Sara-Kate's Spirit

by Natalie-Nicole Bates

  “I am a lot better, Sara. Better, thanks to you.”

  Then she smiled, and his heart turned over.

  “I’m thrilled to hear that, really pleased. You seemed so...I don’t know, out of it for so long. I wasn’t sure if I should call for a doctor.” She then paused, and tugged on one of her red ponytails. “Or do you need a doctor? I mean...I know someone...a doctor I can call.”

  Now she twisted the ponytail in her fingers, and Reed detected something. Was she nervous about the doctor? Was there more to his little accident and minor health scare than he thought?

  “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m fine.” He then added, “I am fine, right?”

  She walked to the bed, and whatever malady that seemed to bother her only a minute before, now evaporated, and she visibly relaxed, which in turn, calmed him as well.

  “Do you think I could get a shower, and maybe a shave?” He absent mindedly rubbed his chin.

  She fidgeted, and twisted her hands together in front of her. “Sure, just let me get you a...a towel.”

  When he realized his nakedness, an intense heat flooded his face. He wasn’t exposed to Sara-Kate, but the thought of causing her discomfort, or making her think he was about to put his body on display like some sordid pervert, made him uncomfortable.

  “Great, that would be...great.”

  She disappeared from the bedroom, and he spotted his suitcase at the opposite side of the room. At least he had the sense to drag it along with him after the accident.

  The accident. He still didn’t remember much, and that was more than a bit disconcerting. Had he dismissed the idea of a doctor too quickly?

  Sara-Kate reappeared with a large pink bath towel. “I’ll start the shower for you. Just come down the hall whenever you’re ready.” She then beat a hasty retreat from the bedroom.

  He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and planted his feet on to the thick, luxurious carpeting below. Slowly, he rose into a standing position, and was pleasantly surprised to find he wasn’t dizzy or feeling sick.

  Maybe he really was okay.

  He took the opportunity to wrap the pink towel around his waist. He crossed the bedroom, bent down, opened his suitcase, and rifled through the contents. He located a t-shirt and a worn out pair of faded sweatpants, and grabbed his shaving kit.

  He made his way from the bedroom, and down the hallway to the open bathroom. When he stepped inside, he could see it was definitely a room designed by a woman. Everything was pink, from the walls, to the floor, to the sink and bathtub. There was even a pink chair, foot stool, and vanity. A bathroom tailor made for a princess.

  No, not a princess—an angel.

  Sara-Kate turned from the shower enclosure.

  “Do you think you can handle it by yourself?” she asked.

  He was almost tempted to say no, just to keep her with him. An almost sixth sense told him not to push Sara-Kate’s limits. He wasn’t sure exactly how he knew, but he could tell she was a bit fragile, and because of that, he would do nothing that could potentially upset or unnerve her.

  “I think I’ve got it, Sara.”

  “Okay, great.” She sounded almost relieved as she dried her hands on a small towel. “After your shower, maybe you should get back into bed. You’re still recovering, you know. I’ll bring up something up to eat.”

  As she passed him, he dared to take her hand, and she turned back to him. He looked into her gorgeous dark eyes. Eyes he could lose him in.

  “Sara, I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’re doing for me. I don’t quite understand what’s happened, but I do know I am very grateful for you taking me in, and treating me like...you know me.”

  “I’m happy to help, Reed. Really, I am.”

  There was such a serenity in her expression, such a sincerity in her voice, that he didn’t doubt her words. It made the feelings within him that were growing for her suddenly double in strength. He had to break the connection before he blabbered he was in love with her.

  In love with her, and he didn’t even know her!

  The thought was preposterous, to say the least. Yet the feeling was real. Very real.

