Page 8

Chapter eight

Fighting gravity

Lorilei

The house is quiet when I wake. I thought when Sawyer got up and left that he would be noisy since he’s just down the hall, so it’s a surprise when my alarm goes off at seven.

Hmm, Sophia didn’t call. I bet she has to pee like crazy. When I checked on her at ten, she said she was fine for the night, but I know just how big the jug of water next to her bed is.

Getting dressed quickly, I drag my hair back into another braid and rush through my morning routine.

“Knock, knock. Good morning.” I try to be quiet when I push into her room.

“Hi. I’m up.” The darkness is broken by the glare of her cell that she tosses on the table. “I’m glad you’re here.” She blinks against the lights when I turn them on.

“I tried to hurry.” Pulling back her blanket, I help hold her heel as she maneuvers her broken leg over the edge of the bed.

By the second time moving her to the bathroom yesterday, we already had a system worked out.

“Don’t worry so much. This is an easy job, Lori. Ranch life moves at a different speed.” She sticks her cast out as she shimmies her sweats down to sit on the toilet. “It’s all about slow and steady. The work never ends, so you just keep chipping away.”

Shutting the bathroom door, I lean against it and stare up at the purple painted ceiling.

I don’t know how to not be one hundred percent. Taking things in tiny steps is for people who can’t achieve.

But, Sophia manages to do well at school. Is that the way she cruises through?

It’s a concept I can’t even wrap my head around. “How does it work when there isn’t a goal?”

“Life is the goal. One day at a time, enjoy the ride. Pick a long game, but enjoy the trip. Okay, I’m done.” The toilet punctuates her statement.

“Please, please, can I get a shower this morning? My pits are speaking to me in some sort of onion language.” She grins and makes a show of raising one arm and batting her blue eyes like she’s about to fall over.

“Of course, your highness.” I do my best dainty curtsy that sends her into giggles.

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she sighs. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.” I remember seeing the garbage bags in the kitchen yesterday, so it doesn’t take long to get her leg wrapped to keep her cast dry.

After she’s all done scrubbing, I braid her thick dark hair to match mine.

“My god, I feel better. The little sponge baths I got in the hospital didn’t do anything to get the smell of Misty off of me. I thought I was going to stink like horse sweat forever.” Sophia leans back against the pillows.

She looks exhausted with her pale cheeks and weak smile. “That kicked my ass, but totally worth it.”

“I’ll bring you a muffin from the freezer and your next pain med.” Nuking her snack in the microwave, I can’t help but notice the stains on the refrigerator door. It looks like years of hands have left their mark.

Boy, do I have my work cut out for me. It isn’t filthy, just obvious that it’s been missing a deep cleaning for a long time. I might not be a great cook, but housekeeping is something my mother ingrained in me from a young age.

Well, her finding the slightest imperfection and pointing it out made me more meticulous.

Sophia is already dozing when I come back to her bedside.

I give her a soft nudge on the shoulder and help her swallow her pill.

“Thank you,” she says as she slumps back against the pillows.

“Before you pass out, is there any area I’m not allowed in? I wanted to start cleaning today.” I don’t even know how big this house is, yet.

From the outside, it rivals some hotels I’ve seen.

Her hand waves limply from her wrist. “No, you’re loose to the world. Ignore Sawyer’s room. I think he probably has gremlins living in all his shit.”

“I appreciate the warning. Text me if you need anything, I’ll keep my phone handy.” Before I slide it into my back pocket, I double check to make sure the notifications are set to ding and vibrate.

She rolls onto her side away from me. “Thank you.” Her voice is muffled against her pillow.

Okay.

Where do I start?

Probably the kitchen. If I’m going to be tasked with cooking every day, I want to make sure I have a clean start.

The pile of odds and ends that I cleared from the table needs to be dealt with, too.

These look like bills. I guess they go into Mason’s office.

A little wave of heat rises up my neck at the thought of going into his wing of the house.

Come on, knock it off.

He isn’t any different than the guys on campus. Or the professors.

But, they don’t suck the air out of the room when they walk in.

I wonder if his area exists in a vacuum.

Will I die if I go in there?

Timidly, I tiptoe past the kitchen to the rooms beyond.

It’s almost like I’m trespassing into hostile territory.

The first door is a bathroom that looks like it hasn’t been touched by a mop in a long time.

Next, thankfully, has his desk. Papers are in neat piles, with an empty letter holder near the end.

Perfect.

His scent lingers in the air. Leather, horse and something deeper that I can’t place.

It still tickles my nose as I leave.

And now I’m torn. There’s a part of me that wants to continue to explore.

But, I know there’s only one place left.

My finger taps against my thigh as I struggle with the indecision.

No. I’ll only go in there when I have to. There’s probably a bathroom that will need to be cleaned, but that will just have to wait.

I can feel my pulse racing at the thought of entering his intimate space.

Why does he make me so nervous? I feel like I need to try harder to impress him.

But, I can’t figure out the reason.

My nose wrinkles with turmoil.

Nothing I’m thinking makes any sense.

I just have this drive to want to know him more.

The family portrait that hangs over the mantle should tell me everything I want to know. Him, his wife Carolyn, and a much younger version of Sophia and Sawyer.

They both look like her. Bright blue eyes, dark hair.

Neither inherited the gold-tinged eyes that now wear the marks of sadness in the corners.

I feel bad for him. Is that what it is?

We both have experienced loss. My father, his wife.

No, it’s not the same.

There’s no “bonding” between us.

Don’t be silly.

I’m here to do a job. He’s my boss, and this is just my crazy way of wanting to be the best at everything I set my mind to.

It’s my insane overachiever drive that keeps pushing my thoughts towards him.

So, I guess I better get started on this mess.