Chapter Eight: Martha

Chapter Eight – Martha

Martha and Clint stepped out of the real estate agent’s office into the afternoon sun, which glinted off the street. The easiness that they’d shared in the realtor’s office seemed to have evaporated and they smiled at each other a little awkwardly as they started walking down the street.

Her mind seemed to have gone blank, and she searched for something to say before blurting out, “Are you sure you don’t mind coming with me to see the property?” Martha didn’t want Clint to feel obliged to come with her to view the shack. “I’m sure I can find it on my own if you’re too busy. You must be so busy running the lodge.”

“No, I don’t mind at all. I can spare a few hours...for you,” Clint insisted as they reached her car. “Sammy is right. The roads can be treacherous at this time of year.”

“I’m going to have to trade in my car for something more suitable for the terrain.” Martha ran her fingers reverently over the hood of her car as they came to a stop. The midnight blue paint was flawless, a testament to years of care and attention. She loved her car, but it was a symbol of her old life and she needed something more suitable for her new adventure.

“I know a guy...” Clint stalled. “Sorry, I don’t want to be pushy.”

“You’re not, honestly.” She sucked in a deep breath. “It’s a relief to feel as if I have a friend in town. You have no idea how scary it is to start over somewhere new and not know anyone. As I was driving here, I...” She paused, not wanting to share too much of herself with a man she hardly knew. Clint made it all too easy to open up, but she needed to be guarded and not overshare.

“You what?” Clint urged.

“I nearly lost my nerve and turned around.” She ducked her head, feeling stupid. “A new experience for me.”

Clint’s eyes were soft as he said, “There’s no shame in experiencing doubt or questioning ourselves. That’s how we learn who we truly are.”

Martha grinned. “Wise words,” she said, admiration ringing in her voice.

“I do my best.” His eyes twinkled, and a roguish grin slipped over his lips.

“I hope you have some of those wise words when I ask your opinion about this shack we’re going to view.” She sighed heavily. “I don’t want to be so eager, or desperate, to buy a house that I make the wrong decision.”

Clint captured her gaze and held it with a quiet intensity. “I’ll never be anything other than honest with you,” he vowed. His voice was strong and determined, and utterly honest.

“Okay.” She gave a single word reply, her eyes locked on his, her heart rate speeding up as a blush rose to her cheeks.

“Okay. Shall we get going?” Clint laid his hand on the hood of her car, so near that all she had to do was stretch out her fingers just an inch and they’d be connected once again. Her heart quivered as the memories of their first touch rushed back to her...the sparks of energy that had flown between their skin like wildfire.

“Should I follow you in my car?” she asked Clint, her voice brimming with excitement.

He nodded and suggested, “Why don’t you follow me to the outskirts of town? You can leave your car in a small parking lot on the lower slopes. Then I’ll drive us the rest of the way in my truck. The roads are steep, and there’s still ice on the ground where it’s sheltered from the sun.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Martha said, her heart beating faster as she found herself staring at Clint again.

“Okay.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket and jingled them in his hand. “I’m just up the street.”

“I’ll wait for you to pull out and then I’ll follow you.” Martha got in her car and took a breath before she inserted her key in the ignition and started the engine.

She watched as Clint reached his truck and climbed in. He certainly seemed fit, his body well-toned. Not that she was taking any notice. No notice at all.

Clint started his truck and Martha pulled out into traffic and followed him out of town.

She couldn’t deny her excitement, and relief, that she’d asked Clint to come with her to the shack. He was good company, and she was certain he’d be brutally honest with his views on the property, unlike a realtor who might give her a hard sell.

Martha followed Clint’s truck through the winding, tree-lined roads outside of town. The sun was rising higher in the sky and the light poured in through her car windows, giving the world an ethereal glow.

The road wound through farmland and woods, and eventually, they reached a gravel parking lot beside a meadow covered in a dusting of snow. A light breeze rustled through the trees as Martha parked her car beside Clint’s truck. As she stepped out, she breathed in the sweet smell of the mountain and felt a thrill of anticipation ripple through her.

“Climb on in?” Clint leaned across the truck and opened the passenger door.

Martha nodded, locking her car before joining him in the cab of his truck. She fastened her seatbelt, and Clint put the truck into gear and they drove off.

The engine roared as they made their way up the twisting mountain roads, passing ranches nestled under the watchful gaze of the towering mountains.

The sun shone brightly against a clear blue sky, and Martha felt like she was in another world entirely. Everywhere she looked, there was something new to marvel at. The snow-covered peaks, the deep snow-filled valleys below them, the crystal-clear rivers that ran through them.

Clint drove with quiet confidence, his hands sure on the wheel as they negotiated each turn. Martha found herself growing more aware of him with every mile they traveled; his presence seemed larger than life in such a small space.

