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This was very good.
He looked at her, sitting and silently watching him reading her papers.
He smiled at her and held out his hand. She slowly placed her palm in his hand.
"Travis Blake, at your service, Miss Taylor," he teased her and a blush spread over her face. He reluctantly released her hand and became serious again.
"This is good, Selena. This is going to make everything much easier for you. I want you to know you're safe here. But for now, as far as the men are concerned, you're a young boy named Manuel. This is my house. All the men stay in the bunkhouse.
I'll keep them away from the house and this room, and you can have time to heal.
You need to sleep and rest for a few days, get your strength back. That room through there will be your private bathroom. It has shampoo, soap, towels and stuff.
You use anything you want, and tell me if there is anything you need. Do you understand?"
Tears came to her eyes as she nodded her head. " Gracias."
He smiled. "Say thank you."
"Thank you, T-Travis."
His nerves tied in knots at her soft reply and the shy look on her face. He decided to get the hell out while the getting was good.
As soon as he left the room, Selena braced herself for more pain as she moved to get off the bed. She was grimy and filthy all over, but still way too weak to attempt a shower. But the urgent need she had for the bathroom wasn't going to go away.
She slid her feet to the ground and balanced herself with one hand on the bedpost.
Her head swam. He was right. She was very weak. She stumbled to the bathroom, and made use of the facilities. The room was clean. Small, but very functional, it looked
like heaven compared to what she had been doing without for the last few days.
He had said to use whatever she wanted, so she looked around while she was in there. A small drawer off the vanity contained toothpaste and several brand new toothbrushes. She quickly chose a pink one, unwrapped it and moved to the sink.
She thoroughly cleaned her teeth and mouth. Looking into the mirror, she gasped at her reflection there. One eye was swollen almost completely closed, and was bruised black and purple around the whole area. The side of her face was grazed, and showed pink skin underneath, where she must have hit the pavement when she fell.
She found a small tube of antibiotic ointment as well as a bottle of aspirin. She swallowed two aspirin, and carefully applied the ointment all over the scraped area. She felt a slight relief immediately.
Somehow, miraculously, her hair was still in the baseball cap. She knew it was filthy, but she couldn't find the strength to shower. She was afraid she might pass out in there, and need help. It would have to wait.
She slipped out of her jeans and bra, but left on her panties and t-shirt. The shirt came down to the top of her thighs, almost covering her panties. She didn't have anything else to sleep in.
She made her way back to the bed, and crawled inside and covered herself up.
The door was shut, but not locked, and she felt safe with it like that. If anyone here had wanted to hurt her, it would already have happened.
With the comfort of the bed and covers around her, her stomach fed and satisfied, she completely relaxed and finally let herself think of her family and grieve. There hadn't been time before and so she had pushed the thoughts away, her instinct for survival taking precedence. But now she felt safe for the moment, and the heartache and tears washed over her.
****
When dusk came, Travis slipped into Selena's room with another tray of soup and some slices of orange. The lights were out, and only a soft glow came from the window as the sun set in the west.
He quietly placed the tray on the desk, and moved the chair back over toward it, in case it was too heavy for her to deal with. He moved back to the bed to check on her. What he saw, almost had him groaning out loud. She was dressed only in the t-shirt, and she had kicked the covers down to about mid-thigh. He could see the strip of milky white thighs between where the shirt ended and the covers began.
Her legs were slim and looked like silk. His eyes travelled up, and he could see the edge of her panties, covering the feminine softness. The shadow of soft hair made his guts clench. The women he had been with in the last few years were all highly experienced, and it was the fashion for them to be free of hair. The sight of her, semi-exposed to his gaze, hit him as completely innocent, intensely feminine and highly desirable.
His eyes moved to the tiny waist and the soft swell of her breasts. She looked delicate and fragile, and he wondered at just how she had come into his possession. Her face was very bruised, but the darkness made it almost impossible to see how severe the damage was. She had either pulled the baseball cap off, or it had come off with her movements, and it lay neglected on the floor beside the bed. He bent and picked it up and put it on the bedside table. Then he realized he would be able to see her hair, and he looked again. He exhaled a sharp hiss from deep in his throat. Her hair was still in a ponytail, but it was long and silky and lay against her white skin. He imagined what it would be like, loose and flowing down around her.
She slept on while he continued to study her. Emotions he hadn't expected washed through him. She reminded him of a small injured bird he had found when he was a boy. The fierce need to protect, to heal, ran through his system. And a disturbing need to stroke, to pet. His heart beat loudly in his chest.
