeling consumed me as we descended the stairs. It was as if something had passed between us at that moment, something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Our eyes met continuously, and I struggled to deny the inexplicable attraction. Despite the house’s grandeur, I found myself inexplicably drawn to him, as if he was the only thing that mattered at that moment. What’s going on with me?
“Hey, Dad,” a young man who was a mirror image of Reece greeted us as we emerged from the staircase.
I had to doubletake as I glanced from Reece to him and back to Reece again.
“Hey, son,” Reece replied, patting the boy’s shoulder. “What are you up to? And where’s Agatha and my granddaughter?”
“Agatha and Anya are resting,” he said with a sigh. “Anya had us up all night and most of today… I need coffee and lots of it.”
“I remember those days,” Reece snorted, rubbing his neck. He nodded at me. “Sorry, Kingston, this is Dawn… Dawn, this is my son, Kingston.”
“I figured as much,” I said, smiling at Kingston. “It was either that, or he’s your clone, but I saw the resemblance.”
They both laughed.
“I could be his clone,” Kingston teased, elbowing his father. “But I’ve got brains…”
“That’s debatable,” Reece snorted, winking at his son.
I sighed inwardly. Kingston was the same age as my son, James, and his bond with Reece was like my bond with James. It had been nearly two weeks since I had been given the diagnosis and gone on holiday and almost two weeks since I had seen him. As I watched this playful interaction, it made me miss him.
Kingston yawned, stretching his arms behind him. “It’s nice to meet you, Dawn, but I need that coffee.”
“The god’s golden happy juice,” I agreed. “I rely on that every morning.”
He winked at me. “That’s exactly right…”
“We’ll be back a little later… In time for that meeting…” Reece said, reaching for the front doors. “George is planning a family dinner beforehand, so hopefully, you, Agatha and Anya will be there.”
“We’ll try,” he called, waving back over his head. “I’ll see you both then.”
“Bye,” I called back as I turned for the door. “It was nice to meet you…”
“Same…” He shouted back.
“After you,” Reece offered, gesturing through the door.
“Thank you, good sir,” I jested with a bow.
His playful laughter followed me out into the crisp evening air. I stopped suddenly and breathed it in, catching the scent of pine in the air. I had stopped that suddenly that Reece bumped into the back of me.
“Ooff…” I gasped as his arm once again looped around me and stopped me from falling face-first into the stairs.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” he teased, his breath whisking against my left ear.
“Yeah,” I exhaled, my heart racing against my chest, echoing in my ears. That tingling sensation was at an all-time high, and I was getting closer and closer to losing the battle against it. I peered back over my shoulder. “I’m a bit clumsy these days, sorry…”
“Don’t be…” His lips were inches from mine.
“We should start that tour.” I swallowed and stepped away, his arm falling away from me. “Before dinner… And your meeting thingy.”
“Yes,” he agreed hesitantly. “I’ll start with the orchard at the side of the house…”
“That sounds lovely,” I grinned. But now my mind was occupied with other thoughts of Reece in a way that had never happened before. I attempted to shake the feeling off, but it lingered.
“It’s this way,” he gestured to the right of the mansion and started walking away.
I hurried to catch up, walking over an odd patch of faded orange grass on the way.
“What happened there?” I asked, pointing to it.
Reece glanced in the direction I was pointing, then continued on his path. “We had a gathering a few months ago, and one of the…” He rubbed his chin. “One of the wine barrels was knocked over and stained the grass.”
“Oh damn,” I said, catching up with him. “What a shame… That would have been a nightmare to clean up.”
“It was,” he agreed with a nod.
We walked a few meters in an odd silence, passing through a gate built into a hedge fence, my shoes, and his bare feet crunching over the gravel path. Trees flanked the way, providing a canopy of shade that shielded us from the sun’s harsh rays. We reached another gate and stopped so Reece could open it.
“What happened with Kingston’s mother?” I asked before I realised what I had said. With a startled gasp, my hand shot to my mouth. “Sorry, that was rude. I don’t have permission to ask those questions.”
