Millie
‘Welcome to Whisper Valley! Population: 25,000,’ reads the sign greeting me as I drive across the town's borders and breathe in that fresh mountain air. Just being on this side of that sign makes my soul sing and a broad smile creeps across my lips. I’m home.
Home. I like the sound of that. I like what the word means as it bounces around in my head and inside my heart. Because while Whisper Valley is new to me, I have great plans to make this place my forever home. I feel sure as the aim of the dart I threw at the map to find this place, that it’s where I belong. Destiny demands it!
Not that everyone in my life has been in agreement, though. When I announced to my family that I was making this move, both my mom and brother thought I was crazy. Heck, even I thought I might be crazy once I started selling off my worldly possessions for a chance to start again. But in my heart, I knew I needed a change of pace as well as a change of location.
Being stuck in the same lakeside town I grew up in had me feeling artistically uninspired. I was a hair's breadth away from hitting my first ever artist’s block. As much as I love my hometown of Kismet Cove, the picturesque Lovers’ Lake just wasn't doing it for me anymore. So, when I came across an advert about a run-down cabin in the mountains surrounding Whisper Valley for relatively cheap, I took it as a sign. Just the idea of being surrounded by picturesque forest has my creativity sparking again.
I got in touch with the agent right away! Now it’s mine, and my mind is simply bursting with inspiration. Not only for my business, but also the cabin itself. I’m going to document this entire renovation for my followers online.
Slowing down my little trailer—my temporary home while I renovate—I take a deep breath of the clean air and enjoy the views around me. A quick glance at Google had already endeared this town to me, but seeing it in real life is really something else. The buildings are classic but well kept, and you can really tell how much the town planners cared about aesthetics. Little wooden benches line the pavements of the main street, and all their hedges and trees are trimmed and pruned.
"I can't believe a town like this even exists!" I exclaim in wonder as I drive past the absolutely gorgeous Town Hall building. My creative brain immediately runs amok with a million and one ideas and my heart inflates at the prospects of my future here. I’ll never lack inspiration again!
Stopping to pick up a few things from the grocery store, I gush about how great this place is to any local who’ll listen. Then I treat myself to a delicious lemon curd cupcake at the local bakery, delightfully named, Baked With Heart, and get back on the road. Another wave of excitement flows from the top of my head down to my toes as I pass a little establishment called Valentine’s Bar & Grill, and spot the dirt road leading to my new home.
As the daughter of the City Manager back in Kismet Cove, I’ve been fortunate enough to live what many would call a life of privilege. And while I’ve been camping enough times to know how to pitch a tent and start a fire on my own, I’ve never really been outside my comfort zone the way I am right now. And as my trailer gets swallowed up by the forest, and I feel like I’m being transported to another realm, I know this move is exactly what I need.
"You have arrived at your destination," the faux-cheerful voice of my navigator announces suddenly.
“What?” Confusion fills me as I hit the brakes and scrunch up my face. “Where?”
Spotting two lines of gravel that I assume is my driveway, I turn off the dirt road and find myself in an overgrown clearing in front of what looks like the cabin that time forgot. I turn off the engine to the camper and get out, my feet making a thud sound as they hit dirt and create a small cloud. I already need a shower.
“Hmm. This is not what I paid for,” I mutter to myself as I pull out my phone and take a look at the photos on the listing, comparing them to the view in front of me. “How long ago were these even taken?”
If I squint and turn my head a little, I can see that it’s the same cabin in the photos. But this cabin is definitely a lot more overgrown and dilapidated in real life than expected. I expected that I’d need to make a handful of repairs, undertake a bit of a cleanup, a lick of paint, and that would be that. But this….
I pick my way through the brush around the cabin and create a mental list of renovations the cabin needs. Rot reigns supreme wherever wood stands or lays, and vines crawl up and penetrate wherever they can. The gardens are a mangled mess, and the grass is about the height of my knees, especially around the back of the cabin.
Coming back around to the front, I don’t even dare try to get inside for fear of falling through the porch. “Well.” I sigh as I place my hands on the curves of my hips and take one more look at the state of the place. "This place definitely needs a lot of TLC, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I love a challenge, and this is going to make great content."
