by Taylor Hart
Hunter grunted and cocked an eyebrow at Sterling. “I put up with you. I let you sell her art even though you won’t sell it to me.”
Sterling’s face lit with a smile. “True.”
Summer put an arm around Sayla. “Here, let’s get you checked out.” She gestured to Sterling. “I brought some medical supplies in a bag in the back seat of the truck. Would you be a dear and get them?”
Sterling jumped to help.
Summer looked at Henry. “What happened to you?”
Henry gave her an annoyed look and shook his head. “I’m fine.”
Summer flashed a grin, and Sayla knew she liked him. “Ah, he’s that type.”
She winked at Sayla.
Sayla got to her feet and took Summer’s hand as they went to the bathroom. She couldn’t help but giggle at the way Summer seemed to manage the people around her. “Yep. Henry is that type.”
Summer smelled fresh like strawberries. “You smell good.” Part of her knew that her pain meds were talking, letting her be free of inhibitions.
Summer nodded and led her into the bathroom. “Let’s get the bandages changed and then get you cleaned up.” She tsked her tongue. “You poor thing, you’ve been through a lot.”
Normally, Sayla would resent that kind of talk, but it was okay coming from Summer.
Sterling delivered the bag of medical supplies. For the next half hour, Summer helped her change the bandages. From what Sayla could see in the mirror, the wounds seemed to be healing nicely. Summer helped her wash her hair in the sink and sponge down with a wet cloth. She yelled for Sterling to bring some clothes and magically underwear and pajamas appeared.
Sayla rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I can get used to him being here.”
As Summer helped her get her pajamas over her head, she paused and wiped a tear away where it had slipped out.
Sayla found herself really caring about Summer.
“I’m sorry. I’m here to help you, but I just found out I’m pregnant, and I’m feeling so bad for you. Are you going to be okay?”
A pang of jealousy entered her heart, but compassion overshadowed it. Gently, she put her hand on Summer’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine.” She pulled her in for a hug. “Congratulations.”
The next morning Sayla woke and saw the clock next to her bed said half past ten. She groaned. The ache was a bit less, but the stabbing pain in her lower stomach was still there. A glass of water and a pain pill sat in the accustomed spot next to the bed with a piece of bread and a note that told her Sterling was at the marina and to call him. She also saw a cell phone next to the bed.
She was still mystified as to how Sterling Pennington had become her nanny, but everything felt different. The surgery had been much harder than she’d expected. She hadn’t anticipated needing so much help.
She really was grateful Sterling had helped and had asked Summer to come last night. Summer had promised she would come again for the next few nights to help her change the bandages.
Pulling off her sheets, she noticed she did feel a bit stronger. She broke the pain pill in half and downed the smaller dose. Then she went to the bathroom and cleaned herself up as best as she could.
Although she was swollen, she didn’t want to spend the whole day in her pajamas in a haze. She went back to her room and changed into some shorts and a t-shirt and slipped into some flip-flops. She wouldn’t call him. She would walk to the marina.
Even though she felt slightly out of breath after walking to the kitchen, she got a piece of bread and drank some orange juice, knowing she would need the energy.
Searching the kitchen, she noticed how clean it was. She also noticed how stocked the fridge was. Thinking about the meal the previous evening, she found herself surprised that he was such a good cook.
There were so many things that surprised her about Sterling Pennington.
Most surprising was his compassion. His sacrifice.
To be honest, it annoyed her too. She closed her eyes and held to the counter for a beat. He’d explained how no one had been there for his mother except him. But why did he care for her?
The pain medication began kicking in and she relaxed and moved to the front door. She pushed through it, shut the door, then gingerly held the handrail she’d never really noticed before, and took the steps down to the dirt driveway. Walking to the marina every day had never seemed like a big deal. In fact, many times she would walk or ride her bike into Jackson Hole if she needed a few things. Henry let her borrow his truck if the weather was bad or if she needed to pick up more than just a few things.
She’d come to rely on walking. Lots of it. Luckily, she liked it. Jackson was perfect for hikers and bikers.
Now, as she stared at the road that winded down to the marina, she cringed, but she pushed on.
It usually took her maybe ten minutes to get to the marina. This time, it took her more than twenty, maybe even thirty, to reach the wind chime on the porch of the marina.
Sayla pulled the screen door open, rattling the wind chime, then pushed her way in. Unfortunately, she was clammy and worn out.
Sterling jumped from the stool behind the old-fashioned cash machine and bolted for her, concern on his face. “What the …?” He got to her and braced her, pulling her into him.
Fortunately, there were no customers. “Let me go.”
Putting his hand on her forehead, he narrowed his eyes. “You feel hot.”
“I’m fine.” Just as she said it, she felt woozy and could feel herself falling.
Sterling wasn’t having any of that. In one whoosh, she was in his arms, and he was powerfully moving out of the marina, locking the door and shutting off the lights. “C’mon, we’ll get you back to bed. I am not happy you walked here.” The side of his jaw flexed, and she could feel his body tense.
