by Liz Isaacson
His mother always said not to say anything in those situations. This morning, right as Norah arrived, Sterling had texted Rex. Just a couple of words. Call you tonight. He still didn’t know what to say, but at least he didn’t feel like smashing something anymore.
He entered the stable to find several teenage boys feeding the horses. They looked at him and Norah, and Sterling was supremely glad he wasn’t holding her hand. Owen moved down the aisle, giving instructions. Another man stood near the end of the barn. Sterling couldn’t see his features, only his outline against the bright morning light.
“That’s Will,” she said. “He’s their counselor. So he makes sure the boys are up, and here on time, and that they listen to Owen and do a good job. Then he’ll take them to breakfast.”
“So that’s what you do? What I’ll be doing?” Sterling stepped up to a dark brown horse that had been fed already. The horse lifted its head and Sterling ran his hand along its cheek, stealing the much-needed calmness from the animal instead of Norah.
“Right.”
“Do counselors live on-site?” he asked. “What if the kids need something in the middle of the night?”
“There’s a night staff,” Norah said. “I’ve only been called in a couple of times during an emergency. It’s not bad.”
As Sterling continued through the stable, past a barn, and between rows of a half-dozen buildings, that same peaceful feeling that had permeated his soul last Saturday descended again. He probably should’ve asked more questions, been better prepared to start a job where a teen’s life was involved. But he felt so right about being at Silver Creek, the unknowns weren’t that important.
Norah entered the office building ahead of him and introduced him to the staff. A secretary named Shelly handed him a folder. “He’ll want you to sign all of that in front of him. He’s waiting for you.”
Sterling didn’t expect Norah to come into Dr. Richards’ office with him, but she did. And she closed the door behind her. A red flag lifted in Sterling’s mind. He glanced at Norah, but she shrugged one shoulder. She tapped something out on her phone, and his buzzed as he handed Dr. Richards the folder.
“Just set it there, yes.” Dr. Richards didn’t look away from his computer. “Just give me one minute….”
Sterling checked his phone. He asked me to come in with you. I don’t know why.
When? Sterling sent back.
Got a text from him this morning. Sorry, I forgot to tell you.
Sterling glanced at her, hoping his expression said, It’s okay, because Dr. Richards exhaled and leaned away from his computer and he couldn’t text. “So how are you guys this morning?”
“Great,” Sterling said. Norah said nothing, her face stoic and unreadable.
Dr. Richards flipped open the folder. “So for the next month, you’ll be working with Will. He’s the counselor that will be leaving. He’ll orient you to the facilities, the schedule, that kind of thing.” He slid a paper toward Sterling. “I need you to sign this. It says you won’t discuss the patient’s cases outside of the staff at Silver Creek.”
Sterling picked up a pen and put his signature on the page. He repeated it for several more as Dr. Richards told him he’d be working with Owen twice a week, as the at-risk boys generally benefitted the most from equine care and therapy.
“You’ll also be taking a Love and Logic course,” Dr. Richards said. “We’ve already paid for you and enrolled you in the course we host here. It’s on Thursday evenings.”
Sterling signed the enrollment paper, and Dr. Richards closed the folder. Confusion needled his mind. Why was Norah here?
Dr. Richards looked at her, and then back to Sterling. “I understand you two have been spending a lot of time together.”
Sterling fell back in his chair like he’d been punched, but Norah leaned forward. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“You went to dinner after the orientation. Someone said they saw you sitting together at church.”
Sterling’s eyebrows drew down. “She’s giving me a ride down here each day too.” He tapped his leg brace. “I haven’t been cleared to drive yet.”
“So you’re friends.” Dr. Richards somehow managed to watch both of them at the same time, and Sterling didn’t like the scrutiny.
He looked at Norah, slightly horrified. He definitely wanted to be more than friends with her. She blinked at him, clearly not expecting this conversation either.
“Yeah,” he finally said. “We’re friends.”
