Page 4 of Words from the Heart
Chapter 3
Delilah rubbed the bridge of her nose as she stomped her way into the house. John was pleading with her, begging really. He was trying to convince her that he had only stepped out on her once, and of course that he would never do it again.
“John,” Delilah chose her words carefully, “once is the only opportunity you’re going to get to make a fool of me. I left the ring on the counter for a reason, and my key. Now move on. Go find your mistress and be content with the decision you made.”
“Please, Delilah, I love you.”
“Love?” Delilah laughed into the phone, “John, do you even know where I am right now?” His intake of breath and the silence that followed told her no, “See, you have no idea where I am, nor did you even stop to wonder why I was home in the middle of the day. All you’ve been worried about is yourself. Really, when I think about it, this was a blessing. We were on a path to self-destruction. Love is not what we had. It was… hell, I’m not sure what it was. But it’s over.”
“What about your stuff?” His demeanor changed instantly, forgotten was his plea for her to return.
“Burn it, sell it. I don’t care.”
“Aren’t you coming home?”
“You know…” Delilah looked around the house, taking in all the beauty it held, “I don’t think I am. I’ll text you my address so you can mail me my important things – like my passport and some small stuff. But I think I’m right where I need to be. I gotta go, John.” She didn’t wait for him to answer, pressing the end button and tossing her phone onto the kitchen counter. Although she should feel sad, she found herself feeling relief. Relief from a relationship that was holding her hostage. It had always been about his needs, not hers. Hell, John had even prevented her from writing – partly because deep down he knew she was a better writer. Maybe now, she could focus on her writing, Momma Belle had left her enough money to do whatever she wanted. Her decision made, she called her boss and informed him that she would not be returning. Delilah apologized for the abrupt notice, leaving him in a bind, but after explaining the situation he understood and thanked her for the work she’d done while there. After hanging up, she texted John the details of what to send and the address to send it to. Not wanting to hear his whiny plea again, she avoided calling him.
Delilah quickly moved around the house, inventorying what she would need to do first. She stepped out the back door and headed in the direction of the barn. It was a massive structure that sat on the south side of the house facing the creek. It used to house cattle, a goat, and her horse, Ed. She used to love riding him when she was a kid. As soon as she stepped inside the dust frame, she could hear him. He was huffing and stomping his hoof as though he knew she was there. When she approached his stall, he let out a whine and tossed his head.
“Hey there, boy.” She reached out, grabbing his harness, “How’s my fella doing?” Delilah stroked his head, running her fingers through his matted mane. “Wow, someone needs a hose down.” She unlatched the gate containing him and led him out. Pulling on the rope, she guided him outside to the side of the barn. She looped his rein around the post and patted his backside.
“Alright, you wait here while I get the soap.” Making a quick dash inside she grabbed the stuff to wash him down and pulled the hose around to where he was still waiting. “Good boy. You missed me, didn’t you?” after thirty minutes and a few disagreements with Ed, she’d managed to get his mane looking halfway decent. She walked him back to his stall, filled his trough and water bucket, before locking his gate once more. “Alright fella. Maybe tomorrow we can go out for a ride. I need to head into town and get a few things – carrots for you for sure.”
Pulling the heavy doors shut, Delilah felt a pang of sadness hit her square in the chest. Her grandmother had loved the cows and having a farm – but age had stolen that from her. If only she’d stayed here, maybe she’d be alive. Glancing towards the setting sun, she hurried inside and grabbed her things. She slipped the keys to Momma Belles truck off the pegs by the door and hurried outside. Momma Belle loved her old truck. It was a 1965 Ford Truck that was the ugliest shade of green possible. Delilah smiled from the memory of arguing with her about it being a shade of puke. She had insisted it was avocado green, but Delilah, even at the age of six insisted it was puke green.
Delilah slipped behind the wheel and turned over the key. The engine roared to life, sounding as though it was a brand-new machine. Putting it into reverse, she whipped it around and turned in the direction of town. Even though St. Florian was like something out of another time, just a few miles down a county road and she’d be in Florence. She pulled out of the gravel drive, turning right, so she could take the scenic route to town. The need for nostalgia outweighed the urgency to get anywhere. She hadn’t gotten very far when she noticed the truck dragging on the rear driver side. Being on a county road usually meant there was very little shoulder to pull off onto, but she navigated it into the grass, and put it in park. Immediately she knew the issue. Her tire had gone flat and upon further inspection she saw a shiny roofing nail poking out from between the tread.
“Damn it!” she kicked the saggy rubber. Going to the bed of the truck she wasn’t completely surprised to see a flat spare. Momma Belle probably hadn’t checked the tire in ages.
“Shit.” Delilah glanced around her surroundings. She was in the middle of nowhere. She thought about calling 911, but then remembered she had Parkers card in her pocket. Pulling it out she dialed his number, she just hoped he’d answer.
“Masters,” his voice was deep and resonated right down her spine, blinking she remember she hadn’t spoken yet.
“Um, Parker?” she asked hesitantly.
“Delilah?”
“Yeah – look I’m sorry to call you but I’m kinda stuck.”
“What do you mean stuck,” a loud noise echoed in the background, “shit, hold on a second.” She could hear the muffled sound of him talking to someone, “Sorry, I’m at work. What were you saying?”
“Well, it seems I picked up a roofing nail in Isabelle’s truck… and now I’m stranded on the side of the County road 94.”
“Damn, I thought I got all the nails up – this is my fault. Sit tight, I’ll come pick you up.”
“Wait, aren’t you at work? You can just call me a wrecker or something. I just don’t have any numbers. I guess I could just call 911.”
“They’d just call me. Hang tight, I’m about ten minutes from you.” Parker disconnected the call before she could argue with him.
What the hell did he mean they’d just send him? Delilah was confused, but ten minutes later a sheriff’s deputy pulled up in a marked SUV, and the most gorgeous man stepped out the driver’s seat.
“Delilah?” Parker called out as he approached her and the truck. She thought he looked good shirtless, but her ovaries were singing a hallelujah song as he sauntered towards her in his uniform. Her words were lost, and she was pretty sure she was drooling as he stopped just inches from her body. “You ok?”
Snapping from her lust haze, “Yeah – just shocked to see you like this. You’re a deputy?”
“Yes ma’am. Deputy Masters at your service.” His smile had her clenching her legs together. Jesus Christ, she shouldn’t be lusting after a man like this. The timing was so very wrong.
“Thanks… I think.”