With a positive spin on things and a determined nod, I tie up my medium-length blonde hair and make my way back to my little trailer. I’ll need to do a lot of planning and research before I make a list of all the things I’ll need to buy from the hardware store in town. But as my knowledge and my list grows and grows, so does my excitement to get to work.
And as I take a few ‘before’ shots to share with my followers, I spot a tiny patch of yellow wildflowers peeking out from beneath the crumbling porch, cheery despite their less than ideal surroundings. That’s when I know for sure that this is exactly the way things are meant to be. The cabin may have turned out a lot worse for wear than expected, but that's OK, I can be like those flowers, bright, sunny, and cheery as I radiate beauty and work to improve the place I’m in just by being me. When I’m finished with it, this cabin is going to be my home. I can’t wait to get started.
Dylan
Sweat runs down the back of my neck as the muscles on my arms flex then release while I swing my axe, splitting the final wedge of wood with a grunt. I hit it perfectly down the middle, and the two halves fall onto the forest floor with a satisfying thud. I smirk to myself at the sound, surveying the completed pile of chopped wood as I wipe the sweat from my brow with my red, checkered shirt—pulled from the back pocket of my Levis, of course.
Yes, I'm a living, breathing mountain-man cliché. I chop wood without a shirt on and stay away from civilization as much as possible. Plus, I hunt, forage, and gather almost everything I need to survive out here on my own, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Socializing is overrated. While I don’t mind spending a little time with family every now and then, the rest of the human race can go and take a long walk off a short pier. I’ve got no time for them.
Picking up the pile of wood and making my way back inside my cabin, I stumble slightly as an old wound rears its ugly head and forces me to limp for a few steps. I grunt my dissatisfaction, hating that this one event from my past likes to consistently remind me of my biggest failure whenever I stand or sit in one position too long. All I want to do is forget…
Rnnnnnnnnnngggggg!
"What the…" The roar of a chainsaw starting then stalling snaps me back to the present. I dump the wood next to my stove as I cock my head to listen before the sounds of the chainsaw start again.
What the actual fuck?
Forgetting all about the pain in my leg, I go outside and grab my axe, half-jogging toward the sound while internally preparing myself for a potential confrontation. Illegal loggers haven't been around these parts for quite some time, and it pisses me off that they'd even dare pull that stunt with me again. My brothers and I made it more than clear their trifling ways weren’t welcome around here.
Weaving my way through the brush, I slow my pace as I get closer to the sound, stopping before I step onto the adjoining property when understanding dawns. Shit. They’re here already…
The last time I was in town gathering supplies, I was told the land next to mine had been sold, but I’d hoped I’d have a little more time before my new neighbors turned up and started tearing down the old, dilapidated cabin in favor of whatever monstrosity they had planned. I could now kiss my quiet lifestyle goodbye with the crunch and whir of machinery, taking over the gentle song of numerous birds and the chirping of crickets. The idea of it has me feeling cranky already. “Fuck.”
Dragging an annoyed hand across my beard, I keep to the tree line as I try to gauge my new neighbor’s plans. There’s a trailer set up to the side with a foldout chair and firepit sitting just outside it, which means whoever it is plans to stay onsite while the work is getting done. And then there’s a pile of lumber and tools that seem to have been dumped haphazardly on the ground. Does this guy even know what he’s doing?
The grating whir of the chainsaw assaults my ears, along with the chopping mulch of tree clippings flying off all over the place, revealing my new neighbor to the side of the broken cabin. The moment I take in the sight, I stop in my tracks, my jaw nearly dropping hard to the ground.
This new neighbor of mine is no guy. This here's a woman wielding a chainsaw that’s almost the same size as her, trying to hack at the overgrown bushes of the property and failing, because it seems the chainsaw is controlling her more than she’s controlling it. The teeth hit against the thicker part of a bush, and suddenly the whole damn thing is ricocheting over her shoulder and carving into the dirt. She’s going to get herself killed!
“God, dammit!” she grunts, trying to restart the stalled machine while it’s still wedged in the ground. I can’t take this anymore.
"Are you crazy or just incredibly naïve, lady?" I demand as I make my way toward her in a fit of indignation and protectiveness.
Straightening her back with a gasp, she shoves her blonde hair out of her face then turns in my direction, her hand flying to her heart as she steps back and frowns. "Are you talking to me?"