Martha cast a sideways glance at Clint, smiling to herself at the way the breeze ruffled his hair as it blew in from the window which was cracked open an inch despite the cold weather. Excitement and nervousness coiled in her chest as they drove farther away from town. She was completely dependent on him, out here in the cold isolation of the mountain.

At last, they reached their destination and pulled up to an old wooden shack set back from the road, nestled amongst a grove of pine trees at the edge of a meadow.

In summer, the meadow would be filled with wildflowers that would stretch out before her. She’d lie down in their midst and let their fragrance fill her lungs as she watched the white clouds drift across a baby-blue sky.

As her heart fluttered at the thought, she closed her eyes and let the dream take shape. She turned her head to the side, and there next to her was Clint, smiling with a look of love in his eyes. Her eyes flew open, and she let out a small gasp.

“That bad?” Clint asked.

“No,” Martha blurted out. “It’s not bad at all.” She brushed her hand across her eyes, feeling foolish.

Clint stepped out of the truck and walked around to her side. He held his hand out to her, a warm smile on his face. “Come on then, let’s explore.”

She slipped her hand into his and warmth spread from her hand along her arm and throughout her body. Her skin tingled at his touch, but this time she was prepared, and she forced herself to keep her breath even.

He led her up toward the shack and they both stopped in their tracks when they saw it close up.

“Okay, maybe it is that bad.” Disappointment bloomed in her chest as she stared at the building. What there was of it.

But then Clint’s hand squeezed hers and he said, “Look at the potential. The view from here is amazing. Just imagine if we put in some windows to take advantage of it. And a porch. How sweet it would be to spend the early evening on that porch, sipping a glass of wine, and admiring this glorious view.” He swept his arm across the landscape, taking in all its beauty.

Martha smiled, her heart warming as she realized Clint wasn’t just trying to make her feel better; he was genuinely seeing the good in this place and encouraging her to do the same. She looked up at him, grateful that he’d sacrificed his time for her.

“You’re right,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze in return. “Let’s go take a closer look.”

The closer look revealed just how old and dilapidated the shack was, but Martha could see the potential Clint saw in it.

A small porch surrounded by a picket fence with wild roses growing up it; old wooden shutters that would be perfect for adding a splash of color against the weathered wood; a chimney rising from one side, with thick smoke billowing from its top.

Cozy, just what she’d wanted.

It wasn’t perfect, but it called to her in a way no other house had. Even with its shortcomings, she wanted to make it her own. She could almost picture herself taking up residence, polishing off the rough edges and transforming it into something special.

Sure, the shack wasn’t exactly what she had expected when she set out on this journey, but perhaps this was fate’s way of telling her that this was what was meant for her all along.

“I don’t know if I’m brave enough to take on such an enormous project,” Martha admitted.

Clint smiled and put his arm around her shoulders. “You don’t have to do it alone,” he said. “I’m here with you every step of the way.”

Martha sighed, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. She’d been so worried about taking on this project that she hadn’t believed in herself enough to take the first step. But now, with Clint’s reassuring presence beside her, she felt ready to take on anything.

She looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Clint’s gaze was unreadable, sending a strange mix of confusion and anticipation coursing through her veins. He gave her a single nod, and she was almost sure she saw something flicker in his eyes that she couldn’t name.

Clint squeezed Martha’s hand in his as he guided her around the shack. “Just think,” Clint said, his voice full of enthusiasm. “This can be your home. We can make use of the old wood and replace those windows. We can build a kitchen that you can design yourself, one you can take pride in. And a bedroom for you—a place that really feels like it’s yours. This place could be everything you dreamed of.”

As he spoke, Martha felt her breath catch in her throat. She imagined herself in the bedroom Clint had described, only she wasn’t alone. The bedroom wasn’t just hers.

It was theirs.

The idea of it made her heart swell with emotion, and when she looked at Clint, she was certain he was imagining the same thing.

The two of them together in the bedroom of this little shack.

It just felt so right, though why exactly was hard to put into words.

Whatever the reason, Martha couldn’t deny that she liked the idea of having a space all their own.

Martha smiled, and a spark of hope glimmered in her eyes. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt strong, as if she could create something beautiful here.

Martha was so glad Clint had agreed to come with her to view the property. When she’d been teetering on a cliff of self-doubt, he’d pulled her back from the edge. His unwavering faith that they could make this work had given her the strength to defy her demons and keep marching along this fresh path.

She knew then that no matter what happened with this project, she would never forget this moment and all that had led up to it—from the moment Clint stepped into the realtor’s office with a warm smile on his face, offering her his help, to the present moment where he was standing beside her, hand in hand, encouraging her every step of the way.