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t have the strength to fight him.
The next thing she knew he was opening the truck and putting her inside. “I guess I can’t let you out of my sight.” He ran around to the other side and got in, quickly starting the truck.
She flashed to the other day when he’d taken her home from the hospital. In no time, they were back at her place. When she tried to open the door to get out, he was there pulling her back into his arms.
She couldn’t help how silly she felt. Yet as she leaned into him, she grinned. She was already used to his spicy sweet cologne and the feel of his hard chest muscles against her head. “Are you my Prince Charming?”
“Do you want me to be?”
Gently, she touched the light facial hair on his face, feeling like she was apart from her body, like she was watching what she was doing and had no control. “Maybe.”
For a second he stopped and looked at her lips. “I’d kiss you if you weren’t in a pain medicated haze.”
A kiss. The thought was delightful. “Do it.”
Shaking his head, he continued to the door, opening it and letting out a laugh. “You know you’re going to be mad at yourself when you wake up later.” He got to her bedroom and put her in bed, pulling off her flip-flops. “There you go.”
She whispered, “I like these pills.” Her head was fuzzy. “I did like kissing you.”
Gently, he put a hand on her forehead. “You have a fever.” He opened a pill bottle and handed one to her. “Take this.”
“No.” As she said the word, a sudden chill shook her.
Sterling propped her up with his hand. “Come on, sweetheart. Take it and get some rest. Another day and you’ll feel better.” The pill was at her lips.
Sayla let him put the pill in her mouth and swallowed the water. She reached for his hand, needing it. Needing to feel the certainty of it. “Will you stay?”
The chair scraped the floor, and she heard him sit, keeping his hand in hers. His other hand was on her forehead. “Shh, it’s okay. I won’t leave. Go to sleep.”
Feeling desperate inside, she clutched his hand. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “I had a dre
am about you.”
Chapter 12
Playing house wasn’t something Sterling had ever thought he’d do. Most of the time he was moving from house to house himself. He rarely handled the day-to-day cooking. If anyone had told him he’d be taking care of someone after his mother’s death, he would have laughed his butt off.
But he liked being with Sayla. Liked her needing him.
Watching Sayla sleep, he felt that same stirring in his chest. Of protection.
The only time he’d felt it in his life was for his mother as he did what he could to protect her from his father’s outbursts. His father had never been physical, just emotionally abusive.
Sterling pushed that out of his head and focused on Sayla. He couldn’t deny the attraction he felt for her. He grinned, thinking about her comment about how good she looked drooling. He thought he might see a bit of it on her lip right now.
He would be lying if he said he hadn’t wanted to wake her and get the details of her dream.
His phone buzzed, and he stood, pulling it from his pocket and moving out of her room.
A missed call from Caleb.
He’d been ignoring texts for him to call all day, but the guilty part of him ended up listening to the phone message. The message consisted of a few choice pieces of profanity with the underlying message telling Sterling to get to Alaska.
“Fine,” he said loudly, walking into the other room so he wouldn’t wake Sayla.
As if on cue, Summer rang as soon as he hung up his voicemail.
“Hey.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Is Sayla doing okay?”
“She’s fine.” All the old emotions of worry over his mother assaulted him. “I have to go to Alaska. Can you stay with her, Summer?”
She hesitated. “What?”
“I have to go to Alaska for work for two or three days.” He rationalized it couldn’t take more than two or three days.
“Is everything okay?” Her voice was quiet.
“Harold wants to try me out to direct a movie with him.”
“I’ll be there at five-thirty.” She promised.
“Thanks.” He hung up and focused. He would need to get to his Porsche and let Henry know what was going on.
His cell phone buzzed. Annoyed, thinking it was Caleb, he pulled it out. But it was Hunter.
“Hello.”
“I’m coming to pick you up in ten minutes.”
“Thanks.” Gratitude washed over him.
He hung up and quickly gathered his things into a bag. Then he went to the counter and pulled out notepaper and a pen. Along with a fresh glass of water and a pain pill, he silently entered the room.
Sayla was breathing quietly where she lay. He set the glass down, took the old one and arranged everything for her. He couldn’t resist putting a hand on her forehead. How had this woman come to mean so much to him in just a few short days?
How had one date with a woman in a mask led to all this?
It scared him that it felt so good to have his hand on her pale skin, to brush back her red hair. The kind of red that looked like it was out of a bottle, but he knew wasn’t. She was beautiful. Strong and determined. But fragile. He hated to admit that it’d been nice to have her be a bit fragile.
“Bye, Sayla.”
Without thinking, he leaned down and gently brushed his lips across her forehead.
Her eyes fluttered, but didn’t open.
“Rob.”
The word didn’t surprise him, but he couldn’t deny he wished it were his name she called out.
Chapter 13
Four days later, Sayla stared into the bathroom mirror at the cuts that were starting to look more like scars on the bottom of her stomach. Tomorrow she would go in and talk to the doctor again.
