Page 14 of By Your Side

Scott would’ve loved it here. He would’ve relished in the space and the quiet, the only sounds come from the nature surrounding me. He was always more adventurous than I am, but this time, I’m the one starting an adventure.

I loved Scott with all my heart, but I finally feel like I am living again. He will always have a piece of me, but each day that passes is another step away from feeling haunted by what was lost.

As a young widow, I feel like my husband’s death was a shadow that followed me around. I was no longer Adeline. They simply saw me as a widow who was living off her dead husband’s money. Somehow the community I lived in had become a prison. The people I thought would be there to support me never showed up.

The people I’ve met in the past month have been so welcoming. I can create a new community. A community that doesn’t see me solely as a widow but sees me as a person. A renovator. Someone more.

I allowed myself to fall into that title, but here I feel like I’ve finally burst free of it, the shadow of Scott’s death easing slightly as I find my footing in my new home.

I stand, turning to close the barn door, when a sound catches my attention.

“Mew.”

It’s quiet and gone before I can tell where it’s coming from.

“Mew.”

A little louder this time, the sound coming from inside the barn.

Turning, I see a pair of dark eyes peeking at me from a shadow in one of the horse stalls. As I turn, it bolts through a hole in the door to the tack room.

As quietly as I can, I open the door and peer into the dark room. The glass window is covered in a film, barely letting any light flow through. My eyes adjust and I can scan the room for the kitten.

Closing the door, I move a board to block the hole. It was a glimpse, but it looked like the kitten was limping.

Peering around me, I hear a hiss as I step toward the back corner. Crouching down, I see the kitten hunched in the corner, watching me. Its black fur is caked in dirt, the poor thing clearly malnourished.

There’s no evidence of any other cats, so I creep a little closer. It hisses at me but doesn’t try to run away.

Outside I hear the rumbling of Owen’s truck.

Going as slowly as I can, I get close enough to the kitten to reach out and grab it before it can run away. It hisses again but freezes instead of lashing out. The poor thing quakes, it’s little bones sharp against my hands.

“Adeline?” Owen calls, his voice closer to the barn than the house.

Cuddling the kitten close, I nudge the board out of the way and exit the tack room as Owen steps inside the barn, irritation written clear across his face.

“We were supposed to meet at the house five minutes ago.” Even cranky, his voice is sexy, the low timbre sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes drop to the kitten in my arms, his gaze softening a little.

“I’m sorry. This little guy distracted me.” Walking past Owen, I wait for him at the door, closing it behind us.

His sharpness shifts to surprise at how easily and quietly the door closes. Instead of saying anything, we head to the house in silence, the kitten settling into my arms.

It doesn’t take long to go through the contract despite the distraction of the furry creature now asleep on my lap. Owen outlines phases for the renovations, including things I hadn’t even thought of.

His timeline is fast but is missing critical ideas, like adding a bathroom to the primary suite and revamping the kitchen layout to be more functional for entertaining. As I outline my goals for the major changes around the house, his gaze clears of his usual guardedness and judgment.

“That’s a great idea, Adeline, and we can absolutely make that happen. All your goals for the house are completely doable.” He nods, flipping from the page he left for adjustments to come to the page with the quote. He makes a few notes and then turns the page to me. “The number is high, but I’ve factored in everything I will have to contract out.”

He waits as I look through the page. “This is less than I was expecting.”

Signing the page, I turn it back to him.

As he makes a few more notes, I can’t seem to move my eyes away. His short sleeves hug his biceps, the corded muscles moving as he writes. He’s big. His shoulders broad. Everything about him seems strong, right down to his scruff covered jaw.

Looking up, I meet his eyes. His face doesn’t change, but his eyes practically dance with laughter. Flushing, he totally busted me checking him out which is mortifying to begin with but add in the humor on his face and I’m pretty sure nothing could be more embarrassing.

Looking away, I stand up, forgetting the kitten is on my lap. He meows and digs his claws in, right on my crotch. “Well, if that’s it, I really should get this guy to the vet.” The words squeak out, adding to the moment.

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