“Friends is fine.” Dr. Richards leaned forward, his face stern and serious. “Anything more than friends is against our policy here at Silver Creek.”
Norah started laughing, and Sterling couldn’t tell if it was maniacal or forced. Maybe both. “Don’t worry about that,” she told Dr. Richards, steadfastly keeping her gaze away from Sterling. “I clean Sterling’s family’s cabin.” She finally pinned him with a pointed look that stabbed, stabbed, stabbed right through his heart. “Our relationship is strictly professional.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Dr. Richards stood. “Well, Norah, I’m sure your girls are expecting you. And Sterling, Owen’s ready to show you the ins and outs of horse care.”
His words echoed in Sterling’s ears, combining with the damaging ones Norah had spoken.
I clean Sterling’s cabin-bin-bin.
Our relationship is strictly professional-nal-nal.
He stood, his injured leg feeling like wood, and hobbled out of the office, wondering if Norah had spoken true or if she’d just said those things to appease Dr. Richards and his policy.
Either way, the pain in his chest continued to throb, and thrum, and torture him for the rest of the day.
He couldn’t date Norah if they worked at Silver Creek together?
Sterling suddenly didn’t want the job that had felt so right and so perfect. Didn’t want it at all.
9
Norah survived the day after the blindsiding meeting in Dr. Richards office. Not much more could be said for the hours she spent at Silver Creek. Part of her still existed in shock over Dr. Richards’s policy and his questions about her and Sterling’s relationship. Who had told him they’d gone to dinner after the orientation? Or to church together? And how was that any of his—or anyone’s—business?
Anger accompanied her through her tasks, keeping her mind sharp and her hands quick as she worked. By the time she met Sterling in the barn, she felt one breath away from snapping.
He didn’t step forward to greet her, didn’t sweep his arm around her waist, didn’t brush his lips along her forehead the way he had several times before. The loss of the affection stung, and the hurt spiraled deeper that Norah knew it could. After all, she hadn’t been interested in dating, or men, or marriage, ever. But Sterling had changed that, made her wonder if she was loveable, if she could have a future and a family with someone besides Mama.
“Hey.” She stopped a healthy distance from him, her hands stuffed in her jeans pockets.
He looked at her with exhaustion in the set of his jaw. “Hey.”
She didn’t want to let go of the hope that had ballooned at the prospect of a relationship with him. She suspected that would hurt worse than anything else she’d endured in her life. “You ready to get home?”
“I’m so tired,” he said. “I’m not sure I can even walk to the car.” He flashed her a faint smile but didn’t seem to have the energy to keep it on his face for longer than a moment. “Who knew riding a horse could take so much out of a person?”
Norah could sympathize, so she gave him her best grin. “Well, come on. You can tell me where to stop for dinner on the way.”
“Thanks. I’m starving.” He did move much slower than he had that morning, and she caught him wincing a couple of times as he stepped on his injured leg.
“Did you take your meds today?” she asked.
“I forgot to bring them.” Sterling leaned against the car and panted. “I asked for some ibuprofen at the
office at lunchtime. I’ll be okay.” He ducked down into the car.
She kept both hands on the wheel, unsure of which spying eyes she needed to avoid. He directed her through a drive-through Chinese restaurant, and she maneuvered up the mountain while he ate an egg roll.
She pulled into the garage and carried the food bags inside while he closed the garage door. He locked the entrance to the house too, and didn’t flick on any lights as he came nearer to her in the kitchen.
His pinky brushed hers. “I can’t believe that policy.” His voice sounded like a warm summer breeze, and it tickled the back of her neck. His hand settled fully into hers, and her heart danced in her chest.
His other arm swept around her and pulled her close. Those delicious lips traced themselves across her eyebrows. “I don’t want to just be friends,” he whispered next.
“But we need you at the center for the at-risk boys.” She matched her tone to his in volume and pitch. She wanted to stomp on the accelerator of their relationship at the same time she applied pressure to the brakes.