It’d all been hazy the day he’d done the surgery, and she looked forward to getting some more answers. Henry hadn’t been that much help. Which was fine. Truth be told, it was so much easier talking to Summer about it.
The past three nights she’d come to help change the bandages. Last night Sayla really hadn’t needed her, but she found her presence comforting.
She’d listened to Summer’s story about her life in Jackson, leaving for ten years, her first husband who had passed of a heart attack. She’d found herself telling Summer about Rob. About his gentleness, about how she loved watching him coach football.
It had been some kind of miracle because she realized Summer had become more than just a person coming to help her. She had become her friend. Had Sterling planned that? If he had just wanted someone to care for Sayla’s physical needs he could have hired a nurse. Shoot, he could have hired an entire medical team. How had he known her well enough to realize she could use a friend, especially when Sayla didn’t even realize it?
Sayla pushed her shirt down and stared at her complexion. She’d told Henry to come over for dinner tonight and that she’d be fine without any help.
So, she commanded herself, she had to be fine. Gingerly, she began braiding her hair to the side of her head, using a band to keep it together. It was easier to control when it was in a braid.
For the millionth time she stared at herself and wondered why Sterling Pennington would be interested. It was something she and Summer hadn’t talked about.
She didn’t know if Summer sensed her hesitation. When Sayla asked her how Sterling’s time with Harold was going, Summer was always glad to give a report.
The previous night Summer had gestured to the cell phone next to her bed and told her to call Sterling.
Sayla had refused, claiming she still hadn’t even turned the thing on.
It’d just been easier, after leaving the world of the living, not to have a phone. She had her job at the marina. Her books. Her photography. Her dream of going to Rome.
Her loss.
It took up all she had.
Moving to the kitchen, she quickly pulled two chicken breasts out of the freezer and put together a sauce with Italian dressing, cream cheese, spices, and soup into the Crock-Pot. She’d wait to make noodles until right before Henry came over.
She loved the Crock-Pot. Since it made just about any meal simple, it often fed her and Henry.
It was only three, and she wasn’t even exhausted yet. She found her strength coming back more everyday.
Her hands itched for a camera. For a short session of taking pictures.
She decided to go out and take a few shots of the lake. Carefully, she put on her socks and hiking boots
As she walked out of the cabin and started up the trail, she took a deep breath and was grateful for her returning health. It had all been a blur. The surgery. Sterling, Summer, Henry actually asking about Sterling.
Somehow, he’d become part of her life. A fixture in less than a week. Even after being gone for four days, she could almost sense him there. It felt perfectly right and perfectly weird.
The worst part was that she dreamed about him. All the time. When she woke, she would long for the dream. She dreamed about the way his lip quirked into his half smile, about the way his muscle would flex on his bicep when he did random things. There was the part of being with Sterling that was pure attraction.
With every step along the trail, she felt stronger. She got up the first crest and decided to go easy. She paused to take a picture. The sun was still high, and there were lots of tourists on the lake. She didn’t like the tourist shots. She liked the lake shots. So, instead she focused on the sky. She widened the lens, then closed it a bit. It wasn’t the best camera, but she made it work.
She thought of how solid Sterling felt when he carried her. Of the strength in his body. Maybe the worst part was that it was even more than his physical strength or his body. It was the way he felt solid to her emotionally.
She thought about laughing with him as they watched Anne of Green Gables. About how he teased her about being his bosom friend.
Then she chastised herself for th
inking about him.
What about Rob?
Unexpectedly, jealousy spread into her. Millions of women around the world dreamed about Sterling Pennington.
How stupid was she?
He was a movie star. How many nights did desperate women watch his movies over and over and dream about him?
Baaaa!
She tried to focus on what she was doing.
Point, plant, take the picture. She scoured her line of vision for anything that caught her eye.
Suddenly, he was there.
As if conjured from her thoughts.
Standing at the bottom of the crest of the trail, Sterling was staring up at her. The way he looked at her took her breath away.
The ocean blue of his eyes.
The perfectness of his cut hair that fell over his almost beard.
He hadn’t shaved the whole time he was taking care of her, and apparently that hadn’t changed
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she said breathlessly. Not from physical exertion, but from the way her heart rate spiked. “I guess you came back.” Nice one, Sayla. That sounded really intelligent.
Sterling’s lips spread wide, and he hiked up the ridge between them, closing the distance, that stupid smile on his face. The one with a little bit of cocky in it. “I guess you noticed I was gone.”
Putting out his hand, he offered her a purple gift bag. “I brought you something.”
Staring at the bag, her heartbeat went up another notch. What could he be giving her? Jewelry? Not jewelry.
He laughed. “Man, you’re a hard woman to give a present to.” He shoved the bag closer to her hand.
Tentatively, she took it, quickly opening it.
Nestled in the tissue paper was a glass frog.
Grinning, she pulled it out.
“I felt bad for breaking your other one.”
It was insane how much she loved this gift.
Glancing at her face, he smiled. “The look on your face is all the reward I need.”
“Thank you.” She pulled the frog into her. It was a small thing, but it meant a lot to her he would get her a new one.