17

“Come on, give me a hint. Where are we going?” She tugged at Dec’s arm as they sped toward West Village. He’d told her to dress comfortably, but with a touch of class, and that’s the only clue he provided, despite Raine’s persistent pleas.

He’d seemed determined to keep her occupied all day.

Earlier this afternoon, they’d toured the interior of Nitt Witt Ridge.

Raine’s reaction to Arthur Beal’s off-the-wall décor and unexpected uses of sundry items had wavered between amusement and something akin to sorrow. Despite all the years the determined gentleman had invested in his home, his living conditions upon completion remained primitive at best.

Dec had prepared her for the lack of a proper sewage system. Even now, when the house had stood empty for many years, a less-than-pleasant odor tainted the air.

Most of the roughly plastered interior walls had never been painted, and many lacked symmetry. Some of the floors canted to one side or another.

And yet Beal had displayed a certain barebones ingenuity at making use of found items, inside and out. Old toilet seats hung on the walls, promoted to the role of picture frames. In fact, bathroom fixtures and appliances must have been easily obtained, as Beal used them generously inside and out. Toilets and sinks, bathtubs, faucets…they became everything from planters to fence elements to yard décor. A number of large seashells found new life as ash trays, candy dishes, and decorative features on the facings of exterior steps. Open spaces topped with rods made of plumbing pipe or wood served as closets. Pipes of various lengths and diameters also came into play as handrails on the stairs.

From one room to another, Raine spotted surprisingly repurposed items. She said little as they walked through the place.

The tour guide filled the time with plenty of humor and an admirable knowledge of the home’s history, as well as its architect, builder, and owner—Arthur Harold Beal. He even played a couple of videos, including an interview with “Captain Nitwit” from many years past.

Raine enjoyed seeing the old guy’s face, hearing in his raspy, wheezy voice the depth of pride in what he’d accomplished. She also noted a keen, off-the-wall sense of humor. Perhaps that part of Beal’s multifaceted personality had prompted the odd, vaguely cartoonish home he’d created.

Once they were in Dec’s car and pulling away, Raine met his curious gaze, knowing he wanted her reaction.

“OK, yes, a part of me is in shock.” She hesitated, trying to formulate the right words. “But I’m glad I got to see inside, and I still think the old guy had more ‘stick-to-it-iveness’ than anyone else I’ve heard of. He knew what he wanted, and he made it happen, even though he didn’t have the wherewithal to do it on a grand scale. Not that I think things have to be done on a grand scale every time.” She hurried to make herself clear. “I don’t. But still…it’s a little sad, isn’t it? He worked so long and so hard toward his goal, and the result of all that labor elicits more ridicule than admiration.”

Dec nodded. “I agree…in many ways it is sad. But I always remind myself that not everyone marches to the same old drum. You know? I truly believe what you see at Nitt Witt Ridge—inside and out—is exactly what old Beal wanted. He had to have found many truly nice, usable items that would have been considered ‘normal’ to build into a home, right?” Dec didn’t wait for an answer. “He must have. People throw away a lot of good merchandise—things most of us wouldn’t hesitate to use. But for the most part, that’s not what Beal chose to bring home. He wanted the offbeat and unusual. He wanted different…and that’s what he got.”

Raine nodded. That summation kind of confirmed her suspicion that Beal’s sense of humor had been behind a lot of what made Nitt Witt Ridge a historical landmark and convinced the community to keep it standing long years after his death.

Dec took Raine’s hand in his. “I wouldn’t waste much time feeling sorry for Arthur Beal, if that’s what you’re doing. I think the old dude achieved exactly what he set out to do.”

Raine sat quietly for a moment, studying Dec’s handsome profile. Finally, a slow smile curved her lips. “How’d you get to be so smart, woodcarver? You can be pretty profound when you want to.”

Dec laughed. “I don’t know about profound. But I’ve given a lot of thought to that rickety old place and its owner over the years.”

“Well, I think you’re right on track.”

And now, after a stroll through the gardens at Cambria Oaks and enjoying a leisurely dinner at Maddy’s, they were on track to another location—one Dec refused to share.

Curiosity had Raine on tenterhooks. “Come on, Dec. You’ve been keeping it a secret all day. Will you really make me wait until we get there to know where we’re going?”

“Yep.” He flashed her a mischievous grin and a wink.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glowered.

Dec chuckled and tugged on a strand of her hair. “You look so cute when you pout.”

