“We know a good thing when we see it.” He drew back and peeled off his coat. “Speaking of good things, I have something for you.” He led her toward the Christmas tree and kneeling down, he pulled out a long white tube from beneath the tree’s thick branches.
“It was just an idea,” he said. “You will probably have better ones.”
She carried the tube back to the counter, and drew out the roll of white paper. They were architectural plans, she realized, as she unrolled the paper. Plans for the bookstore from the look of it. She glanced at Atticus but his expression betrayed nothing. He helped her flatten the plans, though, by placing a book on one side, while she used a paperweight to hold down the other.
“So, tell me what I’m looking at,” she said, scanning the large rectangle with smaller black boxes and lines. “I see the front door, and the corner windows. I see the stairs, too, but what is all this?” she asked, gesturing to an area against the far wall, one that right now held nonfiction books, mostly travel and cookbooks and some self-help.
“That’s your coffee bar,” he said, leaning on his elbows and smiling at her.
“My coffee bar?”
“You’d really only need one, maybe two, baristas, and when it’s slow they can help you with your online book business.”
She arched a brow. “My online business.”
“It’s going to be profitable.”
“And what is this area back here, in what is currently the big storage room? Please tell me it’s not a kitchen.”
“It’s not. It’s your new children’s section, complete with a little stage for guest authors and story time.” He tapped another square. “That’s your elevator to the second floor, and this here is your fully accessible bathroom, so that everyone can use the facilities.”
“You have thought of everything,” she said, flipping the page over and studying the second page, and then realizing there was a third. “What is this? My little apartment?”
“Remember, it’s just an idea,” he said.
She frowned as she studied the plans. The kitchen/living room looked different, as did the bedroom. In fact, the bedroom was gone and the kitchen/living room looked considerably smaller. “What’s happened to it?”
“It’s an office, in case you wanted to have your own accounting business here. You already own the building. You’ve lost some of the kitchen because the elevator goes straight up to the third floor now, but you still have room for a small refrigerator, sink, and microwave. The living room is a meeting space, or reception space if you have clients coming, and the bedroom is now your office. You’ll note that we have your desk facing the window so you can see Copper Mountain and the Gallatin Range.”
She looked at him in wonder. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“I wanted to give you reasons to stay.”
Overwhelmed she reached out and put her hand on his chest just to feel the strong drumming of his heart. “You’re my reason to stay,” she said unsteadily. “You’re all I need to stay.”
“I know how important your work is to you—”
“I’ll be fine workwise. I’m not worried. I’m not worried about anything.”
He drew her even closer, his hands low on her hips. “Nothing?”
“For the first time in my life, I’m not worried. I have such confidence about the future. But not just confidence, excitement. This is going to be fun. You and me, together. We’re a team.”
“And we’re going to have an adventure.”
“I’m ready.”
“Me, too. Merry Christmas, Rachel.”
“Merry Christmas, Atticus. May this be the first of many, many.”
And then he kissed her, and there were no more words for a very long time.
Epilogue
They didn’t rush into marriage, or an engagement, because Rachel—despite being madly in love with Atticus—was practical. Sensible. Fortunately, she knew Atticus knew her, and she was grateful he waited to propose, giving her time to really be comfortable with all their plans.
For four months they dated long distance, and at first it was fine, but after two months, it became incredibly frustrating. She knew at New Year’s, when she met Atticus’s family, that he was the one she’d want forever, and she’d thought she’d be okay waiting for them to actually be together, but she was wrong. She wasn’t happy away from him. By Valentine’s Day she didn’t want to be in Irvine anymore. By March, she didn’t want to be at Novak & Bartley. She just wanted to be wherever Atticus was. Houston. Galveston. Marietta. She just wanted to be with him. She loved him, and now that she loved, she wasn’t ever going to stop.
One day during the third week of April he called while she was at work, letting her know that the Bank of Marietta was ready to sell their building, and asked if she’d want to go to Marietta with him and look at the building, and help them decide if this was the right thing, and if he should make an offer. She told him she’d be on the next flight.
“Would you be able to stay for a few extra days?” he asked. “We haven’t had much time together lately and I miss you.”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“Can you get the time off on short notice?”
“We’ve survived April fifteenth. I’m sure I can get some time off. But, Atticus, I should tell you, that I’ve been shifting some work to the other accountants on my team. I’ve delegating more because I’m ready to move on. This isn’t what I want. I want to be in Marietta, in my bookstore. Living there, I could build my client base. I’ve looked into the accountants there, and most of them are older men, and I think they could use some fresh blood.” She hesitated. “I guess what I’m saying is, if you’re ready for Marietta, I am, too.”
“And if the bank isn’t the right place for me?”
“Then I go where you are.” She took a quick breath. “If you think that’s the best thing for us. If not, I’ll just go to Marietta and we’ll take it from there.”
“I just worry that Marietta is too small for you.”
“My world is even smaller here. It’s the office, and my condo, and that’s it. I have more friends in Marietta than I do in California.”
*
Atticus was in Bozeman when she arrived Wednesday at two thirty. He’d already rented a car and had his suitcase in the back. He took her luggage, added it to his in the back of the SUV, and they were off as they had an a
ppointment in Marietta and needed to drive straight to it, if she didn’t mind.
She didn’t mind.
In Marietta, she expected they would go to the bank. Instead, they went to the courthouse. It wasn’t until they were at the courthouse, speaking to the county clerk, that it began to dawn on her what was happening.
“A marriage license,” she whispered to Atticus.
“What do you say?” he answered. “Want to get married?”
“You’re proposing?”
“Want to get married today? There’s no waiting period in Montana.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Just you and me?”
“Would you hate that?”
“No. I’d love it.”
“But of course, if we marry here, we’d have to invite a few friends. The Sheenans and Douglases.”
She thought of her father and felt guilty. “My dad should be here, though, and your parents. Especially your parents. I don’t think they’d forgive you for getting married without them.”
“We could always go to Houston for a honeymoon.”
She tried not to wrinkle her nose. “We could,” she said slowly, reluctantly.
The clerk returned their IDs and the completed paperwork and wished them well. Atticus took her hand, and held it as they left the clerk’s office.
“Well, think about it,” he said. “We can always do the wedding here, and a reception there.”
She smiled up at him. “Oh, I like that idea. I’m sure your family has tons of friends they’d invite.”
“Too many friends,” he agreed. “It’s not really my thing.”
“Or mine.” She tugged on his hand on the steps of the courthouse. “I’d love to marry sooner than later.”
“What about a big white wedding? Wouldn’t you miss all the fanfare and fuss?”
“Oh, no. It’s such a waste of money.”
He laughed, and kissed her, and then kissed her again, eyes still crinkling with humor. “How did I know you were going to say that?”
“I’m consistent.”