Her voice broke the silence, startling me. It was the first full sentence she’d spoken in days. Her hair was in a bun, as it had been every day. The bun was part of the reason I was out working this hard. I’d promised to wash her hair. It’d been too long, and I knew she had to be self-conscious about it.
“It’s a surprise,” I said, meeting her eyes and forcing her to hold my gaze.
She glared suspiciously.“I hate surprises, especially the kind you pull.”
I chuckled.“I promise it won’t disappoint.”
She hummed.“We’ll see.” Brushing past me, she shut herself in the bathroom.
With a mug of coffee, I went back to the shed and got a hose. I walked uphill again, connected the hose to the pump, and turned it on, pleased when the water flowed without issue.
Back in the shed, I sipped my coffee while the stock tank filled. When the copper pipe openings submerged under the surface of the water, I gathered firewood and started a fire in the wood stove, getting it nice and hot. I ran a test on the setup by putting my hand in the tub, holding it over the drilled valves. To my delight, I could feel the water flowing in one hole and out the other, now warmed by the pipe wrapped around the fire flue.
The convection heater was doing its job, and the water in the tub was gradually heating. Soon, she’d be able to enjoy an actual bath. While I waited for the tub to finish filling, which felt like a lifetime, I found a broom and swept the shed floor. After the cement was as clean as it would get with a broom, I tidied up some of the nearby shelves, organizing the mess I knew she wouldn’t like. With some spare wood, I then hammered together a simple bench and put it next to the tub, hoping to create a spot for soaps, a towel, and a robe.
Finally, with the tub full, I checked the water temperature. It felt around seventy degrees at this point. Close. I stoked the fire and left again to make some lunch and bake the bread.
“Come with me,” I said to Betty after a lunch of cheese, bread, and a salad.
I had a towel and robe tucked under an arm and a bag of soaps in the other hand.
She eyed me and the items in my hands warily.“I’m not going into the river.”
I tilted my head.“Come on, trust me.”
She snorted.
I reached for her hand, but she immediately crossed her arms, shutting me out. I let my hand fall.“Please, just come with me,” I pleaded.
With a heavy sigh and arms locked around her, she gave in, shoving her feet into her work boots by the door. She followed me off the porch and down to the shed.
I stepped inside, went to the far wall, and flipped on the newly hung overhead string lights—the last part of the surprise.
She eventually shuffled in behind me and stopped.
I held a hand out toward the now steaming tank of water.“Your spa, dear Buttercup.”
The rear of the room was noticeably warmer with the fire going, which would make changing clothes more pleasant.
Stubborn as ever, her expression was struggling to remain placid, yet I could see her carefully constructed facade was about to crumble. There was a distinct twinkle in her eye; she couldn’t hide it.
“A bathtub?” she asked.
I nodded.
She eyed me, trying not to smile, though her visible pleasure was growing.“Really? Was this what you were building?”
“I promised I’d help you wash your hair,” I said.
“Oh, sure,” she scoffed to hide the smile, letting her arms fall from where she’d crossed them, a hip cocked out.“And I’m just going to strip down naked and let you wash my hair, am I?”
I shrugged.
She chuckled.“Oh, you wish, asshole. I’ll take a bath, don’t get me wrong, but definitely not with you around, thank you.”
I knew I wouldn’t be so lucky.“It was worth a try.” I shrugged, placing the towel, robe, and soap on the bench.
“No cameras in here, right?” she added.
