The agent cleared her throat, and I focused my attention on her. “I’ll take it,” I said.
“Wait, what?” Arabella took me by the arm and pulled me farther away from the agent. “Why would you rent this place, Abby? He said he should have kissed you! He invited you to spend Thanksgiving with him.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s going to open up his heart and ask me to move right in, Arabella. Besides, I think we need to do this slowly…if there’s going to be a this at all.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Ugh. I guess you’re right. I was getting ahead of myself there.”
Smiling, I pulled her to me for another quick hug. “Thank you for coming with me today and being such an amazing friend.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
I drew in a deep breath as I juggled fresh flowers, cranberry sauce, and a dish of sweet potato soufflé while standing in front of Bishop’s door. I was trying to hit the doorbell with my hip when the door opened.
Bishop stood there with a crooked smile on his face, and butterflies danced wildly in my stomach.
“You always did try to make it in the least number of trips,” he said, reaching out to take something.
I let out a nervous laugh and handed him the sweet potatoes. “I’ve also got green bean casserole in the car and some homemade rolls my mom made for you. She knows how much you like them.”
His eyes darted to my car while he took the flowers from me as well. I followed him through the house and into the large gourmet kitchen. I was still so surprised that Bishop hadn’t changed a single thing since I’d left. The same furniture and rustic décor was in the house. I had almost forgotten how much I loved this place. The exposed wood and all of the river rock that had been built into the house made it feel so warm and inviting.
Once we were in the kitchen, I took it all in. It had always been one of my favorite rooms. The stove was against the wall and surrounded by rustic brick. Dark wood cabinets covered one side of the kitchen, with an oversized white island that broke up all the dark features. Large wood beams stood on either side of the island, holding up the loft that overlooked the great room. The open space itself looked over the great room on one side and the breakfast room on the other.
“You put these in water,” Bishop said. “I’ll go grab the rest of the stuff. Front seat or back?”
“Back. Where are the vases?”
As he headed back out, he said, “Same place you left them.”
His tone wasn’t angry, just matter of fact. I took off my coat and turned to head into the butler’s pantry off the kitchen. I veered and hung up my coat in the mudroom, then went back to the pantry. I opened the cabinet where I used to keep vases and, sure enough, they were all there.
Same place you left them.
An overwhelming sense of melancholy came over me, and I found myself fighting to hold back tears. Again. After a few deep breaths, I walked back into the kitchen and over to the sink in the middle of the island to fill up a vase.
“These rolls smell like heaven,” Bishop said when he appeared back in the kitchen. He set both dishes down, then walked over to the stove and stirred something.
I arranged the bouquet of flowers I had handpicked this morning in the greenhouse and turned to Bishop. “Where would you like these?”
He glanced at the flowers, then at me. “Do you want to eat in here or the formal dining room?”
I chewed on my lip. I’d never enjoyed sitting in the formal dining room. The breakfast nook off the kitchen was at the back of the house and had a wall of windows with a beautiful view. I’d always loved eating there. “How about in here?”
The corner of Bishop’s mouth twitched with a hidden smile. “Then we’ll eat in here.”
As I made my way to the table, I glanced to my right—and paused. I nearly dropped the vase of flowers when I saw what was outside the sliding doors that led to the back porch.
For years, I had begged Bishop to make me one of those wide sofa swings for the porch. The view of the trees and the mountains from the back of the house was one of the most beautiful spots on the farm, and the back porch had always been one of my favorite places to relax.
“Do you like it?” Bishop asked quietly, causing me to jump. It was then I noticed my hands were shaking.
“Let me take these,” he said, clearly noticing as well. He carefully placed the flowers in the middle of the table.
“It’s…it’s beautiful. The whole back porch is stunning.”
“Want to see it? We can step outside real quick.”
“I’d love to see it, yes.”
“Want your coat?” Bishop asked.
“No, I’m okay.”
He smiled and then walked over to the sliding doors. When he opened them, I stepped out and gasped. “The fireplace is gorgeous!” Nearly in the middle of the huge porch was a stunning rock fireplace.
I could see on his face that he was proud of it. “Thanks, I finished it this past summer.”
I took in everything. “Did you wall that part of the porch off?” I asked, nodding toward the side.
He slipped his hands into his jean pockets. “Yeah, I made a sleeping porch on the other side.”
I drew my brows in. “What’s a sleeping porch?”
“Just that. A place to sleep. I installed screens that you can lower. Do you remember that old white antique bed that was in my grandfather’s barn?”
I nodded.
“It’s on that side of the porch. That’s about all that’s out there though. Mom wanted to decorate the area but…” His voice trailed off. “I made the bed swing shortly after the divorce.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure why I did it.”
I walked over to it and ran my hand down one of the large ropes that held up the swing. “It’s lovely, Bishop.”
He nodded. “Maybe we can eat dessert back here. I’ll start a fire.”
“I’d like that.”
Bishop ran his fingers through his hair, and I fought the urge to reach out to him. “Let’s head back in before you get too cold,” he said.
All I could do was smile and nod as we made our way back into the house.
“Let me check on the turkey and the mashers,” Bishop said while I shut the door and followed him back into the kitchen.
“What do you want me to do?”
“If the rolls need heating, you can toss them in the other oven. I’ve already got it on warm.”
“I’ll put the soufflé in there as well. Is there room in the oven for the green beans? They’re still pretty warm though.”
Bishop laughed. “No room in this oven at all.”
After I put the rolls and soufflé in the warming oven, I looked at him. “What? That oven is huge, Bishop.”
He shrugged. “So is the thirty-pound turkey in there.”
My mouth fell open. “Thirty pounds? Who else is coming over?”
Sheepishly, he looked away as he answered. “No one. It was either that or a pork roast. I went with the turkey.”
This I need to see. Walking over to the oven, I opened it, brought my hand to my mouth, and then slammed the door as I tried not to laugh.