Chapter 14

CHAPTER14

Southeastern Massachusetts

The Next Day

This was for the best, Morgan told herself, doing her best to hold it together as the taxi that they’d grabbed from the airport drove them home while the man that had barely said a word to her since he’d told her that it was time to go home sat next to her and-

She was fine.

She had a lot to do, Morgan reminded herself as she found herself staring down at the black wedding band on her finger and-

Everything was going to be fine.

Wondering how many times she was going to have to tell herself that before she started believing it, Morgan glanced at Eric to find him settled back in his seat, his head tilted back against the headrest, his eyes closed, and he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Would it kill him to look upset? Morgan wondered as she narrowed her eyes on the man that spent the past twenty-four hours alternating between making phone calls, glaring down at his phone, and muttering Theo’s name while she’d been struggling to convince herself that this was for the best.

In less than an hour, they’d be pulling into their driveway, and then…

Morgan had to wonder if she was really going to be able to do this.

She should have left when she had the chance, told him to bring someone else or lied to him and told him that she’d meet him at the airport and ran away like the coward that she was. It would have made things so much easier, Morgan thought, biting back a sigh as she turned her head and stared out the window, watching as trees and highway signs rushed by in a blur.

She wasn’t sure how she was going to pull this off. She could always sneak away in the middle of the night and hope for the best, Morgan thought, only to immediately dismiss the idea since Eric was a light sleeper and would probably question why she was packing her car at two in the morning. She could wait until he left the house and then leave like she’d originally planned, sending him an email when she reached a hotel and…

She couldn’t do that to him, Morgan realized, knowing that he was going to hate her when this was over, but maybe that was for the best.

“I can feel you pouting from here.”

“I’m not pouting,” Morgan grumbled as she pressed her forehead against the window as she released a heartfelt sigh that was quickly followed by a frown when she spotted the large highway sign letting her know that they were going in the wrong direction. “Ummm, Eric?”

“Yeah?” came the absently murmured response as Morgan sat up straighter as she turned her head to follow the green highway sign that let her know that they were heading towards Plymouth.

“Where are we going?” she asked as she swung her gaze back to Eric to find him watching her curiously.

“To finish our trip,” he said, making Morgan frown as she turned her head as the taxi slowed down and took the next exit.

“And we needed to come back to Massachusetts to do that?” Morgan asked, watching as the off-ramp quickly turned into a country road surrounded by dense woods, over a beautiful bridge cutting across a wide river.

“For this part of the trip, we did,” Eric said as the taxi turned onto a dirt road several minutes later and-

“Is that our truck?” Morgan couldn’t help but wonder as she took in the large black pickup truck with Bradford Remodeling written across the side.

“Looks like it,” Eric murmured, not really sounding all that concerned as she shifted her attention to the right and…

“You like it?” Eric asked as Morgan pressed her face against the window and tried to get a better view of the large two-story Victorian before her.

It was so unbelievably beautiful, Morgan thought with something close to a whimper as she took in everything from the set of matching chimneys on the roof that looked new down to the iron roof cresting, the small section of mansard roof covered in the wrong shingles, the broken eave brackets that needed to be replaced connecting it to the side of the house with the cracked off-green siding that she chose to ignore at that moment simply because it hurt her soul to see it on this beautiful house, the broken spindles on the second-floor balcony, and finally, the front porch leading up to the double doors that had her hands twitching with the need to push them open so that she could take a look inside.

“How old?” Morgan asked in a reverent whisper as she greedily took in every detail of that incredible house again as the taxi came to a stop on the dirt driveway.

“It was built in 1855,” Eric said after a slight hesitation as he paid the driver.

Nodding absently, Morgan blindly reached for the door handle and opened the car door, her gaze never leaving that house that she was already in love with as she stumbled out of the car. That was followed by swallowing hard when she felt it, the unmistakable feel of her shoe dragging across a rock surface. Telling herself not to get her hopes up, Morgan shifted her attention to the dirt driveway that she currently stood upon and toed at the packed dirt with her sneaker until she saw it and-

“Oh, God…”

A cobblestone driveway.

“From what Uncle Jared said, it should go all the way to the road and extend to the barn,” Eric said, immediately making her head snap up.

“There’s a barn?” Morgan asked in a reverent whisper, afraid to speak any louder out of fear that it would be enough to tear her out of this beautiful dream where all of her renovating dreams came true.

“Right over there,” Eric said, gesturing absently over his shoulder.

