“It’s a deal.” Josie slapped the table, ending the conversation as effectively as a judge slamming his gavel down. “Now! Enough serious talk. Do you like to cook? Everyone will be back soon, and Dee likes to lord over the grill, but if you want to help me with the extras I’d appreciate it.”
“I love to cook. Just point me in the right direction,” Maria said, beaming at the other woman.
“Good, and if we’re lucky, Stacie will make it back in time for dinner.”
Maria’s smile widened into a pleased grin. That news was an unexpected bonus, one worth driving home after dark for.
Chapter Five
Stacie was exhausted. The last five days were a blurred mix of driving, back to back pages, and some of the most frustrating injuries she was expected to treat. It was getting dark and she was filthy after spending several hours removing barbwire from Joe McMurthy’s prize mare’s hind legs. Her hand ached along the thumb pad and her forearm practically screamed from the careful nipping she had to do. She shook her head and snorted, not in amusement but in tired acceptance of the strangeness of her job. Only in her profession would part of a medical kit include wire cutters.
“God, I hate barbwire,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck roughly. She needed a couple of aspirin herself after that, a killer migraine was threatening to make an appearance and she was one set of high beams away from pulling over and just giving in to a roadside nap.
She hated driving at dusk, that time before day and night where the sky seemed determined to eat up whatever light it could. The trucks headlights were on but they weren’t doing a damn thing to help. Crappy county maintenance, she thought. Maybe if they’d painted new lines on the road ahead of her sometime in the last century, she could at least follow them rather than wait until her tires beat out a rhythm to the “dummy buttons” along the divider whenever the truck strayed too far towards the center.
Gratitude and relief flooded through her entire body when she finally turned off the main road and onto the gravel drive leading home. Large oaks dotted the purple landscape, shining ghostly white as she passed and casting odd shadows that danced through the dry summer grasses waving in the soft breeze. It was warm tonight. Her window was down so she could enjoy the feel of the dry summer air caressing her cheeks and forehead. As she approached the Y split that separated her place from the main gates to the Flying S, the wind tossed a new scent through the truck cab. Tired and ready for a shower and bed, her stomach awoke and rumbled violently at the smell of food wafting down from Dee and Josie’s place. The truck lurched to a stop. Stacie sat and contemplated whether to go left or right. The diesel engine idled around her, its deep bass growl unnaturally loud in the surrounding quiet.
She eyed the dark lane ahead of her, contemplating her options. Now that she smelled food, her body seemed to rebel, coring out a hollow spot low in her belly that reminded her that she had nothing more than a bowl of ice cream for lunch. After a moment’s hesitation, she turned the truck towards home, away from the lights and sounds coming from the main house. She needed a shower. Food could wait.
A small blessing in the form of the porch light made her life easier. Immensely glad that she didn’t have to stumble around in the dark in order to unlock the door, Stacie mentally happy danced her way to the door, only to find a piece of paper tucked into the frame.
“Well, crap,” she muttered, squinting to read the note in the dim yellow light.
*
It was amazing how refreshing a long, hot shower could be. Stacie had stripped off her work clothes and deposited the smelly, dirty mess straight into the washing machine before jogging for the bathroom, arms crossed and goose bumps running up her arms until she dived under the needle like barrage of water she had turned up to scalding temperatures.
It was becoming so much of a daily ritual that she was thinking about leaving a house robe in the laundry room. There was no way she was going to tramp through the house with horse poop, cow poop, snot, and God knows what else she got into during the day clinging to her clothes, but after looking down at her arms, she realized that naked might be the only way to go.
“Good thing I live alone,” she said, wiping down the mirror with a spare towel. She leaned forward and stared at her reflection. Longish blonde hair, dark from the shower, clung to her forehead and hung heavily down her back. She ran her palm down her stomach, noting how much paler she was there than her forearm. It had been ages since she had taken a day off and just sat out in the back yard and soaked up some sun. Her favorite spot down on Miller’s creek sprang into her thoughts. The flat, wide outcropping that slipped down towards a drop off had a deep pool that was as black as night. She and Josie used to go there and swim, then lie there for hours while they dried off. Josie never lasted as long as she did. She was pale of the pink and toasty variety, burning to a crisp if she didn’t cover up, unlike Stacie. Josie used to joke that she was allergic to the sun, and over the years, she had abandoned those summer activities for “mom” type things. Taking the kids to games, teaching them how to ride…all done from under the safety of a wide brimmed hat that
