Most of the time, I’m paired with Austin or Tobes or both of them. It makes the work days shorter because we’re always joking around and having fun. Although Toby has developed a habit of stopping by to check on us–or me–when he’s doing other things. Austin just laughs it off when it happens, but a small part of me wonders if I'm not doing my job right. I knowI'm not slacking off, I work my butt off day in, day out. It’s in my blood.
But the idea that I’m not doing something right keeps nagging at me. At the end of the day, I figure that Red or Rhett, or maybe even Toby will tell me if they’re not happy. Until something is said, then I’m trying not to focus on it.
The bigger problem for me is that I like Tobes. Probably more than I usually would like a boss. I’m just not sure thisconnectionor whatever it is we have is something we should act on. Mybodyseems to think so because every time I see him or inadvertently touch him, my pulse goes haywire, my hairs stand on end, and it’s as if a jolt of energy has been catapulted through me. I'd say it's like I get giddy around him, but that would be a bit childish, wouldn’t it?What twenty-eight-year-old woman gets butterflies just laying eyes on a man?
I came to Alaska for an adventure. When I accepted this job, I definitely didn't expect to meet someone who makes my body forget how to function.
Which is being proven to be true right now because instead of being at Star's 'Bridal Bonanza' shower being thrown by Cora, Mags, and the Sallys at Sunshine Farm, I’m in bed exhausted and feeling under the weather. I started feeling bone-tired around lunch time and Rhett and Red took one look at me and told me to have the rest of the day off.
When I called Star to apologize, she told me that I might just be exhausted and that she’d much rather I rested for Saturday’s ‘shindig’. "I need my girls with me on Saturday with their dancin’ shoes on and their bridezilla-wieldin’ weapons ready. I'd much rather you be there for me then, than tonight if you're not feelin’ well," she said.
Now it’s hours later and I’m feeling a bit better but overall, I’m stilloff. My body feels heavy and hypersensitive. Try as I might though, I haven’t been able to sleep because I can’t switch my brain off. So instead of sleeping, I’m laying on top of my bed in the bunkhouse with my favorite 'Beary Sleepy' PJs on, fluffy white thermal socks on my feet, the lights turned low, and with my Kindle in my hand.
My mother and my grandmother before her were avid romance readers. Gran would read the good ol’ bodice rippers with their Fabio-esque heroes on the covers. Mom started reading those before moving onto Danielle Steele and Jilly Cooper. Therefore it’s not that unexpected that I’m also a bookworm and have been since my early teens. Recently I’ve started reading a new-to-me author called Aster Hollingsworth.
The most ironic thing is that she writes ‘crazy mountain prophesy romances that I can’t get enough of. They’re all based around a matchmaking mountain spirit that’s been awakened deep inside an Alaskan mountain range and who rewards the protectors of her land with their soulmates. It’ssucha romantic, totally unbelievable notion that you just wish was real. I’ve already binge-read her first two series and now I’m moving on to the next mountain.
I’m just reading about a dancer moving to a small town when a knock at my bunkhouse door breaks the silence. “Come in.”
Toby pops his head in with his hand over his eyes and a small smile on his dial.
"Hey," he says softly. "You decent?"
"Yes, Tobes. Your poor, innocent eyes are safe. Not sure I’d tell ‘ya to come in if I was naked." He drops his makeshift blindfold and opens the door wider.
“Well there was thatonetime you asked me out on a date just so I’d save you from the clutches of a certain duck villain,” he says with a grin.
I snort and shake my head. “Mmm, hmm. Sure.That’swhat happened.”
Leaning his shoulder against the frame, his concerned hazel eyes meet mine. "How you feelin' anyway?"
I place my Kindle facedown on the nightstand and I pull myself up so my back is against the headboard. "I'm OK. I’m thinkin’ my body is wavin’ the white flag of surrender after a long week. It happens sometimes. A good night's sleep and bit of a mental recharge and I'll be right as rain tomorrow mornin'."
"That's real good to hear," he says, sounding so sincere it warms my heart. “I just wanted to check in on you and figured I'd bring up some supper for you since Big Bad Red banished you to bed." Just as he says that, my stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud grumble and I realize it's been a long time since lunch. "Sounds like I'm right on time."
I giggle, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Not sure that hebanishedme, exactly, but thank you. I can just go get it and–"
"Nuh-uh," he replies, shaking his head. "You stay there and I'll bring it to you. I left it in the kitchenette just in case you were sleepin’." Before I can argue again, he pushes off the doorway and disappears.
That feeling inside whenever I'm near Toby? It's swelling big time right now. Likewhoosh, there goes my stomach flipping. Flap, flap, flap, there are the butterflies swarming. And now there’s a new one to add to the list…thump. thump. thump.That’s my heart punching my sternum in a ‘knock knock. Wake up’ gesture.
Moments later, he's back carrying a tray of food in his arms and instead of racing, my heart melts because he looks a little unsure of what to do next.
"You can come in, you know. I promise I won't bite and I'm not contagious or anythin’. Unless you think bein' tired is catchin'?"
I see him visibly relax but there’s also a glint of something else in his gaze that tells me he’s not here for a casual chat. Needing to cheer him up–or distract him, I’m not sure which–I decide to change the subject. "Why aren't you out livin' it up, or whatever you Graham brothers do two days before a weddin'?"
I lift a forkful of Chicken pot pie to my lips, closing my eyes and moaning happily as the flaky crust and tasty filling melt in my mouth. Toby chuckles softly and takes a seat at the end of my bed.
"Well, I thought about it," he begins, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief. "But then I remembered that my favorite ranch hand was feelin' unwell and decided it was my duty to bring her food and be at her beck and call. You know, just in case."
I laugh, the sound bubbling out of me effortlessly. This man seems to have the natural ability to make people smile. He may be the life of the party, always cracking jokes and bringing joy to those around him, but no matter what, he’s also someone you know will always be there.
It's an admirable quality and definitely an attractive one. He wants to make those close to him feel better when they're low–or in my case, tired. It's one of the things I've noticed that everyone here appreciates about him. He has a heart of gold and he feels deep, but underneath all the joking bravado there's a hint of vulnerability that makes you want to wrap him up and reassure him. It's an intriguing dichotomy.
"You didn't have to do this," I say, gesturing to the tray. "But I'm real grateful you did because it’s delicious. Who was on cookin' duty tonight?"
An uncharacteristic bashful smile appears on his face. "That’d be me. It's one of our favorite dishes that Mom used to make. She gave us a leather-bound book with handwritten recipes when we moved here." He waves his hand in the air. "Anyway, I know what it's like to be bone-tired and still push yourself because you feel you have to. I just wanted to do somethin' to maybe show you that we not only appreciate everythin' you've done since you arrived but also let you know that you’re part of the ranch now, part of the family too, so there’s nothin’ to prove. You’re just one of us now and I hope you know that."
