The cabin falls completely silent.
I stare at the ceiling briefly as memories of last night flood my mind.
Then I slowly roll over onto his side of the bed.
The pillow he was using is still warm.
I pull it into my arms and hug it to my chest, burying my face against it.
It smells like him.
My chest tightens again.
No more just Harleigh and just Porter.
We’re already back to Mr. Garrison and Miss Storm.
I sigh softly into the pillow.
A little ping of sadness tries to creep in, but I shove it away before it can settle in.
Because if I’m being honest …
Just Harleigh had one hell of a good night.
And judging by the ache in my muscles, I’d say just Porter did too.
With that comforting thought, I snuggle deeper under the quilt.
And drift back to sleep.
I gather up the scattered pieces of clothing from the floor—my pants, my bustier, and jacket.
I get dressed quickly and strip the sheets from the bed, bundling them together, along with the towels from the tiny bathroom.
I slip my boots back on and step outside.
The ranch is quiet.
The early afternoon sun sits low over the pastures.
I make my way toward the ranch house.
Daddy’s truck isn’t in the driveway.
Good.
That means he and my grandparents have already left for church.
I hurry across the yard with my bundle of laundry and slip through the front door.
I step through the mudroom and spot Charli and Shelby standing in the kitchen. I keep moving down the hallway toward the laundry room.
Charli’s eyes catch me.
“Morning, sunshine,” she calls after me.
I keep walking. “Morning.”