“I’m not gonna quit.” But he didn’t let her go either.
“Then what—?”
“We’ll just have to be more discreet.” He stepped back and pulled out a couple of Chinese food containers. “Why is there a policy like that, anyway?”
“I thought it was for the patients,” Norah said. “You know, we don’t want our boys and girls getting mixed up with each other. They come from all over the country, and they’re not at Silver Creek to find a date.”
Sterling nodded as he opened the cupboard and got out two plates. “But for the adults there? Seems sort of…old-fashioned.”
“I didn’t know.” Norah spooned beef and broccoli onto her plate and added a scoop of ham-fried rice.
“You did a great job convincing Dr. Richards we were just friends.” Sterling’s tone possessed an edge of something dangerous.
“We are friends.”
“Norah.”
“I do clean your cabin.”
“It’s not my cabin.”
She looked up from her food to find his gaze set on angry. “I know.”
He deflated and added more Mongolian chicken to his pile of food. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Sterling dropped his fork to his plate. “I don’t care about what my brother said. I don’t care if no one approves of our relationship.” He took a heaving breath that expanded his chest to nearly double its size. “I’ve always been the black sheep of the family, and I just don’t care.”
Norah wasn’t quite sure what he wanted her to say in response. A sliver of joy pulsed through her, infecting her lips, and they twitched into a smile.
“Okay?” he asked. “Are we okay, then?”
“I’m okay.” Norah believed the words, happiness spreading through her because she did. She truly believed she was okay, that she and Sterling could have a future despite his brother’s statement.
“Good.” Sterling reached over and took his hand in hers. “If you’re okay, then I’m okay.”
Norah prepared to leave as soon as she finished eating, telling Sterling, “I have to get home for my brothers. They rely on me to make dinner.”
“Take the leftovers.” Sterling started closing the containers and putting them back in the plastic bags. “Then you don’t have to cook.”
Relief swept through Norah, but she didn’t let him see it. She had at least an hour of homework to finish tonight before her class tomorrow night, and a twenty-minute drive to the wrong side of the tracks.
Her newfound hope and joy withered under the remembrance of who she was. She ducked her head and headed for the garage, the leftover Chinese food in her hand. Sterling followed, reaching one of his long arms over her shoulder and pressing his palm against the door so she couldn’t open it.
“You sure you’re okay?”
She turned to face him, her pulse tap dancing against her ribs at his nearness, the scent of his skin. Seizing her bravery, she leaned into him, watched his eyes drift closed as he took a deep breath, and brushed her lips across his cheek. “I’m okay, Sterling. See you in the morning.”
She opened the door and flew down the steps to her car while he opened the garage door. While it wasn’t exactly the kiss she wanted to give him, it was all she had right now—especially after consuming so much spicy Chinese food.
A giddy grin accompanied her down the mountain and all the way to her house, where she sat in the driveway and looked at the lone bulb lighting the front window. She felt physical weight descend on her as she got out of the car and entered the house.
“Chinese food,” she announced as she placed the bag on the table. Javier jumped up from his place on the couch, Erik hot on his heels. Alex continued reading his book for a few seconds, then he set it aside and came into the kitchen.
“Well, it’s about time you made it home.” Mama’s voice froze Norah’s motion of opening the leftover sweet and sour chicken.
“She’s not that late,” Javier said, exchanging a look with Norah that said Mama was in one of her moods. She rarely came out of her bedroom while the family was still awake. Norah hadn’t expected to see her until ten, her usual dinnertime.
“I’ll make you a plate.” Norah got out four plates and started putting rice and chicken onto one for her mom.
“How did you pay for this?” Mama’s poisonous voice had rendered everyone silent. Norah nodded at them, and Javier understood. He hurried the younger boys to load their plates, and then they disappeared down the hall to his bedroom, where they could eat in peace.
