Page 30 of Wild Heart
She’s lit up my world and recharged my heart.
After the dough has rested and tenderly been rolled into balls by her light touch, they’re baked to a golden color of perfection. Summer slides the tray free from the oven and pops them on a wire rack to cool. Of course they taste amazing, they have her effort poured inside each one.
Wild Hearts Ranch has the touch of a woman again. My dad can feel it, and I can too.
15
Monday slips into Friday.
Hayden works on the ranch all day without the need to visit the house. I wonder if he’s purposefully avoiding me, or if the guy doesn’t take a break - ever. He’s so mature and dedicated, whereas I’m... not. We’re a match made in lust. It couldn’t be anything other than that because we’re incompatible. I don’t mind messy - he needs order. I’d rather laze on his bed watching reruns of Friends, and he’d rather be outside working. Or maybe he likes Friends too, who knows?
I’m actually pretty darn accomplished these days, from learning how to whip a rag over surfaces and polish to alustrousshine. That’s the lingo Carol the cleaning goddess uses - a lustrous lacquer. I follow her guidance and quick tips now. Makes a change from makeup artists and models. Her step-by-step instructions on how to turn on a Hoover and empty the grey fluff into the ‘trash’ is nothing short of genius. I read one article where she reminded me to move furniture because there’s a heap of dirt underneath. Who knew? Mother would be so proud of me, if she had the time to check in.
Star scampers into the sitting room, all bouncy and loving in a blur of fur and licks. This is her routine, and mine too, I guess. In the mornings she accompanies Hayden, learning the ropes of a ranch dog, and in the afternoons I’m the one who sets out her food and refreshes the water bowl, stealing cuddles on the sofa alone together. I’ve never had a pet before, even though I begged my father for a pony when I was nine. A pony wasn’t an option, with zero return on investment.
I venture into his bedroom while Star wolfs down her kibble, for no other reason than to shine up the shower room. His bed is so inviting with that subtle whiff of masculine sexiness. Thinking twice, I throw caution to the wind and dive onto the blankets. I roll across his massive comfy bed and lie on my back like a starfish. Sighing loudly, with dented pride, recognizing he doesn’t want me in his bed, period, I turn onto my side and study the items decorating his room.
A framed picture of a youthful Hank, a blonde woman and two dark-haired young boys sits close to the window. I hadn’t noticed it before, but now that I do, I take my time to study the happy faces. The taller of the two boys’ grins with mischief whereas the slightly smaller boy looks serious with the same contemplative eyes as Hayden.
Scratchy nails on wooden floorboards announce the arrival of my Star. She trots into the room, sniffing and searching. “Up here, girl!” I push off the bed, lowering down to rub her face. Scooping her up into my arms, I sidle over to the picture. “Even as a kid, he was handsome. Don’t you think?” My sigh agitates the hair on her little head. “Why do I have to fancy my boss?” Star nudges my arm. “Just wait until you meet Ellie. I’ll video chat her later.” Gently squeezing Star, a flurry of emotions burst inside my chest. Since I’ve been here, all I’ve felt are emotions. Lustful, happy, heartwarming, gratitude - I’ve felt more alive in the last week than I have in the last year alone.
Wandering to the adjoining bathroom, I set Star at the foot of the basin and get ready to wipe it down. My eye is drawn to a packet of pink rubber gloves, size small, propped beside a bottle of toilet cleaner. I smile instantly, and a blast of air shoots down my nose. My laugh settles inward, and I gaze around the room noting brand new pink towels, two bottles of papaya shampoo and a luxurious cream body wash. Stunned, I spin around to find a pearly bathrobe hung on the back of the door beside his. He did all this for me. I almost float off the ground with delight or joy or pure shock. There are perks of the job, and then there’s ‘His and Hers’ matching bathrobes and a stack of girly towels in the guy’s bathroom.
I have to make him some of our cookies, so he’ll come back to the ranch with the smell of hominess and gratitude. He taught me well. His mother’s recipe book sits on the shelf in the kitchen, and there are still plenty of ingredients left.
Mixing everything together and waiting for the mixture to settle, I quickly slice up the dough and pop them on parchment. I can quite happily say that I’m a professional baker now, a new talent to take home with me. As that thought drifts into my head, a stutter spooks my heart rate. I have to go back home soon. I don’t live here. This isn’t my home.
I sit at the table, stroking Star as the oatmeal browns. The kitchen is filled with the aroma of cinnamon. Why do I have such a strong connection to this place?
A horn double honks. I recognize the tone, and it’s not Hayden, so I whip out the cookies and set them on the rack by the window. Star barks when the horn honks again. I dash outside into the heat to find Sawyer waiting in his rusty truck. “Time to go.” His arm rests on the open window, and his palm slaps the outside of the door. “There’s work to be done at home.” I like how he refers to it as home, as if it’s our home.
“But I’m looking after the pup.” I lift Star to the sky and play dance with her.
“Bring her. We’ll drop her back once we’ve added the new part to the truck.”
“Okay, I’ll leave a note.”
16
I selfishly hopeSummer will be in the house when I walk in earlier than normal, but she doesn't answer after I call her name. The familiar smell of cinnamon carries down the hall from the kitchen. I love that smell, but not as much as I adore the taste of her forbidden tongue.
The house is empty, with only a rack of cookies cooling on the counter. I’ve missed that sight, and now she’s blended my past and present, with her as the wooden spoon.
Disappointment laces relief. I’ve kept my distance this week. Today will be another day I don’t have to hide my crazy crush. She’s been oblivious to the guy watching her come and go every day this week, admiring her from afar. I’m no fucking coward, it’s just the right thing to do. The practical decision for her sake, and mine.
I longed to chat with her, to ask if she liked the new towels, to find out if she liked living in Heartville, to determine if there was ever a chance she would consider a life here. Deep down, I knew better.
Then it hit me - Star. There was no over excited welcome, playful bark or tiny scurrying claws begging for my attention.
“Dammit!” The kitchen is empty. Maybe she’s napping at the bottom of my bed. It’s my own fault for falling asleep with her there, almost every night. “Star?” There’s no sign of her, only dented sheets like she had tried my bed and moved on. I refrain from slapping my forehead when I mentally change the color of golden hair to jet black like Summers.
Silence. No Summer and no Star. Panic whirls inside me. What if she left the door open, and Star ran free, currently darting about the fields, miles from home, lost and alone. My knees weaken.
Breathing deeply, I focus on a plan. First of all, I’ll drive to Sawyer’s place and see if Star hitched a ride with Summer. While I’m on the road, I’ll scan the fields for floppy puppy ears. Right that second, I hated myself for letting Clay emotionally blackmail me. I told him I didn’t want another dog. I told him I didn’t have time for all this stress. He knew I didn’t want to replace my sweet Rosie. But that’s exactly what I did, and now my dog is missing.
The Ford tires spew up gravel, taking no prisoners on the road to Sawyer’s. Tearing up the dirt track, the vehicle jerks to a stop, and I jump out like a demon.
“Hayden.” I hear her voice, but I don’t see her. Scanning the junkyard, I look left and pinpoint her instantly, with my dog sleeping in the shade close to her feet. “I was going to drop Star back later. You didn't need to come all the way out here.”