“Of course I am. You see anyone else around here tryin’ to kill themselves with a giant twenty-pound chainsaw?”
Her mouth falls open. “I…I’m not. I’m just trying to clear away the brush so I can work on my cabin.”
“With a chainsaw that’s ten pounds too big for you?”
“I…” She looks to the chainsaw, then back to me before she holds her gloved hands out to the side. “What else am I supposed to use? This is what the guy in the shop sold me.”
"For this?” I gesture to the brush she’s been cutting. “A hedge trimmer," I start. "Or if you must use a chainsaw, get one that’s sized properly for a woman your height and find out how to use it before you go hacking shit up. I’m surprised you didn’t cut your feet off just now! Who sold this to you, anyway?"
“Marvin,” she replies, her tongue sweeping out to lick her lips as she pulls up her sunglasses and sits them on top of her blonde head. “He’s the guy at the hardware store in town. Said this was the best money could buy.” When she swivels her forest green gaze to meet mine, her eyes seem to pierce right through me—into me. It’s the strangest feeling. My body reacts instantly, and my dick stiffens in my jeans, my mouth suddenly starting to water from wanting her.
A hunger bubbles up within my core, and I’m plagued with the words ‘soul’ and ‘wink’ floating around in my mind. What the hell?
Closing my eyes, I shake my head, physically forcing the emotions and feelings away from me. My cousin’s wife, Jade, has a theory that all the Valentine men in Whisper Valley experience a phenomenon called a ‘soulwink’. In her words, it’s when you find your soulmate and your souls ‘wink’ at each other in recognition. I’m not sure if I believe in the story she’s peddling, but once she arrived in town talking about soulwinks and soulmates, all four of my cousins fell in love and got married one after the other like a set of dominoes. Now that the last of my four cousins is coupled up, all eyes have turned toward my side of the family. Jade even went so far as to suggest that I’m next. But since I’m as ornery as they come, I pushed her suggestion to the side because really, who’d want me? I’m a total hermit. But now that I’m reacting to a gorgeous woman with eyes almost as green as mine, I’m suddenly wondering if maybe this is it. Maybe that soulwink theory is right?
But as fast as the thought enters my mind, I shut it down for its foolishness. There’s no such thing as magic. With a history like mine, I’m the first to admit that. Soulwinks aren’t real. Hell, I’d even wager that soulmates aren’t real either.
Back when I was a rookie cop, I was called out to enough domestic disturbances to know that love can turn sour in the blink of an eye. People get together and they make it work, or they don’t. For a man like me, a man who prefers to be alone and hidden away from the world, I’ve entirely given up on the idea of having a relationship that works. And because of that, I think my intense reaction to this curvy blonde is due to my being on my own for so long—no soulwinks here.
“Well, the next time I’m in town, I’m gonna have a short chat with Marvin. He should’ve known better than to sell you this.”
“Did I get swindled?” She furrows a brow and looks over her shoulder at the pile of renovation supplies.
“Perhaps,” I say, following her gaze. “Did he ask you if you were left or right-handed when he sold you that hammer?” I point to where it rests on top of the lumber.
“Yeah. Did I get the wrong kind?”
A low growl emanates out of my chest as I pinch at the bridge of my nose. “I’m gonna kick his ass.”
“Oh no! Don’t do that. He was so helpful to me. I don’t wanna see him hurt.”
“Lady, that man was not being nice. There’s no such thing as a left or right-handed hammer. There are just hammers. He did you wrong.”
“I see,” she says with a sigh. “Well, I suppose there’s not a lot I can do about that now. And since I don’t want to waste an entire day of work arguing over pennies, I think I’ll just keep going and sort this out with Marvin in the morning. Have you tried the cupcakes from the bakery in town? They are divine. I’ll get some extra for you as a thank you for pointing out Marvin’s cheeky move.”
“Cheeky? The man swindled you.”
She shrugs. “It’s to be expected. People look at me and they don’t see brains, ah…I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name.”
“Dylan,” I grunt.
“Well, nice to meet you, Dylan,” she says with a smile. “I’m Millie. And as I was saying, people don’t see brains, they see my smile and mistake my happiness for a lack of intelligence. So, this actually happens a lot. Which I guess means that they might be right. But I don’t think they are. I’m not dumb. I’m just trusting.”
