Stormy Surrender - By Nicole Andrews Moore Page 0,87

bathroom is a three quarter bath. And the kitchen is fully functional. You can move in.” He stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. “What do you think?”

“Will you come, too?” She turned and smiled up at him. “It’s not like you have any other offers. And have you even made any progress on your house?”

They walked back out to the porch. She was silent as they stared across the road at his home, which looked even more destroyed by the light of day than it had while still ablaze that night. He looked down over the porch railing for a moment.

“You told me that you didn’t want me to be your rebound, that you wanted more from me.” He laced his fingers as he leaned on the railing. “And honestly, a week ago, I would have told you there was nothing left for me to give. I was empty.” He was quiet and Marti patiently waited.

“While I worked to heal you, you have healed me, too. You asked if I would come live with you. I know we’re talking temporary, but before I can even do that…will you help me with something?” She could feel that he was watching her for a response.

“Sure. Anything. You spoil me.” She smiled at him affectionately. And while she really wanted to kiss him, to wrap an arm around his neck and hold on tightly, she felt his need for space.

“Good. Come on then.” He grabbed her hand and half dragged her behind him because he was walking so fast. Still, she remained silent as she waited for him to explain. They walked right in the front door, down the hall, and straight to his bedroom closet. There he reached up and grabbed a huge old shoe box. It was covered with a thick layer of dust.

Holding it in both hands, he nodded for her to follow him. And soon enough they were once again near that fire pit. He looked up at the window next door. Sure enough, the curtain was pulled back. “It’s just us, Miss Gracie,” he called. “No need to report this.” When the curtain fell back across the window, he started to talk once more.

“There was a girl I loved. Maybe I only thought I loved her. What I know for sure is that she very nearly ruined me. And all the years of my father lecturing me about the dangers of love and me ignoring him and thinking him to be a cynical old man caught up to me. She was young. She wanted to try new things. And while I loved her sense of adventure, it turned out badly. She ended up hooked on drugs. She sold my possessions out from under me. She ruined my credit. I could go on and on. All I ever wanted was to save her, to rescue her so we could live this future I imagined for us. When it seemed like I was out of options, I ran away. My father had left me this house. I just…left. I thought it was a sign.” He shrugged. “Maybe I should stop looking for signs and start making my own luck. Starting today. Be with me. Stay here while I start to burn all of these memories of a sad past.”

“So, we’re having a cleansing ceremony. I think that’s smart.” She held the box while he started the fire. As he worked diligently to create a big enough flame to ignite his past and destroy any remnant of that low point in his life, Marti simply stood there, willing him to feel the support she offered.

Slowly he began to feed the fire with pictures, scraps of notes, ticket stubs, and even a calendar. He added bit by bit, watching the flames lick at whatever he fed them, until they completely consumed that portion of a life he once lived.

“Now what?” She asked, glad to have helped.

“We should get cleaned up. We should take a nap. We should talk and start making happy memories.” He looked at her for a reaction. “What do you think of that idea?”

“Sounds perfect.” She sighed happily. “So, we’re going back to Hope House?”

“No. We’re going back to your house,” he said.

“But my house doesn’t have any furniture…” she protested.

He took her by the hand and walked her to the front yard. The eighteen wheeler was parked in front of her house. The POD was in the driveway. And the guys were unloading all of