18. Old Books & Earl Gray Tea
Old Books & Earl Gray Tea
While I didn’t love being sick, Margaret’s house was by far the most relaxing place I’d been since my parents had died.
Margaret not only brought me tea and soup that never grew cold, but she made sure I had as many books as my heart could desire.
And as she’d been helping me pick books since I was just old enough to toddle into her store, her picks were always spot on.
I’d always loved reading, but it had been years since I’d had the chance to lose myself completely in a book without worrying what time it was or what chores had to be done.
And it was marvelous.
Asher texted a few times to ask how I was, but wherever he was at, he was so busy he barely had time for a few sentences a day.
Belle, however, came to check on me before and after her shift.
Even Jaelyne tried to sneak in, but Margaret kindly kept her at a distance so she wouldn’t catch whatever I had.
“What about you?” I teased Margaret once, hoping she wouldn’t hear the anxiety in my voice. “You don’t seem worried about catching anything.”
Margaret scoffed. “As though a virus would dare infect me.”
Even more amazing was that Margaret’s special fairy tale book had appeared on my bed the day after I arrived. And it had a new addition to the story.
The illustration had a girl in a beautiful gown.
Knowing she would need something suitable to wear to the king’s ball, the girl searched through the old wardrobes of her house until she found an old but elegant gown.
She took great care to clean, alter, and embellish the gown until its silk shone once more, and she knew she was ready for the ball.
I’d almost forgotten about my new costume.
But even more delightful than the addition to the book itself was the realization that I had been able to influence the story.
My action had moved the plot forward. This was a welcome discovery, and I couldn’t wait to get better and to see in what other ways I could push toward the end.
Not that I knew what happened at the end of my story. But I did know that the one being told in the book had a happy ending. And I wanted a happy ending too.
Unfortunately, Casey did eventually return, which did not constitute a happy ending. But she didn’t come to Margaret’s house until she’d been back in Buchkarte at least twenty-four hours.
“Thank you for taking care of her,” she told Margaret in a stilted voice as she looked me up and down. I was sitting up in my bed with a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. “She looks very comfortable.”
“She wasn’t when she was brought here,” Margaret said in an equally cold manner. “Poor girl had lost consciousness in the barn.”
Casey pursed her lips. “What do you think, Ella? Do you think you lost consciousness, or that you fell asleep? Because when I checked the security cameras, it looked to me like you took yourself over to the hay pile and laid down.”
“Because I couldn’t stand any more,” I said, unwilling to let Casey unnerve me.
“Well, she wasn’t that bad when I left, at least.” Casey turned to Margaret. “And it looks like she’s doing quite well now.” She turned back toward the front door. “Come on, Ella. Thank Margaret, and let’s go home. The horses will need to be fed soon.”
I sighed. So much for rest. While it was true that I was improving quickly, I was definitely not back to normal. But before I could even push my covers back, Margaret was standing in front of me, her arms crossed as she glared at Casey.
“Ella will not be going anywhere until I deem her ready.”
My stepmother stared at her. “If you think you can tell me what to do with my daughter–”
“But I’m not your daughter.”
They both turned to stare at me. If I could have, I would have stared at myself. I hadn’t meant to speak the words out loud. And yet, they had come, and I had no desire to take them back.
“You said I’m your employee,” I said, pushing myself into more of a sitting position. “And as an employee, I haven’t taken a day off since last year.” With each word, I felt stronger, so I kept going. “I’m entitled to sick days,” I continued. “And I’m still feeling sick.”
Casey gave me a cold smile. “I thought we already had this discussion. And in it, we established the understanding that as my employee, I have the right to terminate you whenever I please.”
“Do that,” Margaret said in a dark voice that I had never heard her use, “and I will call the sheriff to do a well check on your horses. Don’t think I don’t know that you’ve been cutting Derrick Washington’s hours to a bare minimum, even after he called you to tell you about Ella’s illness.
” She lifted her chin defiantly. “I know the sheriff. I’ve been selling him books since he was five, and I happen to know that he’ll be very interested in making sure all of your horses are healthy and aren’t suffering any sort of neglect since you were gone. ”
Casey had never liked Margaret. From the time she’d married my father, Margaret had been suspicious of the woman, and she’d not made it a secret that she was checking up on my welfare.
And she’d continued to do so even more after my father had died.
I’d appreciated it, but Casey had always interpreted Margaret’s interference as a lack of trust in her maternal abilities.
A lack of trust that was–admittedly–completely justified.
The hatred that Casey had always harbored for Margaret, however, had always been kept somewhat hidden. She’d managed to bury it beneath fake smiles and vague greetings. But now it burned hot in her eyes as she and Margaret stared one another down.
The battle couldn’t last forever, however, and Casey was the first one to fold.
She finally looked down at her purse and sniffed as she pulled it over her shoulder.
“Very well, Ella. Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough about my Sick Day Policy, which is my fault.
Stay until you feel well.” She met my gaze and her eyes narrowed.
“But we’re going to have a thorough review of my expectations as soon as you return. ” And with that, she was gone.
Margaret shook her head and huffed. “Finally! I thought she was never going to leave!”
“I can’t stay there,” I said quietly. “I’m going to have to leave.”
Margaret turned and looked down at me, compassion replacing the fury in her eyes. “I’m afraid so, love.”
I nodded. “I know I need to go. I just… need to figure out how to do so without losing Nevada.”
To my surprise, Margaret sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped me in a hug. I breathed in deeply when she did, relishing how it felt to feel completely loved and trying to memorize her scent of old books mixed with earl gray tea.
“You’ll figure it out,” she said softly, leaning back and lifting my chin. Then she tapped on my unfinished tale. “The heroine always does.”