“Sweet baby Jesus,” I mutter, envisioning every shady character in Whisper Valley and its surroundings coming to line up and take advantage of this trusting personality of hers. Hell, why is she even standing here talking to me when I literally stepped out of the forest to chastise her? “Are you livin’ here alone?”
“Yep!” She grins and hefts the chainsaw up with two hands. I groan inwardly. “What about you?”
“I live on the lot next door to you.”
“OK. So we’re neighbors. Cool!” It’s then that she pulls the ripcord on the chainsaw and it starts up again with a loud whir. I’m in a state of freaking out and trying to figure out how I’m going to take it from her without hurting either one of us when her eyes widen in surprise and she falls backward, flat on her ass, while fortunately the chainsaw drops in front of her. It immediately starts to spin out of control.
"Shit. Get back!" I curse under my breath and jump forward, scooping her up before it gets too close and swiftly get us both out of the way.
“Whoa. I think you might be right about that chainsaw. It’s way too big and heavy.”
My nose picks up her scent from her close proximity. Something floral and heady. It takes every ounce of control to stop my body from reacting to her and the jolt of electricity that sparked as soon as I felt her in my arms. I’m more lonely than I thought…
“Promise me you won’t try to use it again,” I grumble, setting her down as far away from the crazy chainsaw as possible. “Not until we get you one that’s the right size.”
“OK,” she whispers, her hands slowly sliding away from my shoulders as her feet touch the ground and I step away, needing as much distance between us as possible. “Thank you, Dylan.”
I grunt in response, grabbing a piece of lumber and using that to safely turn the blasted chainsaw off.
As I pick it up with one hand and turn back to her, I immediately spot her bottom lip trembling, her eyes teary. "You cryin’ now?"
“No,” she forces out, her voice audibly tight as she shakes her head. “I just…I thought I could do this. And the very first chance I had, I messed it all up. My mom is gonna have a field day when she finds out. She was so against me coming—”
“You’re a grown-ass woman, aren’t ya?” I rumble. She nods, and my heart threatens to melt at the pouty sight of her. Why do I want to scoop her up and carry her away caveman style so badly? “Then it doesn’t matter what your momma thinks.”
“I just want to do a good job,” she whispers, rolling her lips. “I want to make this place even better than it once was.”
“On your own?” I look from her to the barely standing cabin to my left.
“Well, yeah. Girl boss babe and all that,” she says with a sniffle and a chuckle. I have no idea what a girl boss babe is, but I do know that a curvy little inexperienced thing like her shouldn’t be trying to take on a huge project without any help.
“You need help.”
“Help is out of my budget. But I’ll be OK. I promise.” She flashes me another smile and I shake my head, a tight feeling in my gut screaming at me that I can’t walk away from this. From her…
“No. You’ll need help.”
“Dyl—”
“I’ll help you,” I say, watching and loving the way her mouth pops open and forms an O. “Give me the rest of today to sort this shit out with Marvin, then I’ll get to work on this mess with you in the morning. Does that work?”
“Ah…sure,” she says. “Thanks, Dylan. That’s so kind and neighborly of you.”
She smiles brightly, and dammit, but it makes my body light up. To quell the longing ache I seem to have around her, I pull my face into a scowl. “Not neighborly. I just can’t trust you not to kill yourself with this thing,” I grunt, lifting the chainsaw I’m still holding in my hand. “I’m protectin’ my own conscience.”
“OK. Well, I still appreciate it.”
“Suit yourself, sunshine. I’m takin’ this with me, by the way.” I gesture with the chainsaw again. “I can’t trust turnin’ my back on you while it’s here.”
“I understand. You’re a good man, Dylan.”
I look at her with a quirked brow. “You have no idea,” I say before I disappear back into the tree line from where I came, muttering to myself the whole way home.
I've spent God-knows how long keeping to myself and being perfectly happy that way. I sure as hell don’t need a tiny, curvy blonde—who seems to be a pocket full of trouble—to turn that on its head. I’ll help her clear the land and do a little heavy lifting, and then that’s it. She can live her bubbly, sunshiny life, and I can go back to my quiet one. Alone. In solitude. Just the way I like it.