“Grrr!” She growled low in her throat and wrinkled her nose, hoping she looked fierce. “I don’t feel cute. I feel…ferocious!”

Now her escort howled, laughing hard and long. Finally, he quieted and shot her an amused glance. “Sounds like I’ve got a tiger by the tail. Who’da thunk?”

“Hmph!” She tried to shrivel his hearty merriment with a glare, but wound up laughing along with him.

Turning down a short, narrow street off Main, Dec parked in a small lot. “I almost hate to tell you—you’re so fun when you’re begging…but here we are.”

Raine looked around and frowned. In front of her was the back side of a relatively small building. Nothing to indicate where they were.

Dec helped her out of the car, still chuckling. “Come on, let’s go. I promise you’ll love this.”

She held his arm as they rounded the old wood-framed structure.

Dec turned her toward a large sign.

“Purple Panther Playhouse.” Raine shook her head. “What is this place? It sounds like a nightclub, Dec!”

“Hey! Would I make such a big deal about bringing you to a nightclub?” He gave her a frown and a disbelieving half-glare. “And you called me ‘profound’ not two hours ago. Come on, take another look.”

Puzzled, Raine studied the sign, and then allowed her gaze to travel across the front of the building, taking in the posters and other obvious clues. When she realized where they were, she gasped. “The community theatre? Dec, this is wonderful! I love stage performances.”

“I do too. But I think you’ll particularly enjoy this one.”

She hadn’t noticed what was currently playing, but as Dec held the door open and she passed into a small lobby, a large poster on an easel caught her eye. She tightened her grip on his arm. “No. Way.” She met his excited gaze with a shocked one of her own. “This is almost too much to believe.”

“Yeah, I agree. I called to reserve our tickets and nearly dropped the phone when they told me what was playing.”

They stopped at a ticket booth and Dec gave a confirmation number.

The young clerk smiled, pulled out a couple of tickets, and handed both stubs to Dec, who gave one to Raine.

She held the small square of printed cardstock between fingers that trembled slightly and read aloud the words printed on the front. “Butterflies Are Free.” She placed a hand on her chest, beneath which her heart pounded as if she’d run all the way into town. “God is crowning this whole beautiful vacation with a final, surreal confirmation. Dec…thank you so much!”

He pulled her close to his side and brushed his lips against hers in a barely there kiss. “Hey, I just wanted to bring you to the Purple Panther. God arranged what was playing. My reaction was pretty much the same as yours.”

“Well, I think it’s amazing and so sweet, how relentlessly God pursues us. I mean, seriously…can you believe He still had one more butterfly message lined up to boggle my mind?”

“Yes, ma’am, I sure can. We have an amazing, unbelievable, unsurpassable, insurmountable heavenly Father.” He spouted off the string of adjectives, then smiled and pulled Raine through a door and down a narrow aisle, where he ushered her into their designated row. “Why is it so easy for us to forget that He’s there, and He cares?” A low whisper followed, close against Raine’s ear. “He wants you to fly free, honey. Don’t you think?”

Then before she could find a response, he switched subjects.

“Wait right here. I’m going for popcorn and sodas…and then we’ll see what tonight’s ‘message’ is all about.” He walked away.

Raine’s heart was full…and she hadn’t yet even seen the play.

****

“Well? What did you think?” Dec’s question came only after he pointed the car back toward the lodge.

“I’m completely overwhelmed. It was beautiful—and beautifully orchestrated. Were all of the actors local talent?”

He nodded. “Usually, yes. The Panther has always been insistent on our community theatre actually being ‘community’ driven. Occasionally, a group will bring their own stage play to town, but even then, local talent usually plays bit parts, or extras.”

“Wow. This little place seems to draw talent, doesn’t it? I mean, artists like Logan Bullard. Stage actors that could easily perform on Broadway.” She grinned and touched her fingers to the longish hair that curled against the back of his neck. “And talented, handsome, charming wood sculptors, the likes of which I can’t imagine being found anywhere else.”

Dec laughed. “Now you’re just being facetious—and awfully cute.”

“No, I’m not. It’s true.”

He slid her a playful glance. “Well, then thank you. I’m always glad to please. Now what did you think of the play?”

She stifled a grin. As usual, Dec refused to seriously acknowledge his own gifts. “I loved it. Loved it! The humor was superb, and yet there was enough true, heart-touching drama to keep it from being slapstick or corny.”

“Exactly what I thought.” He hesitated, and then opened his hand.

