“Thanks for bringing those in, Cal, sweetie. There are some morning glory muffins on the counter. Take some with you when you head out.”
“Of course, thank you,” I replied as I kissed her on top of herhead. “I’ll let myself out and lock up behind me. Good night, Gram. See you tomorrow.”
I made my way upstairs with the bags and set them down to quietly knock on the door. I waited, but just as I was about to lift my hand to knock again, I heard the light sound of snoring. She must’ve really been exhausted to have crashed out that quickly.
I only planned to open the door slightly to place her bags inside, but when I saw her sleeping on top of the covers with the lights on, my breath caught in my chest. Grandma wasn’t wrong, she was gorgeous. Her dark hair flowed like a waterfall over the pillow, her pale skin almost blended in with the cream of the pillowcases, and her small frame was practically being swallowed by the huge bed.
But it wasn’t her dark lashes, her soft lips, or any part of her breathtaking appearance that I noticed first. It was how she clutched that blanket and trembled while she whimpered in her sleep. It wasn’t snoring I heard beyond the door, but the sounds of her laboured breaths. The stains of her tears tracked lines down her cheeks.
The feeling hit me like a splash of ice water. I suddenly knew I was in the wrong and I shouldn’t be in here. She could wake up at any moment and I’d only make matters worse, terrifying the poor woman when she obviously needed solace. She couldn’t have come to a better place if that’s what she needed. But I also couldn’t leave her shaking like that.
I grabbed one of the quilts Gram made off the reading chair in the corner, and quietly walked back over to the bed, carefully laying the thick blanket on top of her and flicking off the light as I left.
Whoever she was, whatever she was running away from, I hoped she could catch her breath here.
The smell of burned meat assaulted my senses as I braced myself for impact.
“How fucking incompetent can one person be?” Anger laced his tone, something I should be used to by now, but every single time I heard it, it shook me to my core. “Absolutely fucking useless. Aren’t you going to say something?”
The plate shattering on the counter next to me didn’t even compare to the shards of my heart I desperately tried to piece back together time and time again.
“I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered, and quickly tried to explain myself. “You wanted salmon, and it was my first time making it. I wasn’t sure how high to have the heat and didn’t realize it would cook so quickly?—”
His eyes darkened and his laugh cut off my ramblings. That wasn’t a laugh that soothed me, though—that laugh meant it was all my fault.
Rightfully so, I should have known better, I should have practiced while he was still at work, I shouldn’t have made thiskind of mistake.
My thoughts were cut off by the abrupt force of his palm against my face?—
I gasped as I sat up in bed, my hand instinctively coming to my cheek.
I struggled and failed to take in a full breath of air, finding my body tense and my hands still grasping the blanket like I clutched the oven mitt in my dream. My brain was desperate to get out of the flight or fight mode.
“Deep breaths,” I mumbled, focusing on the counts of my inhales and exhales as I took in the surroundings of my room. Big bed, cozy blankets, stocked bookshelves, vintage lamps. This wasn’t my room.
Then the last forty-eight hours came back to me.Whispers of Love.
Not burned meat.I took in one more calming deep breath.
“Bacon.” My mouth watered, and instantly the hunger pains kicked in. Realizing I had nothing but coffee and protein bars during the almost nineteen-hour drive yesterday had my eyes searching for my bags, finding them lined up against the wall near the door.
Making a mental note to extend my thanks to Trixie and Calvin for bringing in my bags, I went straight for my suitcase that held my makeup bag and bypassed the totes completely. That’s a job for another day.
I couldn’t even remember what I had thrown in them during my panic-packing, but decided it didn’t matter as I took in the expanse of the bathroom. It had to be as big as the bedroom with a showeranda large soaker tub. I almost wanted to grab a book off the shelves right then and there to jump in the tub with, but the turning in my stomach reminded me that food was the priority.
My eyes were still slightly puffy as I took stock of my appearance in the mirror; however, the bags beneath them had faded. I couldn’t remember the last time I slept through the night.Granted, it wasn’t exactly a peaceful sleep with those nightmares raging my subconscious, but I’d take that over the real thing any day.
“Good morning, dear! How was your sleep?” Trixie greeted as I descended the stairs into the open-concept kitchen and dining room.
Even her voice washed a wave of comfort over me that was far more refreshing than the shower I had just taken. She was once again wearing a brightly coloured dress—pink this time—with an apron over top that had yellow lemons all over it. I wondered if I would still see those lemons by the end of the day, or if they’d be covered in stains like her apron was yesterday.
“It was great, thank you. Gosh, it smells amazing in here.” My stomach rumbled as I eyed the array of food. It seemed Trixie had set out a buffet for a dozen people, but it was only her and one other woman in the kitchen.
“Hi, I’m Vicky,” the woman introduced herself. “Trixie’s daughter.”
I glanced back and forth between the two women who were both smiling, but that was about where the similarities ended. Where Trixie was short and seemed to have a deep understanding of the ground beneath her feet, Vicky was like the air that floated above it—tall, bright and elegant with her reddish blonde hair that would rival the sun’s golden hour.
“Well, daughter-in-law, technically.” Vicky corrected, while giving Trixie a warm smile. “But family is family,”
