Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 113617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“I figured.”
“Bowie?”
“Right here.”
“Sam phoned Mary. She wants to sit down and talk.”
Fuck.
Chapter 12
The Fire
Imogen
* * *
I stood, watching Duncan crouched before his gigantic fireplace in his great room, building a fire.
And I did it admitting I was a mess.
Because we’d scaled the mountain that was the heartache of our end.
But I’d come to realize what lay ahead was not a downward climb into a sunshine covered, lush, verdant valley of the promise of halcyon days.
It was another range of mountains we had to traverse.
Perhaps not as high.
But they were there.
Earlier, on the porch, after my announcement about Samantha, Duncan had freed his dogs while declaring, “I get it’s gonna be on your mind, but how ’bout we make the rest of today a Corey’s-bullshit free zone? We got plenty of time to worry about it tomorrow.”
And having lived Corey’s bullshit for what amounted to most of my life, I’d fallen on that suggestion like a woman overboard falls on a lifeboat.
Once I did, Duncan took me to visit his horses.
He then took me to see his very large, sophisticated, and protected “because of the kai-oats” chicken coop that offered a big area for them to range. A coop where he told me he housed thirty-five chickens “and me or Bettina collect the eggs, but it’s Bettina who takes them to the shelter so they can make use of them.”
After that, he took me to the surprisingly big patch of tilled, now fallow (since it was autumn) land where, “Me and Sul dink around. Use the horse dung. The chicken guano. A mixture of both. Household and land refuse we compost, shit like that, literally, to see what works the best. We had the same at the old house, and Dora keeps it for him, ’cause Sully’s into it.”
“And Gage?”
A grin and, “Not so much.”
We then walked to the lake and he gave me a sense of how much was his land, and he did this with Killer curled in his arm (who was far from a killer, she was a snuggle puss), the other arm outstretched to point to landmarks of what was his.
Throughout all this, Shasta and Rocco were darting about, and it was cool to see how Rocco kept up with Shasta with absolutely no difficulty, even if he had one less leg.
However, Duncan warned me, “He gets tired quicker. He goes full-out with a quarter less capacity to carry the load. We keep our eyes on that.”
And then my head was full of thoughts of how sweet it was he knew his dogs so well and took care of them.
Then he guided me back inside and gave me a proper tour of the house.
I already knew that my first assessment of it was perhaps unkind, but not incorrect.
Every inch of it, and there were a great number of them, with massive rooms and wide hallways (which also evidenced the overall theme, men tended to like to spread out and stake their claim), was decidedly masculine.
But it was in a way that was attractive, interesting, but most of all warm and inviting.
And the master, which Chloe did not show me (she’d only showed me her fantastic space upstairs), was a revelation.
A massive room with a big bed facing a huge arched window that started at the floor and provided an unobstructed view of the lake. That wall was covered in stone, the rest in rough wood planks. A comfy seating area sat before it. Two huge, well designed, walk-in closets, side by side, his and hers, even if there wasn’t a “her.” And I thought Duncan was smart to do that for resale value or if he left it to one of his boys, who would eventually have a partner.
There was also a not small, but not ostentatious terrace off to one side, and rounding out the interior, a fireplace on the wall next to the bed.
All this was incredible.
But the master bath was insane.
Three-side windowed shower smack in the middle of the room with the fourth wall made of stone. Floors an interesting mix of river rock and slate, the rock fashioned to make it look like a river was guiding you to the door of the shower. Rough-hewn planks on the walls, the same as the bedroom.
Amazing lighting, including what I considered the pièce de résistance, but a surprising one for Duncan to choose. A large, circular, free-standing soaking tub nestled under a window. So you could soak and look out at that view. The tub had a tri-globe falling chandelier in the corner next to it that wasn’t exactly feminine, but it was gorgeous.
When we toured the master space, I knew I wanted to lie in that bed with a cup of tea and a book so I could look up at the view occasionally, and I wanted to soak in that tub and just take in that view.