A Sweet Silverpine Winter by Rachel Matthews

Author:Rachel Matthews
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: RavenFire Books
Published: 2023-12-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

As morning light in Silverpine trickled through the veil of dawn, the air carried the refreshing scent of pine and snow as if to tease the announcement of the winter festival that loomed just hours away. Taylor awoke uncharacteristically early, even beating Graham to the new day. She was glad. The early morning felt like an unclaimed sanctuary, a pocket of stillness just for her. And boy, did she need it. After all, it was high time she shifted from words of gratitude to actions that spoke volumes.

Taylor disentangled herself from the comforting embrace of her warm blankets and stretched, eager to drink in every moment of her waning vacation days in Colorado. She washed her face and tamed her rebellious thick curls into a defining style. Then she swapped her nightwear for day clothes—all before a rooster could even think of crowing. Padding into the kitchen on quiet feet, she paused. Her eyes roamed around the area, picturing Graham’s bachelor mornings—solitary breakfasts and coffee brewed for one in a cabin filled with the silence of solitude.

Her hands moved on autopilot, setting up the coffee maker. The fragrance of freshly brewed coffee soon waltzed with the smoky aroma of the fireplace. Once she poured herself a cup, she wrapped her hands around the mug, reveling in the earthy flavor. The sun was beginning to rise over the snowy landscape, soon dazzling the soft hills and tall pine trees in a sparkle. She wanted to enjoy every minute. As she slipped on her boots and meandered outside, she cradled her breakfast between her hands.

She headed toward Graham’s workshop, a sanctuary of shavings and art a few yards from his cabin. Inside, she went right for the light, washing the small confinement in a low ambient yellow glow. Amid its creative chaos of tools and unfinished projects, she reached for the tool in front of the workbench where her fledgling project sat—the unfinished cutting board. She picked up her carving tools and began to carve delicate patterns into the wood, sculpting the main shape of the board. Graham’s lessons lingered in her mind as she worked.

Let the tools do their thing.

Lost in her work, she immersed herself in the rhythmic dance of her hands and the gentle scrape of the tools against the surface. To accompany her solitude, she brought up her recent order: the audiobook version of “The Art of Living Simply“—Graham’s recommendation upon her arrival. The narrator’s words flowed through her earbuds like a calming stream winding its way into her thoughts. Yet, in their quiet wisdom, she found herself yearning for the raw, unspoken dialogues of her own mind. She pondered Graham’s complex feelings, his confession, and simultaneous withdrawal, all adding layers of minor chords to her emotional symphony.

Pausing, she surveyed the unfinished board—was it a metaphor for their own unresolved tension? Tonight was the winter festival, an event not to be missed, or so Nancy kept saying. Nancy herself, Hannah, and perhaps even the ominous Maggie would be there, waiting.

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