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“Do you want to leave, Chyanne?”

She turned to him with eyes that were so sad, it broke his heart, but she didn’t answer.

Before he could think of what else to say, Aaron was back and he brandished a pair of tweezers. “Here.”

She took them, her brow furrowing. “What are these for?”

“For you.”

Chyanne looked back at him, confusion written plain on her face.

“You made quite a mess, don’t you think?”

At first, she just stared back blankly, then her eyes went to the floor. When she looked back up, her eyes were huge in her pale face. “What… you can’t mean…”

“Quite a mess,” Aaron said again, tsking. “Now you get to clean it up.”

Her jaw dropped. “But… can’t I just… don’t we have a broom?”

Aaron shook his head.

“Well, maybe we could call the front desk and borrow one?” she tried again.

“‘Fraid not. It’s not a question of whether we have one or not. You clearly need time to think and work through… whatever you’re going through. When you’re done, let us know.”

“But… I’llneverbe done!” she exclaimed.

“Sure you will. And maybe by the time you are, you’ll be ready to discuss what caused your tantrum in the first place.” Without waiting for an answer, Aaron turned and left the kitchen.

Chyanne gaped after him, her mouth open and her lips moving, but no sound coming out.

Giving her one last sympathetic look, Chandler followed suit.

He found Aaron in the bedroom, idly flipping through the channels.

He waited in the doorway for a bit, but when it seemed the other man wouldn’t notice him, he cleared his throat. “So, how long do we wait?”

Aaron didn’t look up. “Until she’s done.”

Chandler snorted a laugh. “That could be awhile.”

“Yep.” He settled on a football game and set the remote down.

He hesitated in the doorway, torn between joining him and going to check on Chyanne.

Right at that moment, as though he sensed it, Aaron looked up. “You got a better idea?”

He let his breath out in a big, frustrated puff. Without a word, he walked inside and sat next to the ranch master, turning his attention to the men sprinting on screen.

* * *

Chyanne

If she’d thought cutting grass with scissors was hard, this took punishment to a whole new level. You had to crouch low to the floor, you had to squint and be perfectly precise. She’d gotten a bowl down from the cabinet because otherwise she was making a trip to the counter with every single grain of rice she managed to pick up. And sometimes, if she moved too quickly or loosened her grip even the tiniest bit, she would lose the grain.

I might have missed my workout, but I’ve definitely got my steps in for the day!

Having the bowl helped, but her fingers were getting so tired, she still sometimes lost the piece of rice before she made it to the bowl.