Praying that he wasn’t toying with her, Morgan released a shaky breath as she dropped her backpack to the ground and moved closer until she was able to peek around Eric and-

Was forced to grab hold of his arm when her legs threatened to give out when she saw it. A huge barn with the rock cellar built halfway into the ground, the first floor adorned with matching Dutch doors in the middle, a much smaller door to the side and a set of smaller Dutch doors on the second floor for the hayloft, and all of it was wrapped in the same off-green siding that marred the house. It would be the first thing that she got rid of if she ever got her hands on this project.

“There’s more,” came the amused announcement as she felt Eric peel her hand away from his arm so that he could take her hand in his and gave it a gentle pull that had her reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the barn that she loved more than anything and back on the house that was everything that she ever wanted in a nineteenth-century house and more.

“I don’t know if my heart can take anymore,” Morgan mumbled as she noted the way that the modern windows had been shoved into place without a care for the design and the platted glass that had long ago been neglected as she thought of all the things that she would do to bring it back to its former glory.

“Right there,” Eric said softly as he pointed at something etched into a stone in the house’s foundation.

Trying to make out the carved mark that was surrounded by a thick layer of green moss, Morgan took a step closer and-

“Is that what I think it is?” she asked, throwing Eric a curious look as she released his hand and moved closer so that she could run her fingertips over the N and B that had been carved into the stone.

“Noah Bradford.”

“Your great-grandfather?” Morgan asked as she tried to wrap her mind around what she was seeing.

Eric’s great-grandfather Noah had been an incredibly talented carpenter, building some of the most beautiful homes in Southeastern Massachusetts. From what she’d been told, he’d learned everything from his father, Robert, also a talented carpenter despite being born into one of England’s wealthiest families. He’d left England for a new start so that he could raise a family with his wife and one-time childhood nemesis, Elizabeth, whom he’d fallen deeply in love with.

They’d raised several sons, one of them Noah, who’d followed in his father’s footsteps, creating some of the most beautiful houses that she’d ever seen. He’d started off working for his father, building furniture with intricate designs that hid secret compartments before moving onto bigger projects. Noah started by building barns, churches, and quickly moved on to building houses. It wasn’t long before he had more requests than he could keep up with and was able to expand the business, hiring his brothers, and eventually their sons along with his own to keep up with the demand.

Over the years, most of the houses that Noah built were passed down from generation to generation, some were sold, and others were abandoned after years of neglect. Several generations of Bradfords had made it a point over the years to find the houses that had been neglected and set them to rights. When they were twelve, Eric’s father managed to get his hands on one of the houses, a colonial that she’d instantly fallen in love with that he’d renovated with the help of his brothers.

She’d offered him her allowance for a year and the rest of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the house, but he’d simply smiled down at her with a murmured, “God, you’re adorable,” before stealing her sandwich. Since then, she’d kept her eye out for another one, more than willing to do whatever it took to get her hands on it and now…

Now, she was leaving, Morgan reminded herself as she looked away along with the reminder that she didn’t have a choice, only to go still when she saw it, an RB carved into the stone next to Noah’s. She reached over with a trembling hand and brushed her fingertips over the engraving as she threw Eric a questioning look.

“Robert Bradford,” Eric murmured, letting her know just how special this house really was.

“I-I have to take a closer look,” Morgan mumbled in a daze as she stood up and quickly made her way up the stairs, telling herself that she just wanted one look and knowing before she reached for the doorknob that she was lying her ass off.

“The key’s in the mailbox,” Eric said, chuckling when she shifted her attention to the oversized cheap aluminum mailbox that had been nailed into the wall and shoved her hand inside and grabbed the key.

In seconds, she had the front door unlocked and was stepping inside the large foyer, absently noting the gray wall-to-wall carpet that had to go, the fact that someone thought it was a good idea to paint the walls lilac, the parlor to her right and the den to her left as her gaze locked on the grand staircase taking up most of the foyer. Deciding that she’d start at the top, Morgan quickly made her way up the stairs, cringing when her foot came in contact with that same ugly gray carpet lining the first floor and kept moving.

As soon as she reached the second floor, Morgan was opening doors, noting a random piece of furniture draped in a sheet here and there before she continued making her way down the wide hallway, noting the linen closet, the stairs to the attic, the room that looked like it had been used as a nursery over the years, several large bedrooms until finally, she came to the master suite, and-

Really wished that she’d left when she had the chance.