Chapter 5 Willow
This morning when my eyes blink open at the bright lights, I know where I am.
The last few mornings have left me disoriented, though the days have been nice.
Peaceful. I thought the kid might bother me but she’s actually all right.
I stretch and something moves beside me. I gasp and pull down the covers.
“Slippers!”
Ellie opens her eyes with a giggle. “You sleep funny.”
“When did you get in here?” I grumble.
“When I woke up.” She bounces.
“And when was that?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. But it’s your last day here and I wanted to see if Rose was right.”
“About what?”
“That you’re not a pretty morning person.”
I cock my head. “And?”
She smiles mischievously. “You should sleep a little more.”
I reach for a pillow and whack her with it. She falls back laughing.
It’s not until now that her words settle in. Your last day.
I’ve been so busy breathing these last two days that I forgot I was supposed to think about what I’m going to do.
Look for a cheap rental in the city, maybe even get a second job—at least for the next four years.
Then I can buy that house in the suburbs.
The one they’ll build just for me. Marry no one and record an album by thirty.
Rose comes into the room. “There you are. Come on, girl, we’ve got to get you dressed for school.”
“Can’t I stay home? It’s Willow’s last day here.”
I scrunch my nose, pouting at Rose to help the kid out. But honestly, I wouldn’t mind hanging out with her a few more hours. Not like I’m rushing to anything more appealing back home—apartment or not.
I nudge her with my shoulder and wink. “Your daddy wouldn’t like that much. Come on.”
She moves her big eyes to me, something sincere yet unreadable hidden there.
I flick a curl away from her face. “Besides, I’m not leaving till later tonight. I’ll see you again.”
“Actually,” Rose corrects, “Ginger and Grandpa are going to pick you up from school today.”
“Oh right,” Ellie bounces beside me. “Ginger’s making sloppy joes and cookies.”
I pout—and I’m not sure how much of it is for Ellie’s benefit this time. I stretch my arms out. “Looks like this is it, kid. Till next time.”
She leans in and boy, does this kid know how to hug.
“I’ve got to get me one of these in the city,” I tell Rose as she jerks the wheel, steering the golf cart off the road and onto the dirt trail.
“Second best thing I got out of this place. The cowboy being the first.”
“Only you could steal something, vandalize it, and have the original owner gift it back to you.”
She glances at me. “Says the woman who’s wearing stolen property.”
My eyes dip to my favorite hoodie—Dallas’s hoodie.
“It’s not stolen, you gave it to me.”
She smirks and shrugs as she picks up speed. It’s late afternoon now. Rose doesn’t have classes on Fridays, so we’ve spent most of the day mooching around town, catching up without feeling the rush of city life behind us.
Now, as we race down a quiet and somewhat deserted path that runs along the edge of the ranch, my nose fills with an earthy scent that I kind of love. It almost, almost smells like the sweater I’m wearing when Rose first handed it to me months ago.
I jerk when she makes a sharp turn that seems to be away from Wilder’s house.
“Slow down. Where are we going anyway?”
“I have to show you something before you go.”
Frowning, I look ahead, my eyes gently stinging from the wind. The gravel crunches under the tires as we round a row of trees. Then I see it, rising out of the landscape like something out of a western movie.
The house sits just above a steep slope along the river. An empty wraparound porch stretching wide. Floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting the deep rose-gold sunset and faint shimmer from the river.
A silent breath is knocked out of me. What is this place? Does someone live here? It’s positively . . . well, breathtaking.
I snap myself out of it with a few blinks, sucking air back into my lungs. “Let me guess,” I start, trying to sound unimpressed. “Dallas’s house?”
She nods and hops out. “Come on. It’s empty and unlocked.”
I jump out and follow her up the front steps. “Who would leave this place unlocked?”
I step behind her through the double wooden doors.
There’s no entryway. It opens up into a vast living space with high ceilings and exposed beams. A large fireplace runs along the far-right wall, an impressive staircase separating the living room from what looks like a sleek, modern kitchen.
The living room is dark despite the big windows—probably due to the sun setting on the other side of the house.
The kitchen, on the other hand, bleeds a warm glow from the overhead skylight.
Like honey on glass, it stretches across the white tile floor and countertops.
I’m still spinning at the details of the unfinished beauty.
“Needs some TLC, but you’re right . . . this place is .
. . something else,” I whisper, words falling out in a hush as my eyes trail up the stairs, picturing the little girl looking for her slippers in the early morning. “Think Ellie will like it?”
When Rose doesn’t respond, I turn to find her leaning against the stair rail, arms crossed, staring at me. “You don’t have a flight back today, do you?”
“No,” I admit with a sigh, hating that I had to lie to my friend. “I saw your messages with Wilder the other day.”
She hooks a hand around the stair post and spins in a slow circle, all charm and glow, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. My stomach flips with delight for her. “I figured. That’s why I brought you here.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Here? I don’t follow.”
“Look, you’re not staying at the Inn when this place is completely empty, and Dallas is gone through Sunday. Why let all this go to waste?”
My eyes dance around the space. “And where do you propose I sleep?”
“Don’t worry about it. Dallas spends the night all the time when he’s working on the house.”
I bite my bottom lip. “And no one will mind?”
She rolls her eyes. “No one will know.”
I shake my head at her. “You really are a wild one.”
She gives me a mischievous grin. “Come on, it’s still early. Let’s grab some dinner in town and I’ll bring you back here later.”