Beautifully Wounded (The Beaumont Brothers) - Plot & Excerpts
I figured being around people might be good for me. God knows I’d been deprived of that privilege long enough. The only people I ever got to see were the clerks at the grocery store or occasionally, the mailman, if I happened to be outside during the mail delivery, but he never left his truck, and only waved from his seat if he happened to notice me. Jackson helped me down the long stairway leading from the cottage to the house. Once inside he helped make me comfortable on the huge, buttery soft, brown-leather sofa positioned between two dark wooden tables, each sporting the most intricately carved wooden lamps. Across from the sofa stood a tan and light brown stone fireplace sizzling with the scent of burning pine. The two-inch thick slats on the brown shutters of the windows allowed just the right amount of sun in to warm my arms. There was a painting of roaring ocean waves breaking against the side of a steep mountain cliff on the wall behind my head, positioned just a few inches above the sofa.
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