She placed hers in it, and he brought it to his lips, where he held it, almost reverently, for such a long time that Raine began to think her heart might burst from the sensations zinging along her nervous system.

Finally, he lowered her hand, but didn’t release it. Beneath his breath, Dec hummed the melody of the title song from the play.

After a moment, she sang along, keeping her voice low—probably too low for Dec to really hear. Raine stopped singing as the words faded away.

Dec cleared his throat a couple of times before speaking. “I watched that young man struggle with claiming his independence, and I couldn’t help thinking of you.”

“I know.” She nibbled at her lip, thinking about the blind hero’s efforts to free himself from an overbearing mother. “It was almost as if I was looking in a mirror—not that my parents are mean like that mother.” She hurried to clarify. “But still, the way she refused to give him room to grow and become his own person…and how hard she made it for him to step out on his own. She seemed incapable—or was it just unwilling?—to release him from her control.”

Dec squeezed her hand, and then moved his thumb in slow, gentle circles across the back of it. “You’ve made a great start on taking control of your life, honey. God has been doing an amazing work in you.”

“He really has.” She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes for a moment. “Actually, this entire trip has been one huge life lesson, woven into a hundred different, wonderful experiences.”

“He’s the ultimate loving Father. He does His best work in us using the full force of His love—just points us in the right direction with gentle little tugs and pushes…and then allows us to make our own choices, right or wrong.”

Raine sat up straight and fixed her gaze on him. “Dec.”

“Yeah?” He glanced at her and then back at the road.

“I want to make the right choice.”

“You will.”

“How can you know that?” A hint of panic fluttered in her stomach. “Up until Cambria, I’ve never really balked against anything my parents wanted. I’m not sure—” She broke off and pulled in a shaky breath. “What if I can’t do it? What if I seriously can’t take control of my life?”

Dec said nothing right away. He slowed the car and turned into the driveway at Paradise Pines. Once he cut the engine, however, he unbuckled, and then reached over to loosen Raine’s seatbelt. “Come here,” he whispered, and tugged her closer.

She scooted across the seat and into his arms.

With a thumb under her chin, he lifted her face and gazed into her eyes. “You can do it, Raine, and you will. I believe in you.”

“You…do?”

“With all my heart.”

She snuggled closer to his side and laid her head on his shoulder. “Then I can believe in myself.” Just a whisper, but strong and firm. “I can do what I need to do.”

They sat like that for a few minutes.

Raine pulled away, just far enough to look at him. “Thank you again. For tonight, and for helping me be strong.”

“You are strong. Stronger than you even know.” He bent his head and brushed his lips over hers. His kiss was gentle at first, and then he allowed it to deepen.

Raine melted against him, wondering if it was possible to get close enough to share one heartbeat, one breath, one soul.

Then he pulled away, leaving her feeling like half a person.

As if he felt it too, he touched a thumb to her tingling lips, re-establishing contact. “I’ll walk you up.”

She nodded.

At her door, he took her face in his hands and kissed her once more—thoroughly enough to make her knees weak. Then he released her and took a step back. “Sleep well.”

“You too.” Raine opened her door and backed inside. “Thank you, Dec. For a beautiful evening—actually, for the entire day. I’ll never forget a moment of it.”

“Nor will I.” He brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek, and Raine leaned into the caress. “Good night, sweetheart.”

“Night, Dec.” She couldn’t quite find the courage to voice a term of endearment. It seemed to come so easily to him. Would she ever overcome that part of her that shied away from putting what she felt into words?

He turned and went down the stairs to his car.

Raine closed the door and leaned against it, a hand to her heart. “Good night, my love,” she whispered into the empty room.

The moment the words left her lips, she froze in place. My love?

Dazed, she made her way to her bedroom, changed into her nightclothes, and then slipped between the sheets. After turning off the bedside lamp, she stared into the dark, stunned by how long it had taken her to realize the truth. She loved Dec Keller. Every cell in her body yearned to be with him…and not just in a physical sense, although she could not deny her response to his every touch. What she wanted was to be with him. To be the woman he came home to every night, forever.

But it couldn’t happen…could it? She had to return to Pasadena, and he had a career and a father and a home he loved, right here in Cambria.

No, a lasting relationship with Dec was out of the question. And yet she’d allowed herself to fall deeply, madly, crazily in love. “Oh, God,” she breathed into the darkness, “what am I supposed to do now?”