Norah waited until the snick of the door closing reached her ears. “I didn’t pay for it, Mama. A friend and I stopped to eat, and these are the leftovers.” She made no move to sit down and share the meal with her mother. “I have homework, so—”
“Who’s your friend?” Mama settled at the table with her plate, the message for Norah to sit down just as clear.
“Just someone who started at the center.” Norah perched on a barstool, not fully committing to staying. Everything about this situation had her on edge, as if Mama somehow knew about Sterling.
Maybe she did. After all, Dr. Richards did.
Pure panic iced Norah’s insides, making her stomach tumble and twist and her heart pinch and pulse. “How are you feeling today, Mama?”
That seemed to derail her mother for a moment. She coughed until Norah felt sure she’d spit up blood, continued eating, and then said, “I’ve had better days.”
“You have?” The question exploded out of Norah before she could censor it. She’d been spending too much time with Sterling, revealing too many things she’d kept bottled up for so long, she’d lost her ability to suppress her tongue.
“Yes.” Her mother looked at her sharply. “But not when you were born, or any of those boys. That’s for sure.” She stabbed a piece of chicken and stuck it in her mouth. Norah had heard her say such hurtful things before, but they still dug against Norah’s heart, stabbing in her brain.
She stared evenly back at her mother, her throat swollen, as she thought about the stark contrast between her home and Sterling’s. The feeling that prevailed at the cabin spoke of love, while here, all Norah sensed was fear. Even if Sterling wasn’t happy with his parents, or felt like they didn’t accept him, he knew they loved him. Norah marveled at that, and wondered what it would be like to be loved so unconditionally.
God loves you unconditionally. The pastor’s words entered her mind at that moment, eradicating some of the fear, and completely silencing her mother’s next words. Norah managed to nod, then she stood and moved down the hall to her bedroom.
She didn’t want to be infected with more of her mother’s lies. Before entering her room, she knocked lightly on Javier’s door and then opened it. All three boys sat on his bed, their food gone, as a movie played on his cheap laptop.
Closing the door behind her, she released the love she felt for her three half-brothers. They should know someone loves t
hem, she thought. Without a word, she moved across the room and hugged her brothers. “I love you guys,” she whispered, saddened and also joyous that all three of her brothers—including the almost eighteen-year-old Javier—clung to her and gave her the sentiment in return.
Before she could cry, she straightened. “Okay, guys,” she said. “I have to finish my homework. Finish the movie, and then it’s time for bed.”
“Can we sleep in here?” Alex asked Javier.
“Sure thing.” Javier stacked the plates and handed them to Norah. She closed his door behind her and faced the kitchen. She couldn’t hear anything, and she’d normally avoid another altercation with her mother. But, feeling stronger and braver than she ever had, she walked into the kitchen, prepared for whatever happened.
Mama was gone. She’d left her half-eaten plate of food on the table for Norah to clean up. In a rare act of defiance, Norah put away the leftovers, loaded the dishwasher with her brother’s plates—but left her mother’s—before pulling her backpack from the front closet and settling onto the couch to finish her homework.
Sterling endured the week, though it felt like the closest thing to torture he’d experienced—besides the actual fall. But it took so much energy to keep things cool between him and Norah at work. So much physical power to keep himself on the horse, or following around eight teenage boys and their surly counselor.
Norah had class on Tuesday and Thursday nights, and barely had time to run him home before she drove to the small campus on the eastern edge of town. Sterling missed her all day, and not being able to share dinner with her racked his soul as he had to spend his evenings with only himself. She was much better company.
When Sunday came, he woke and stared at the ceiling. “Today,” he said. “Maybe you can kiss her today.”
They hadn’t had much time alone since Monday night, certainly nothing romantic enough that he could create a moment. He wasn’t sure how to do it today, either, but she was planning to bring her brothers to the cabin for lunch. Sterling had bought frozen lasagna, and bags of salad, and two loaves of garlic bread.