  He let go of her hand with a silent reluctance, and headed toward the pink frosty glass shower enclosure. As he did, he could see Sara-Kate in his peripheral vision exit the bathroom. Opening the door to the shower, he slung the pink towel over a silver plated railing and stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Stepping into the cascade, he allowed the water to pour over his body, drenching him from his hair, to his feet. He leaned against the tile wall, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to be lost in the moment, the rushing sound of the water lulled him into peace. Only a minute later, he felt a presence, and his eyes shot open. Clearing the water from his face with his palm, he saw a silhouette of a female shape outside the shower enclosure.

  Was Sara-Kate wanting to join him in the shower?

  The thought of a fantasy come-to-life caused his arousal to surge almost at once. To make love to this angel under the water fall of wet warmth, boggled his mind. He reached for the door.

  “Reed, I brought you a bar of soap.”

  And just like that, the fantasy flopped.

  “I didn’t think you’d want to use the pink soap. It’s rose scented. I have been experimenting with basil and mint, it’s more...unisex. It’s both soap and shampoo in one bar.”

  “Oh, okay,” he said, hoping to hide the disappointment from his voice. Only now did he realize how insane his thoughts of just a moment before were. Sara-Kate was a wonderful woman who was trying to make her unexpected houseguest comfortable, not become the object of his physical desire.

  “I’ll just toss it to you,” she said.

  A second later, a green rectangular bar sailed over the enclosure, and landed at his feet with a soft thud.

  “Thank you, Sara-Kate.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He watched her shadowy silhouette walk away, followed by the sound of the bathroom door closing.

  Once again, a feeling of loneliness and isolation enveloped him. There was only one other time in his life he felt so vulnerable, and he had been little more than a child then. That experience toughened him emotionally. Quickly, he shook off the intrusive thought, and reached down to pick up the bar of soap. It was ridiculous. Over the years he rehashed his past enough. No need for it to rear its ugly head once more, especially when he was already beyond confused after the events of the last few days.

  As he soaped his hair and his body, a warm heady feeling filled his body and his mind. Was it the soap, the warm water, or just the thought of Sara-Kate? As he thought of her, her flame colored ponytails and perfect link lips, all thoughts of his past circled the drain below his feet, and vanished along with the water.

  ***

  Reed wasn’t sure how much time passed when he emerged from the shower. The bathroom mirrors were almost completely covered in condensation, and he used one hand to wipe away the fog.

  He wrapped himself in a pink bath towel, and reached for his shaving kit, intent on running a razor over his chin and upper lip when a wave of exhaustion overtook him. Abandoning the shave, he mustered all the strength he could manage, and rubbed the soft towel all over his body, the millions of tiny fibers caressing his skin as he went along.

  Even Sara-Kate’s towels seemed magical.

  For a moment, his thoughts filled with images of Sara-Kate’s fingertips massaging his naked body.

  Then the annoying voice in the back of his mind interrupted his daydream to warn him that Sara-Kate wasn’t his little plaything. That if she caught wind of his ever increasing attraction to her, she would put him out of her home...and her life.

  Then again, he had to leave soon any way, didn’t he? He would go on with his life, and Sara-Kate with her life. She would become nothing more than a memory of a sweet, beautiful angel who took him in, and cared for him after his accident.

  And thi
s thought depressed him.

  He folded the damp towel and laid it on the vanity before reaching for his sweat pants.

  It seemed nothing short of a miracle when he reached the empty bedroom. Sara-Kate was nowhere to be seen, and he shuffled his way to the bed, noticing immediately the sheets and blankets were freshly changed. As he crawled back into the bed and flopped back on the pillows, he wondered how in such a short time he could go from feeling so bad, to so good, to so bad again.

  Then he saw her in the doorway. Just the sight of Sara-Kate, the beautiful Sara-Kate, was enough to lift him both emotionally and physically. It was a marvel he couldn’t understand, but was exceedingly grateful for.

  And then she smiled, and his joy bubbled up. He was hopelessly, utterly in love with a stranger. He never been hit so hard, or so fast by a woman, and it wasn’t just because she was being so nice to him, either. As ludicrous as it all seemed, in that moment, he grew determined to make her fall in love with him forever.

  “I hope you’re ready for a little something to eat.”

