Page 52 of Chasing Liberty
Liberty couldn’t believe her eyes. “Wyler, did you do this?” Flamed torches lit the entire front of the cabin and stringed twinkling lights were strung across the railing of the porch. It looked like a home out of a magazine
“I might have had some help.”
The cabin’s logs were weathered, a testament to the marks of years that had passed. Moss and ivy clung to the exterior, and the red tin roof added a touch of modern to the rustic nature.
“It’s lovely.”
“You want to see inside?” he asked.
A narrow path, lit by more solar lighting, led to the door—a handmade arched door carved with designs and a half-moon shaped window. Two white rockers lined the small porch that were inviting—for another day.
He opened the door, and she stepped inside behind him, in awe at the warmth and coziness of the space. “It’s beautiful.”
“It just needed a facelift. It has solid bones.”
The stone hearth of the fireplace rose like a stately throne all the way to the beamed ceiling where more twinkling lights were wrapped. Two antique chandeliers, one above the table and another in the living room, had crystal teardrops that reflected the lighting.
He started a fire that cast a golden glow of dancing shadows on the walls, while she continued to admire the cottage and how it had all come together.
A sofa and two chairs were simple, yet sturdy. Her favorite was a hand-crafted round table and chairs that sat near a row of windows that overlooked the river. A soft fur rug took up most of the floor space.
The cabin seemed to hum with a gentle energy.
“There are two bedrooms,” Wyler said. “One for the baby’s room, and the master. There’s only one bathroom but I might add on another later.”
“You’ve really thought this through.”
“There’s something I want to show you.”
He led her down the short hallway. She caught the scent of jasmine before she got to the door that was left slightly ajar. Glowing light seeped from the crack. “What is this?”
“You have to see inside.”
She peeked in and couldn’t believe the trouble he’d gone to. The bathroom had been transformed into a romantic oasis.
Bathed in a soft, flickering glow from the flameless candles that lined every available shelf and counter, there was also soft music that played in the background, a melody of strings and piano that wrapped around the senses like a tender hug.
“I didn’t have vanilla, which is your favorite scent, so I had to choose between lavender or jasmine,” he said from where he stood in the open doorway. “I went with jasmine.”
“I’m in awe.”
She stepped across the room and found that the antique tub was full and rose petals floated on the surface. Their bright, crimson color appeared more vivid against the creamy foam. “I’m guessing you drew this bath for me?”
“I did. You’ll probably want to add some hot water.”
The vanity was adorned with a bouquet of fresh flowers and a metal ice bucket was flanked by crystal flutes.
“Since you can’t have wine, you have orange juice.”
“You’ve thought of everything, Wyler,” she stated softly.
“You’ve seemed stressed lately and working hard. I wanted you to know that I’m thinking of you.”
She stepped over to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a tight hug. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
He kissed her lips. “Every single minute.”
“Do I smell dinner from the kitchen?”