“Well, don’t you three look…” Genevieve looked up from the computer in the corner of the kitchen as we tromped through the door. “…colorful.”
I was so exhausted I could barely lift my feet.
I might have said something that came out sounding like, “Gahungh.”
“Don’t even start, Gen,” Ty said as he set his Yankees cap—the only part of his wardrobe that wasn’t caked in mud—on the counter. “That Buttercup is a slippery girl.”
Eddie, whose mud didn’t rise above knee level because he’d insisted on keeping the camera clean—I’d insisted he was a wuss, but he hadn’t risen to the bait—set the precious camera down next to Ty’s cap. “But she makes for good television.”
I could only imagine. The footage of me, diving headfirst after a cow and winding up slip-sliding through a mud puddle—that was Emmy-winning material.
“Are you okay, Cassie?” Genevieve asked.
I focused my energy on forming words. “I’m tiree. So very tired.” I was hungry, too, but the tired part definitely won out. “I think I’ll just head to bed early.”
So what if the sun hadn’t even set yet. It was my first day as a cowgirl. I had earned some slack.
“Why don’t you take a bath?” she suggested. “There’s a huge claw-foot in the master bedroom. That always soaks my day away.”
“That“—oh my sweet bubble bath—“sounds amazing.”
“Come on,” she said, getting up from the computer and heading for the stairs. “I’ll show you were everything is.”
As I followed Genevieve up to the second floor, my legs muscles cried every step of the way.
“Ranch work is harder than I thought,” I said as we reached the top. “My city girl body wasn’t prepared.”
“It’s a hard life,” she agreed. “But it’s the only one I’ve ever known. I’m sure I wouldn’t make it two minutes in the big city.” She pushed open the door at the end of the hall. “The miracle tub is in here.”
When Genevieve suggested the bath, I had assumed the room was hers. But as I take in the plain blue bedding, the belts and clothes draped over nearly every surface, and the smell of leather and something spicy in the air, I know this is a man’s bedroom.
“Don’t look at the mess,” she complained as we crossed the room. “Boys. I’ve given up trying to keep it clean. I make him shut the door so I don’t have to see it.”
I hurried through the room. It felt too much like an invasion to be in his bedroom.
“I have to hide the bubble bath.” Genevieve opened the cabinet under the sink and reached into the back before pulling out a bottle of lime green liquid.
“He doesn’t like seeing it?” I asked.
“No,” she said, handing me the bottle. “He likes using it. This stuff is too expensive to waste as body wash.”
I laughed, taking the bottle of bubble bath from her. “Thanks. I won’t use too much.”
“Use as much as you like. It’s nice having a girl around and besides…” She gave me a look halfway between a smile and a frown. “You look like you could use it.”
I didn’t have to look down at my mud-covered body to know that I looked like a disaster area. My nose had gotten used to it, but I was sure I smelled just as lovely.
“Thanks,” I said as Genevieve started to leave.
At the door, she turned back. “Tomorrow, you should borrow some of my work clothes.”
“No, that’s al—“ At that moment, I dropped my head and got a good look at the state of my clothes. No one looking at me then could have known I was wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt, and very expensive black shoes. All ruined. “Actually, that would be great.”
Genevieve smiled. “I’ll leave a set on your bed.”
She left, closing the bathroom behind her. A second later I heard the bedroom door close too. I was alone in the bathroom and the beautiful porcelain tub was calling to me.
Five minutes later, I was soaking away the aches and the mud in a steaming hot bath, inhaling the scent of lime and coconut, and pretending I was miles away on a tropical beach. Not that I’d ever been on a tropical beach, but I had seen pictures. My mind drifted, picturing white sands and blue waters, hearing the wash of the waves on the shore, smelling the salty sea…
The pounding woke me.
I lurched up in the tub and my heart raced in my chest.
More pounding. Well, knocking actually.
“Cassie, you in there?” Ty asked through the door.
“Yeah, I—“ My hands went instinctively over my chest, even though the door was still closed. All too aware of what I wasn’t wearing beneath the layer of foamy bubbles. “Is something wrong?”
“Sorry to intrude,” he said. “Gen’s out collecting from the chickens.”
“What?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t normally—“ He stopped and started again. “Gen should be the one to—“ Another hesitation. “You have a phone call.”
“Oh,” I said. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll be right down.”
Twisting myself up, I pulled the rubber plug from the tub drain and then grabbed the light blue towel I had set on the stool next to the bath. As the coconut lime bathwater swirled down the drain, I quickly dried off and wrapped the towel around my chest.
When I followed Genevieve into the bathroom, I hadn’t planned on going back downstairs. I hadn’t thought to have clothes waiting—I had been single-mindedly focused on sinking into a day-erasing bath. And, I realized as I crossed to the door, the magic bath had worked. My leg muscles weren’t nearly as angry anymore.
Now all I had to do was to sneak down the hall to my room and pull on my pajamas before—
“Aaack!”
My feet slipped out from under me as I reached for the door handle. Instinct took over, and somehow I managed to stay upright and keep my towel in place.
“Cassie?” Ty threw open the door. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I—“ I made a fluttering gesture with my free hand. “I slipped on the wet tile is all. I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?” he asked, as if not quite trusting my insistence. His bright blue eyes scanned over my thankfully-still-towel-covered body.
Every inch of my skin tingled.
“Positive,” I breathed.
“Here,” he said, stepping forward and wrapping a strong, warm hand around my upper arm, “let me help.”
He guided me onto the dry wood floor of the bedroom.
No one would ever accuse me of being a girly girl—but in that moment, standing in Ty’s bedroom with his hand on my arm and nothing but a towel to cover me, I had the most ridiculous urge to giggle.
“Thanks,” I said, stepping away before I did something stupid. “I’d better go…”
“Yeah, your phone call.”
I nodded and then headed for the door.
“Hey Cassie,” he said. When I looked back at him, he added, “Be careful.”
Good advice.
Be careful, Cassie. That way lies trouble and complication.
But moments later, as I hurried downstairs to take my phone call, I totally giggled. That advice might have come too late. Trouble had already arrived.
Andy's Playlist #7: Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy) by Big & Rich
Tune in tomorrow for the next installment.
