thirteen

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13|the english countryside

Dorothy White paced around her kitchen, cutting strawberries for her cake and stirring the soup on the stove. For the first time in a year she was expecting visitors.

A knock at the door startled her from her  pace as she dropped everything. She pulled the door to her cottage open, her steel grey eyes gleaming brightly as her favourite Englishman stood in her doorway.

"James." She beamed, welcoming him in. "It's so good to see you." She placed a kiss on his cheek before rushing into the kitchen. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

"You disappear off the face of the earth only to send me a letter a year after the island." Conrad sighed as he followed her into the kitchen. "We all thought you had died."

"I chose the peaceful life." Dorothy shrugged, dishing up two bowls of soup and placing them on the table beside the window.

"Weaver informed me you invited everyone else to visit tomorrow." He continued to question her, sitting down at the table across from her.

"I wanted to spend time with you." She smiled at him, digging into the fresh vegetable and chicken soup. "I'm sorry."

"This is very delicious." Conrad complimented her, watching as she avoided his eyes. "How have you been?"

"The nightmares won't stop." She said truthfully, pausing as she put her spoon down. "I can't sleep."

"It's only been a year." He reassured her, reaching across and holding her hand. "I was told you own all 50 acres of land."

"My grandmother left me this cottage and land when she passed away." Dorothy glanced out the window, past the flower garden and into the deep forest that covered most of the land. "I wanted to settle down somewhere away from the world. I work at the local doctors a couple days a week."

"Shall we go for a walk." Conrad offered, picking up the two empty bowls and putting them in the soapy sink. "Then eat cake?"

"Of course! I'll take you to the river. But this one doesn't have a ploat." She winked at him, taking off her frilly pink apron and a thin coat over her simple summer dress.

He offered her his arm, the pair walking closely together, arm in arm, admiring the wild terrain. Flowers grew all around, brightening up the dark forest. The sun seeped through the tree leaves, shining off the small river.

"I like fishing here." Dorothy informed him, turning to face him. She admired how his blue eyes glowed in the sunlight. "Thank you for coming."

"Anything for you." He cupped her cheek, the warmth of his hand hiding the blush forming on her cheeks.

"What have you been up to this past year?" She questioned him curiously, hoping he had not found someone.

"Truthfully?" At the nod of her head he sighed and caved. "Truthfully I've been looking for you. You legally changed your name."

"That was to hide from my ex-husband." Dorothy winced as she remembered the legal battle she went through. "He wanted a cut of my money I received on retirement. But I'm still plain, old Dorothy."

"Dorothy." He leaned down, unable to hold back as the woman he met on an unforgettable trip stood staring up at him with glimmering eyes.

Their lips met and the world seemed to stop. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close as she stood on her toes. He pulled her close, his arms around her waist lifting her up.

"Wow." She hummed as they pulled back, still holding each other close. "At least I can remember this one."

"The first time doesn't count. It was to save your life." Conrad rolled his eyes at her teasing, capturing her lips once more. "Now, I believe I was promised cake."

"Come on." She chuckled, grabbing his hand and pulling him back in the direction of her home. "Are you staying the night? I have a guest room that I set up for Mason."

"If it's not a problem." He smiled at her, opening the door as she walked into the house.

"So would you like a big slice?" She offered, glancing over her shoulder as he sat down at the table. "Extra strawberries and cream?"

"That's sounds delicious." He drooled, happily accepting the plate and devouring the strawberry and cream cake.

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑨𝑹𝒀 - James ConradWhere stories live. Discover now