Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“I packed you lunch too.” She smiles as she moves around the kitchen like she’s used to being there.
I take a bite of the ham, biscuit and gravy, and groan. I lean back in my chair and close my eyes because I don’t know if I’ve ever had something so good. She laughs, but I can’t look at her. I can’t see what might be there as I enjoy what she’s made for me. In my mind I think that this is just for me, but she probably gets up early like this all the time and was making her own breakfast. I’ll reap the benefits of it, if that’s the case, but part of me wants to believe that it’s mine. I’m not used to this feeling in my chest, and once again it’s tight. It feels like jealousy, but that doesn’t make sense. Why would I be jealous she did all this when that’s what I’m paying her to do?
Speaking of paying her, she’s probably up early to get her money. I take my wallet out and pull out a stack of cash. “That’s yours.” I say and nod to the money.
“Oh yeah, I forgot about that.” She smiles again but doesn’t make a move to take it. I go back to eating while she turns on the water at the sink.
“You not eating?” I ask as I look over for another plate.
“I have a hard time eating right when I wake up. I usually just have coffee.” She holds up her mug and takes a sip.
I stop chewing and look at all the food then look back at her in question.
“I thought you might be hungry, and I knew you’d be up early. I just wanted to start the day off on a better foot than yesterday.” She reaches over and grabs a bagged lunch and places it beside me on the table. “I’m going to go take a shower, but feel free to eat the rest or it will go to waste.”
She turns around and walks away, and for half a second I want to reach out and grab her. I want to pull her onto my lap and tell her how thankful I am that she did this for me, but I don’t. Instead I sit in silence as she walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs. My plate is empty, but somehow I’m still hungry. I feel hollow inside like I’ve never been full, and I rub at my chest. Why won’t this feeling go away?
After I eat another plateful of food, I decide to clean up the dishes. She did all this work to make it look nice and got up early to cook for me. The least I can do is put my dishes away. I take my time and dawdle a little longer than necessary, but it’s definitely not because I want to see her again before I leave.
When I hear Otis whistle outside the barn, I know I’m out of time, so I grab my lunch and my hat on the way out the door. The fall air is cool this morning, and it smells like winter is hot on its heels. At the last second, I go back inside and throw a couple of logs in the fireplace and light it up, thinking that I don’t want Dotty to catch a chill.
When I get to the barn, Otis gives me an odd look as he drinks his coffee. “You okay this morning?” I nod and he cocks his head to the side. “You look different.”
“How?”
“Don’t know really.” He walks over to the stables and places his mug on the railing as he grabs the saddle. “But you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I stop and stare at him as my eyebrows pull together. “What?”
“Not scared or anything. It’s hard to explain.” He looks me over again as he carries the saddle to the next stall. “You just look like you’ve seen something, maybe something for the first time.”
Otis turns his back to me as he saddles the horse, and I think about what he’s saying. I glance out of the barn doors and to the big house where Dotty is in the shower. I think about seeing her in the kitchen and how much I ached to hold her. I’ve never been touched by a woman, not even for an embrace, but I imagine a hug from her would make this ache in my chest go away.
The problem is she’s got a ring on her finger, so she belongs to someone else. But if she were mine, I don’t think I could ever let her go.
Chapter Five
Dotty
I pull the needle through one more time before I cut the thread to the button on Clay’s jeans. There’s no point in throwing them out if I can fix them.