  He really wasn’t hungry, but he wouldn’t disappoint this woman who was trying to make him comfortable and well again. “That would be great,” he answered.

  After she disappeared from the doorway, he forced himself into a sitting position. No more pathetic invalid, he thought as he pushed his long damp hair from his face. From now on, he would show Sara-Kate the strong, successful man he really was, even if he had to fake it until he was back to normal again.

  When she reappeared carrying a tray, the smell of freshly baked bread filled the air, and he forgot that only a few minutes earlier he hadn’t wanted to eat. Now he was absolutely famished as she placed a tray before him that looked like it was a prop from a food channel on television.

  “Croque Madame!” She exclaimed.

  “Wow, this is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before,” he said truthfully. The delicate pearl white china plate held a beautiful ham and cheese cradled between slices of lightly toasted bread and topped with a perfect fried egg and a creamy sauce.

  He shook out the linen napkin, lifted the knife and fork into his hands, and dug in. It was both sweet and delicious, unlike anything he ever tasted in his life.

  “Maybe tomorrow morning you will be strong enough to come downstairs and have breakfast, perhaps even outside in the sunshine. It won’t remain warm very much longer. Autumn is set to take hold quickly, and winter won’t be far behind.

  Reed absorbed her words. As he continued to gain strength again, it would soon be time to move on from Sara-Kate.

  “You look tired,” she remarked.

  Her lovely voice broke up his depressing thoughts. “I suppose I am tired.”

  “Well, you finish up with dinner, and I’ll be back for the tray. You can sleep then if you want.”

  Once again, as soon as Sara-Kate left his presence, the feeling of loneliness consumed him. It was almost as if she was a missing piece of him that he could no longer live without. A piece he didn’t know existed, but now relied on for his existence. It was silly, he knew. Yet at the same time, he couldn’t shake the feeling.

  He ate mechanically, the fork going to the food and into his mouth, but he no longer tasted it. The more he repeated the pattern, the more weary he became. Finally, he put down the fork, lifted the tea cup, and drank the warm liquid down. He didn’t even remember putting the tray aside when his head hit the pillow. It was the last thing he remembered before blacking out into a dreamless sleep.

  ***

  The sun streamed in beneath the closed blind of the bedroom window when Reed opened his eyes. The first sight the greeted him was Sara-Kate’s beautiful smiling face, and red pony tails. To be near her another day brought him sheer joy.

  “Good morning, Reed. How are you?” she asked, the smile never leaving her lips.

  “As long as I am here with you, I will always be well.” After he said the words, he realized they came from his lips almost involuntarily, from a place within him he didn’t know existed. The thought was startling, but from Sara-Kate’s unchanged expression, she didn’t seem to mind.

  “How about after your shower, you get dressed and come downstairs? It’s such a lovely day to have breakfast outside. Perhaps afterward, you can do some writing, if you feel up to it.”

  Casually, she touched his bare shoulder, and her touch invigorated him. Please don’t stop touching me, is what he wanted to say. Instead, he said, “Sure, I’ll be downstairs in a little while.”

  “Do you need any help?” she asked.

  “No, I can handle it,” he answered, even though there was such a yearning to keep her near, to pull her into bed on top of him, and beg her to make love to him all morning...all day, and far into the night.

  “Alright then, homemade brioche French toast and coffee await you when you’re ready.”

  Then as improbable as it was, she seemed to leave the room almost floating above the carpet.

  Now he was seeing things!

  He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He was going crazy for sure.

  After a shower, he ran a razor over his chin, and blotted his face dry. He felt almost normal again, and that was most welcome. He went back to the bedroom, rifled through his suitcase, and slipped into a pair of old, faded jeans and a well-worn t-shirt. Before he made his way down the stairs, he grabbed a blank notebook and a pen from his suitcase.

