Fragile Sanctuary (Sparrow Falls Book 1)

SIX MONTHS LATER

I turned onto the drive leading toward the Victorian, but my SUV didn’t bump and bounce now. The road had been transformed, and Anson hadn’t been willing to settle for simply regrading the gravel; he’d had the whole thing paved. Once I had decided to stay and keep rebuilding, he became dedicated to making everything…perfect.

Biscuit’s head popped over the divider, resting on my shoulder as he took in the sights in front of us, just like I was. I’d expected to see an endless array of trucks. Shep had brought in every single one of his guys for the past two weeks in hopes of finally finishing the restoration.

They’d run into more issues than I could count but hadn’t given up. And the past three weeks, no one would let me inside to see the final progress, wanting it to be a surprise. But now, there wasn’t a single vehicle in the area other than Anson’s.

Instead of heading for the guest cottage Anson and I had made our home for the past six months, I guided my SUV toward the main house. I pulled to a stop in front of the flower beds that flanked the front door. While they lay mostly dormant as winter was about to set in, I knew what lay beneath the soil—the promise of a riot of color come spring.

Just knowing that had warmth spreading through me as I climbed out of the SUV. I moved around to the back to let Biscuit out. He no longer required a leash. Anson had worked some fancy training mojo I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around.

I glanced around, itching to peek in the windows, but then my gaze caught on a piece of paper taped to the front door.

Come in, Reckless. I know you’re already snooping.

A laugh bubbled out of me. Damn that profiler for always knowing me so well.

My heart picked up speed as my hand rested on the doorknob. This was it. I was going to see my house for the first time in almost fifteen years. My home.

No, our home. Anson’s and mine. Because he had been the one to help me bring it back. But more than that, he had helped me find the strength to see it through. He was there as I healed physically and as I put the pieces back together emotionally. Just like I was there for him.

It could never be anything other than ours. Our safe place. Our sanctuary. Our home.

Biscuit leaned into my side as if urging me on.

“Okay, buddy.”

I twisted the brass knob, and the door opened easily. As it did, I sucked in a breath. Everything about the space was stunning. Gleaming wood, a gorgeous chandelier, and…my gaze locked on the wallpaper.

My eyes burned as I took it in. The fairies with shimmery wings. The same pattern my mom had picked out so many years ago. “How?” I croaked. When we’d tried to find it, the manufacturer had told us it was out of stock.

Anson’s deep voice cut through the quiet space. “I got a list of stores that carried the brand from the manufacturer and started calling. A place in Ohio had it. Ordered everything they had left.”

My gaze moved to him. He wasn’t in dirty work clothes. He’d showered and wore a flannel shirt with…strands of pink in the patchwork of threads. “How many stores did you call?” I whispered.

“Three hundred and thirteen.”

Of course, Anson knew the exact number. Of course, he hadn’t stopped with that many nos.

“I love you,” I breathed.

One corner of his mouth kicked up. “I know.”

“Jerk,” I muttered with a laugh.

“You want to see some more?” Anson asked, his grin widening.

“I don’t know if I can handle more. I’m only in the entryway, and I’m already a puddle.”

Anson shook his head. “My girl can handle it. Strongest person I know.”

I moved then, crossing to him and wrapping my arms around him. “I’m getting dirt all over you, but I can’t not hug you.”

He brushed some hair out of my face. “Never mind your dirt.” His lips brushed over mine. “Missed you.”

Anson said those words every day when I got home from Bloom. Duncan had held my job for me, Thea picking up some of the slack by taking on extra hours. But when I was ready to come back, they welcomed me with open arms.

Just like Anson welcomed me home with those words. Missed you. And I felt them. In that spot somewhere in my chest that was only his. Because we didn’t take a single day for granted. We lived each one to its fullest.

I breathed him in, relishing the feel of his strong arms around me, the way his hold made wherever we were home. “Thank you.”

“You haven’t seen everything yet. I could’ve botched something,” Anson said, his lips ghosting over my temple.

“You didn’t.” I was more sure of that than anything.

“Why don’t you at least peek in the library?”

My insides twisted as pressure built behind my eyes. Memories of all the time my dad and I had spent reading in there. Him with his thrillers or the books we were reading together, and me with whatever adventure he’d set for us.

“Okay,” I breathed.

Anson released me then, moving to the sliding doors that opened to the library and office. They were dark wood punctuated with thick glass that allowed light through but distorted the image of what lay behind it. The design was absolutely stunning.

His fingers caught on the brass handles, and he slid the doors open effortlessly. As he stepped inside and out of my way, I gasped again. Biscuit was instantly at my side, checking to see if I was all right. My hand dropped to his head, but I couldn’t say a word.

It was my dad’s library but more. Anson had added one of those antique library ladders and chosen a deep teal for the walls that was more me than the reddish color that had been in here before. He’d also created something different on the far wall.

Instead of a single painting, he’d made a gallery wall. It was full of art pieces he’d managed to salvage from the fire wreckage and an endless sea of photos. He’d obviously gotten Nora’s help on that. There were pictures of my mom, dad, Emilia, and me. Ones of Fallon and me. Of all our siblings. Of Nora and Lolli. Some of me and Anson. And, of course, Biscuit.

Tears brimmed in my eyes as I turned to the wall of books next. Anson had clearly paid attention to every detail I’d told him because there was a section of thrillers, including all my dad’s favorites. Then a section with all the stories Dad and I had read together. And then, lastly, a series of shelves with new books Anson and I had been reading.

Finally, my gaze came to Anson. He stood there looking…nervous. For maybe the first time. “So?”

I didn’t wait. I ran at him. Anson caught me with a muttered curse as I flung myself into him, legs going around his waist. “I love you,” I murmured into his neck.

Anson chuckled, the sound sweeping through me in warm vibration. “I’m taking that as you like it.”

I pulled back so I could see his beautiful face. “I love it. I’ve never seen anything more perfect.”

Anson’s expression went soft. “Wanted it to be you and him.”

“And us,” I added.

“And us,” he echoed.

As Anson stared into my eyes, he walked toward the bookshelves, my legs still locked around his waist. Without looking, he pulled a book from the shelf and handed it to me.

A Wrinkle in Time.

It was the same worn copy I’d read with my dad.

“Flip to the end,” Anson said softly.

My throat constricted, winding tight. But I was braver now. And I trusted this man with everything I had.

My hands trembled as I flipped through the yellowed pages until I reached that final chapter. I stilled as I got to the last page. A beautiful bookmark lay there, one with flowers pressed into the thick paper. And on it read, The End is only a chance for another beginning.

Tears spilled over as Anson pulled the bookmark free. At the end of it was what I first thought was a charm. But it wasn’t. It was more.

I stopped breathing as I took in the ring. A bronzy gold with the most stunning pink stone I’d seen surrounded by tiny diamonds that made it look as if the ring itself were the most beautiful blossom.

“Anson.” It was the only thing I could get out.

He gently unfastened the ring from the bookmark and took my hand. “You gave me air when I thought I’d never breathe again. You gave me color when my world had gone black. You see every part of me. I don’t want to spend another moment without you. Marry me.”

My heart thudded against my ribs. “Yes. Wherever you are is where I want to be.”

Anson slid the ring onto my finger. “Had to be a pink diamond for my colorful, reckless girl. A flower for the queen of life.” His lips hovered over mine. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Love this beginning.” Because that was what Anson gave me over and over. The chance to begin again. And I knew that would never end.