Chapter Six
Naomi thought she must have slept because the sun was creeping through the drapes the next time she opened her eyes.
She stretched and then slid off the bed. Pulling the drape aside to look out, she caught her breath. She could see for miles, and every inch of the meadow and the woods beyond was breathtaking.
She could hear the cows but couldn’t see them. A smile crossed her face. Since her father had gotten sick, and her life had turned upside down, tranquility started to settle inside her.
A flash of excitement raced through her as she hurriedly got dressed and walked out of her room.
The first look at the mess that was directly across from her bedroom door shocked her. Mr. Dawson’s room looked like a tornado hit it. She could barely see the floor, so many clothes were strewn around.
Naomi was so glad that Margaret, her housekeeper in her childhood home, had taught her some of these things. She still had a lot to learn, but at least she wasn’t totally inept. After her mother had died and her father remarried, she’d been forbidden to talk or spend time with “the help,” as her stepmother called them. They weren’t people to her, they were a necessity for living the life Diana wanted.
Shaking off her memories, she gathered an armload, and her nose wrinkled at the smell. She hurriedly walked downstairs to search for a laundry room, which she found off the kitchen. The first load went in before she grabbed a laundry basket and walked back up to his bedroom.
It took three more trips to gather all the clothes and towels in his bedroom and bathroom. Once she had those separated into small piles, she turned to the kitchen and cringed. She had planned to tackle his bathroom first, but the kitchen was a disaster.
She rummaged through the cabinets until she found the cleaning supplies. She wiped off a portion of the granite countertop before laying a large towel down and setting to work on the dishes. She laughed. He had used just about every dish in the kitchen, and she wondered what he would have done if he had run out.
After the dishes were washed and put away and the sink cleaned, she looked in the food supply and made a list of things she had on hand and another of the items she’d need soon for meals.
Her stomach cramped suddenly. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, she noticed it was lunchtime, and she hadn’t had breakfast. She made herself a sandwich and took bites between folding clothes and making lists.
When she had finished a load of his laundry, she grabbed some cleaners and went to his room. She stripped the bed and remade it with sheets she’d found in a hall closet. She put away his clothes in a huge walk-in closet that had shelves for jeans and t-shirts and big baskets for socks and underwear.
She wiped down all the furniture and vacuumed it with one she found in the same closet as the sheets.
In the bathroom, she scrubbed everything until it shined.
Back in the kitchen, she started a chicken she’d thawed, potatoes and carrots in a roaster at a lower temperature, and then went back to the laundry. In between loads, she cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom. She hadn’t tackled the inside of the cupboards or the pantry yet, but that would take a whole day, and she planned to start in the morning.
The sun started to set when she heard the back door open and slam shut as she was in the laundry room. She felt a shiver race up her spine when the heavy footfalls came toward her.
Naomi cringed, and then the breath whooshed out of her lungs when Mr. Dawson came around the corner.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to scare you, Honey.”
She patted her chest because it felt like her heart was about ready to jump out of her chest. “It’s all right. Really. I get jumpy in new places.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“What are you afraid of, Sweetheart?”
“I … nothing. You just startled me.”
“I see.” His eyes narrowed on her. “You’ll tell me the truth eventually.”
“How do you know I’m not now?”
“Because you’re a lousy liar.”
Damn. She couldn’t tell him the truth because she didn’t think he’d believe her, and she didn’t want him to ask other people about her.
“I … can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Are you in trouble?”
Naomi shook her head. “Not like you think. No harm will come to you.”
He studied her for another moment. “I’m going up to shower.”
“Dinner will be on the table when you come down.”
She watched him leave and hurried into the kitchen. She took the roaster out of the oven, put the chicken on a platter with the veggies around it, and then set it on the table. She grabbed a glass of milk and set it on the table. She’d had a plate and silverware ready for him.
She walked back into the laundry room to continue her work.