  Once downstairs, he looked around at the tastefully decorated living room. He barely remembered crossing through it when he first arrived at Sara-Kate’s home. He looked outside the large picture window, and saw the pathway that led from the house, on to the residential street. There were other homes up and down the street. So how did he end up choosing this house after his accident?

  However it came to be, he was glad he made the right decision, and chose Sara-Kate’s home. Everyone else probably would have closed the door in his face when he turned up on their doorsteps looking for help.

  The sudden aroma of cinnamon filled his nostrils. Immediately, his stomach growled with hunger. He followed the scent through the dining room, and into the spacious kitchen where Sara-Kate, dressed in a flowing, lavender dress that rested gracefully at her ankles, prepared breakfast.

  Again, the feeling of joy and thankfulness consumed him.

  She turned to him, spatula in hand. “I’m thrilled to see you out of bed, and on your feet.”

  “I’m getting better, a little at a time, I guess.”

  She placed the spatula on the stove, walked to him, and looped her arms around his. “Let’s get you out into the sunshine for a while.”

  He walked along with her out the back door of the house, into a lovely garden. It was Sara-Kate’s own personal paradise. All around him were flowering bushes, and shrubs in pinks and purples. A large greenhouse sat off in the distance. Everything enclosed by the safety of a six foot tall stockade fence. Attached to the house, was a long, narrow sun porch.

  She led him to a patio with a wicker table and chairs.

  “Just relax, and I’ll bring you breakfast.”

  He sunk into the chair, still soaking up the atmosphere of Sara-Kate’s secret garden. Anyone could be happy living here. He could be happy living here forever, if such a thing as forever was possible. It sounded so crazy to even think such a thing. No one lived forever. Yet, for some odd reason, after his accident and arrival at Sara-Kate’s home, anything felt possible.

  He wondered when she would expect him to leave, and would she care to remain in contact with him? It had been so long since he cared about anyone like he did Sara-Kate, even though their time together thus far was short. Now that he was well into his thirties, he felt the need to hold on to this relationship, even though just a few days earlier he was more or less a confirmed bachelor, content to be on his own.

  His thoughts broke up when she appeared with a breakfast tray.

  “Cinnamon brioche French toast, butter, syrup, bacon,” she said placing the dish in front of hi
m. “And coffee, of course.” She shook out a linen napkin, and laid in over his lap. “If you need anything else, I will be in the sun porch working.”

  As she turned to go, he seized the opportunity to take her hand, and she turned back to him.

  “Sara, this is just...too wonderful. Please don’t feel you have to go through so much trouble for me.”

  “Well, the bread maker did most of the work. But actually, I enjoy cooking, I enjoy having you here.”

  Then she did something that totally shocked him in the most amazing way. She bent down and kissed him. Her perfect pale, pink lips soft and moist on his own. Her ponytail caressed his cheek. Just as he reached for her waist to pull her closer, she backed away, leaving his senses reeling. How could a simple, closed mouth kiss affect him so?

  Because it was her.

  It was Sara-Kate, a woman who was totally unlike any other woman he ever met.

  For the next half hour, his thoughts were consumed with Sara-Kate. Not just her kiss, but the totality of her. What she was. An angel. But if an angel is what she truly was, didn’t that mean he was dead?

  The thought was troubling. This wasn’t death. This was life.

  Having breakfast in a beautiful garden, and all around him, birds tweeting happily in trees. The sky above blue, with a few fat clouds passing by. If he died in the accident, where was the bright tunnel of light he read about? Where were his smiling, departed relatives welcoming him to the afterlife? No, he thought lifting the coffee cup to his lips. He wasn’t dead, that wasn’t possible. He was just...infatuated with Sara-Kate. No, that wasn’t accurate either. He was somehow full blown in love with her.

  He lifted his pen, and tried to force his thoughts to his writing. To begin a new book was what he needed to distract him. Another half hour passed, and he stared at the blank page in front of him, the blue lines swimming before his eyes.

  Then an idea came to him. Maybe, just maybe he knew how he could prolong his time with Sara-Kate.

  CHAPTER THREE