Bonnie
Chapter Thirteen
I slept so well. The best rest I’d had in a long time, which should not have been the case.
I’d stepped out of the life I was born to almost without a backward glance.
Opening the closet in the room I’d been given, I found it filled with clothes.
Clothes with tags. Brand new. I’d only ever had one dress with tags before.
One thing I was sure was actually new, even though it had come from the thrift store. Tags were the stuff of dreams.
I really should go back to the cabin, let Marie know I had moved out and collect my clothes, but I didn’t want to.
I had a job now and could buy my own second-hand items. But I hoped the alphas, my new bosses, wouldn’t mind if I borrowed a set of clothing for today.
My other outfit was dirty, and the things in the closet were so pretty, I couldn’t resist. A quick exploration of the dresser turned up bras and panties and socks, also new and with tags.
The luxury of it all. Since I was working for them, I could just pay them back or have them take the cost out of my earnings. They would still have to be cash, since I had no way to open a bank account without some sort of ID—which I understood I could only get with a birth certificate.
Even if I could get one, I feared that the pack I came from needed to remain in the dark regarding my existence.
Hopefully they assumed I’d died. What Marie told me about my past, I believed her, even if I maybe shouldn’t have.
She had lied to me every day of my entire life, but when I demanded the truth, she had spilled it.
So, I could probably keep my money under the bed for the time being, and maybe a fake ID was in my future.
Carrying my clothes, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower.
I’d showered the night before, but after bathing in the river or with a damp cloth, the spray felt incredible.
I used all the products in the shower. Bath gels and scrubs, a loofa, shampoo and two kinds of conditioners guaranteed to deal with any frizzy strands.
It smelled like flowers in there, but I could still sense the alphas’ scents.
They all smelled similar but different. Outdoorsy, woods and water, but I had yet to learn how to separate them from one another.
The whole house held their scent and I didn’t hate it at all.
After my shower, I spent a long time drying and brushing out my hair. I still had no makeup, but that would come in time. Heading downstairs, I found Dallas and Archer at the kitchen table, drinking coffee.
“Good morning, omega,” Dallas said, jumping up and pulling out a chair next to him. “How did you sleep?"
“So well.” I sat down and he pushed the chair and me back in. What a gentleman. The guys in old movies always did that, and I’d always thought it was romantic. But I was here for work, not romance, so I accepted a cup of coffee and a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs. But they were so orange.
“Are these chicken eggs?” I took a tentative bite. “Oh my goddess.”
“You don’t like them?” Archer looked so distressed, I rushed to reassure him. “It’s not that. I’ve just never seen eggs this color.”
“It’s because we give them good feed and let them scratch all around. Our hens are treated like superstars.” Dallas grinned at Archer. “And our chef makes them extra good with cream and salt and pepper and possibly a little grated cheese.”
“Your chef is excellent.” I accepted a slice of toast and spread it with butter and blueberry jam. “So, what is my first task today and where is Justice?”
“He’s working—he’s in cybersecurity—and I’m leaving for the store in a few minutes.” Dallas buttered his toast as well then bit in with a crunch, those big white teeth really catching the light. “You’re going to have to put up with Archer, who we count on to keep things running around here.”
“Ha ha.” Archer slid into the seat across from us. “One second, you’re complimenting me and the next, teasing. Very funny.”
“I’m sorry.” Dallas didn’t look sorry at all. “But anyway, Archer takes care of the homestead more than the rest of us, and he can give you a real serious tour and assign you some tasks you can start in a few days or whenever you feel rested. Sound good?”
“Mostly. The part that doesn’t is lazing around until I feel rested. I’m rested. Use me.”
The tour took the rest of the morning. While their sleuth lands were not large, they were beautiful and well taken care of, the chickens clucking cheerfully when approached. A little goat nudge had me giving him pats, and the garden was coming in strong.
“That’s something I can help with,” I told him. “I hope it’s organic.”
“Is there any other kind? If I want pesticides, I can get them at the market. Now, over here is the tool shed where we keep everything basically. But it’s very organized, so just put things back where you found them, all right?”
“Absolutely. If you don’t have anything else to show me, I noticed that the garden is a little weedy. Would it be all right if I start with that?”
He left me on my hands and knees in the soft soil, carefully pulling weeds from around the little plants.
It was such pleasant work. I tried to garden when I was younger, but the shade from all the trees stunted everything and I gave up.
Each of these would grow up to give us some sort of food.
The rows didn’t have tags, and I didn’t have enough experience to tell them apart, but I would learn.
I would make our garden the best I possibly could.