“It’s fine,” Reece replied as he swung the gate open and ushered me through. On the other side, he faced me. “My late wife Layla passed away when my daughter was a few months old, and Kingston was about two…” His eyes shimmered, fighting back tears as he held my gaze. “That was eighteen years ago…”
“I’m sorry.” I placed a comforting hand against his arm. “My husband, Nate, passed away two years ago. A horrible car accident. So, I know your pain.”
His hand found mine. He held it before him and caressed it gently. “You never forget them, but after a while, the pain gets a little less—”
“—Painful…” I added with a sniffle. “I know…”
He dropped my hand and stepped closer, breaching the gap between us. He placed his hands on my shoulders, leaned down, and kissed my forehead. “We should continue this tour…”
“Yes,” I managed to say as the gentleness of his touch relaxed me.
We reluctantly moved away from each other and continued the hike. It wasn’t long until we arrived at a vast rectangular field that stretched as far as my eyes could see. Neatly lined fruit trees decorated the field with grape vines on either side. The aroma of fermenting fruits filled the air.
“So,” Reece said, facing me as he walked backwards onto the field, veering towards the fruit trees. “What fruit do you like? I’m a pear man… We have apples, oranges, apricots… You name it, we have it.”
“Pears are good,” I admitted, glancing around. My eyes landed on the glistening red apples dangling from the trees to our right behind Reece. “But I’m more of a red apple kind of gal…”
“Perfect,” he stopped before the tree, reached up and grabbed the reddest apple among the others. He pulled it free and then tossed it to me.
I caught it and turned it in my hands. It was one of the shiniest red apples I had ever seen. “Thank you…”
“Try it,” I insisted.
“Okay,” I bit into it, and my mouth watered. Juice ran down my throat. Wow!
“Good, am I right?” He grinned.
“Oh wow,” I said once I finished my mouthful. “That’s so sweet…” I gestured to the field. “And this is so beautiful. I can’t wait to draw it.”
“You have this twinkle in your eyes when you talk about drawing,” he said, stepping towards me. I gripped the apple tight as he reached a hand to my face, brushing hair from my eyes. “I…”
“You, what?” I asked, unable to look away from him.
He gripped my arm, and my heart fluttered, making my stomach twist in knots. Those buttons pulsed, making me forget where I was.
“I have more places to show you…” He stepped back. “Shall we?”
“Yes,” I swallowed, tasting the apple in my mouth. “That sounds good.”
We continued our exploration, the air thick with unspoken feelings. Reece led me through the orchard, pointing out the different varieties of fruit trees, explaining the intricate process of winemaking, his passion clear in every word. I listened intently, but my mind was elsewhere, replaying the moments we had shared, the almost-kisses, the lingering touches. It was a dangerous game we were playing, a dance on the edge of a precipice.
As we walked, I absentmindedly ate the apple, its sweetness a stark contrast to the bittersweet emotions swirling within me. The diagnosis loomed large, a shadow hanging over my newfound connection with Reece. The flirting couldn’t be ignored. Was it fair to him to even entertain the possibility of a friendship—or something more when my future was so uncertain?
We emerged from the orchard into a secluded garden, a hidden oasis bursting with vibrant colours and intoxicating scents. Roses of every imaginable hue climbed trellises, their velvety petals unfurling in the gentle breeze. A stone fountain gurgled softly, its water shimmering in the dappled sunlight. It was a scene straight out of a fairy tale.
“This is beautiful, Reece,” I breathed, genuinely captivated. “Who knew it was hidden behind the mansion?”
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “My Layla loved roses. After she passed, George allowed me to plant this in her memory. I come here with life gets stressful…”
A pang of sympathy resonated within me. Loss seemed to be a common thread weaving through our lives. “Layla must have been a remarkable woman,” I whispered.
“Yes, she was,” he replied, his voice tinged with sadness. “She taught me the importance of beauty in the unexpected, of finding joy in the simplest things… And how to soothe with wolf within.”
“Wolf?” I asked, curiously. “Do you mean the beast within?”
“Much the same…” He plucked a branch of lavender from a nearby bush and offered it to me. “For you,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “Lavander has many abilities… And it smells nice.”
I accepted the lavender, its velvety petals soft against my fingertips. “Thank you,” I whispered, inhaling its intoxicating fragrance. “I love lavender…”
- Writer
