Page 26 of Sadie’s Highlander (Highland Protector #1)
CHAPTER 25
I t was way past midnight. She should be in bed at least attempting to get an hour or so of sleep. Sadie scooted her chair closer to the tiny window of her room, propped her arms on the sill, and rested her chin atop them. Maybe it would snow tonight. Her gaze traveled higher, picking out several pinpoints of light winking in the darkness. Nah. Too clear. No snow tonight . Not that she really cared. Ever since her life had gone into the shitter, she didn’t really care about anything.
A rough, gravelly groaning sound, something like a cross between a stalling engine and a bleating lamb, rumbled and purred beside her. Sadie ignored it, staring unblinking up at the stars. A solid furry thump head-butted her arm, demanding she pay attention. Sadie straightened in her chair, scooped the insistent cat off the window ledge, and settled him in her lap. “Not sleepy either, Harold?”
The battle-scarred cat closed his eyes, making that blissful face only a cat can make when its human scratches in the elusively perfect spot under its chin. His whiskers twitched forward and his front paws worked back and forth in a steady rhythm that perfectly counted off the sound of his dysfunctional purr. Making biscuits. That’s what Miss Martha called it when Harold kneaded his paws like he was working dough.
Sadie rested her head on the back of the chair, drawing in a heavy breath and releasing it in a despondent sigh. She dared not sleep. Sleep brought dreams, and dreams triggered more tears. She and the ache of bone-tired weariness had become old friends. Even after hours of scrubbing the bed-and-breakfast from top to bottom, she’d doze just enough to get her through the next day—a day that would be just as bleak and hopeless as the one she’d just survived.
They’d been the same, these past couple of days. Spent cleaning Miss Martha’s establishment until even Miss Martha herself shooed her away, saying she’d done enough for one day. Then she’d make sure no MacDaras were anywhere to be seen on Main Street so she could go to her second job at the café, washing dishes and hoping like hell that none of the MacDaras would show up. The deep, rumbling sound of their Scottish brogue out in the dining area always made her want to cry.
The judge had given her probation and a manageable fine—he’d had to deal with Delia’s court appearance first on that same morning, so he’d shown pity on Sadie for being cursed with such a sister. That was the only bright spot in all this mess. Delia’s lawyer had given her documents stating that her portion of the inheritance was now exhausted and she was not to get within five hundred miles of Delia Williams or Realm Spinners Productions at risk of legal ramifications.
A bitter chuckle escaped her. Whatever. If she never saw that bitch again, it would be too soon. Within a few days, she’d have enough money scraped together to leave Brady. She didn’t know where she was going, but it sure as hell wouldn’t be California or anywhere near any of Delia’s connections.
Running her hand down Harold’s rough, patchy coat, Sadie sadly smiled down at the old cat. “At least you don’t look at me like everyone else does.”
Harold responded with a toothless yawn and butted his head into the palm of her hand.
No one in Brady had ever said anything to her about that day, but Sadie could feel their eyes boring into her whenever they thought she wasn’t looking. She didn’t really blame them for disliking her. After all, the MacDaras and their park were well loved and respected in the community. Thanks to her stupidity and the destruction wreaked by Realm Spinners Productions, Highland Life and Legends had been forced to close early in the season for repairs. The holidays were coming and now many in Brady were without employment—all thanks to her.
Sadie scooped up Harold and relocated him to his favorite spot on the bed. The cat gave her a scolding look and a throaty rowr.
“I have to get another scene finished and uploaded tonight. They offered me a bonus in this week’s check if I could get them at least three more installments.” Sadie fired up the old computer Miss Martha had let her borrow. It would take the ancient machine a good fifteen minutes to hum and click its way to functional status, but it was all she had and definitely better than nothing.
Thumbing through the notes she’d jotted down throughout the day, Sadie mentally reviewed the status of her meager finances. Miss Martha didn’t pay her in money, but the clean room and the free food were worth their weight in gold and enabled Sadie to squirrel away every penny from washing dishes and uploading daily chunks of stories to the website she’d found last year. She’d managed to build up quite a following and her readers were voracious.
The Forum paid her a percentage of the fee they charged readers for every download. The site was dedicated to binge readers who loved to follow ongoing stories the way television addicts followed their favorite series. Cover art wasn’t necessary, so she wasn’t out that cost, and the site itself provided line editing for a small fee. By her calculations, by the end of this week, her check from the site would be almost five hundred dollars, for three different series of stories. It wasn’t much, but it was a start toward rebuilding her life—and it was enough for a bus ticket out of Brady.
Rebuilding her life. Yeah. Right . She would never have a life again—not without Alec. Sadie closed her eyes, refusing to give in to tears. One minute at a time. Just get through one minute at a time. She pulled in a deep breath and slowly blew it out, forcing the painful memories away—his touch, his voice, the warm scent of him sleeping beside her. She shook her head, digging her thumbs into her throbbing temples. Enough. All of it was gone . She shuttered the images, the sensations, everything away, shoved them back to the carefully locked corner of her mind.
Thankfully, Miss Martha had finally stopped trying to get her to go to Alec and talk things out. What the hell was there to talk about? She’d betrayed him. Thinking back, Sadie clearly saw it all pieced together and put in place like some horrific jigsaw puzzle. If she had just paid attention, she would’ve figured out what Delia was up to and she could have blown the whistle—somehow stopped her. But no—she was too wrapped up in Alec and all the things a life with him could hold. And look where that had gotten her.
Sadie plopped down in the rickety wooden chair in front of the small table holding the computer and raised her hands, wiggling her fingers in midair. “Enough. Time to pour all this relationship angst into words.”
Harold raised his head and blinked at her.
“Sorry, Harold. Go back to sleep.” Sadie logged in, called up the latest file, and started typing.
Who knew that the complete loss of all your hopes and dreams could trigger such great stories?