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She dropped a dollop of butter onto the skillet and let it melt while she pulled out the fresh eggs she got from Susan five miles north. She whisked the eggs with salt, pepper, and a dash of milk and cheese. Omelets it was. her brain was working slower than it had in ages, and she knew she was going to have to catch a nap soon otherwise she wouldn’t be able to function to head back out into the pastures. Thankfully, she was only in charge of breakfast, the one meal of the day she felt confident she wouldn’t burn or completely ruin.
With the eggs sufficiently whisked, Eli dumped them into the skillet and listened as it sizzled. She chopped onions efficiently, along with tomatoes, dumping them on top of the wet egg. She added more cheese, some strips of ham and then waited for it to finish cooking before folding it half.
It was exactly what she wanted. Eli made a second one, which turned out much better than her first since she’d already chopped everything to go, set it on a plate, and put it in the oven to keep warm. There was no sign of Sarah. In fact, she hadn’t even heard Sarah move since she’d been in the kitchen. The house was old, but Sarah’s room was right over the kitchen, so Eli had no doubt she’d hear her rummaging around if she was awake.
With a cup of coffee in front of her, Eli sat and waited another five minutes before giving in and eating her own breakfast. She left her coffee alone, even though she had poured herself a hefty cup. She wanted to sleep and to sleep well. She was through her omelet with no sign that Sarah was going to emerge.
Huffing in frustration, Eli washed her dish quickly and cleaned up from cooking. She grabbed a notepad and wrote that Sarah’s plate was in the oven if she wanted it. Then she stalked toward the back stairs near the door she’d come in and trudged downstairs to the basement.
The house was huge and had been for her and her family growing up. There were so many rooms upstairs that the basement hadn’t been necessary, but her father had insisted on having it. She enjoyed it now though, as it was her personal sanctuary when her house was overrun with guests. They weren’t allowed down there. She had her own living room, with satellite television she barely watched, and a large expansive bathroom her father had also insisted be down there. She hadn’t understood why when she was a kid and he was paying for the renovations, but she understood now. It was perfect to take away the stress and wash off the grime of a long day of work.
Eli pulled off her button up shirt and threw it into the hamper by her closet then stripped her jeans. She laid on her back on her bed, her stomach full and warm from the breakfast she had made. It was after eight in the morning, which was later than she had anticipated falling back asleep, but it would have to do. She didn’t have any other choice.
Her mind was pulled to Sarah—Sadie Bade—and Eli wondered just what she was doing in the middle of nowhere, in the high plains, with very few people around. With a grunt, Eli turned on her side and shut her eyes. She needed to stop thinking about Sarah. She couldn’t let her heart get tangled up in a mess that would only leave in a couple weeks and never return. She’d tried that once before and failed miserably. It had left her with a broken heart and a new rule. Never hook up with guests.
Sadie Bade, while she led a decently quiet life, was not quiet about her sexuality. Eli, on the other hand, was. Living in a small town where everyone talked about everyone meant she did not want to be the center of attention or the center of all the gossip. She wanted to just fly by in life as much as she could without causing a whole lot of fuss.
Eli pressed her face into her pillow. She shouldn’t even be having those thoughts. There was no reason to have them, but it certainly explained her gut reaction when she’d seen Sarah for the first time sitting in Mrs. Hargrave’s kitchen. She hadn’t been star struck, but if anyone asked—which they wouldn’t—that was the answer she was going to give.
Still, she did have to find a way to be a whole lot nicer to Sarah. She knew she’d been short with her. Most of that had been Eli’s exhaustion speaking, and her annoyance at having to stay up far later than she’d intended, but if Sarah did giveIndigoa good review, then it could mean a consistent paycheck for the foreseeable future, which would change her life.
Finding Sarah in the bathrobe in the middle of the night—that had almost been too much for her. Shivering, Eli tried to push the image from her mind, but she couldn’t. Pink skin, eyes wide awake with a hint of mischief in them. She’d seen that look before on Sarah’s face in some of the videos of her new releases. It had been quite a surprise to have that look aimed directly at her.
Eli’s heart picked up its pace just at the thought of what might have been going through Sarah’s mind, but again, she chided herself. Sarah was way out of her league, like, Eli’s league wasn’t even on the roster for Sarah’s race. There was no doubt Eli would never even step near Sarah in that manner, but still, she could dream. Couldn’t she?
With a hand thrown over her head as she turned onto her back, Eli groaned. She needed to sleep, not daydream about a guest, especially a guest who led a completely different, extraordinary life. The mundane pursuits of her life would never match up to tours, parties, and late-night jam sessions. She wasn’t even the least bit musical. Sure, she’d passed band in junior high, but she was pretty sure it was only because Mrs. Schmalzried felt horribly for her inability to play any instrument put in her hands. It didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate music to its fullest, she just couldn’t do a damn thing on any instrument.
With her energy picking back up, Eli drew in three deep and slow breaths. She couldn’t get a second wind—or was it a sixth or seventh at that point? She needed to sleep. Her bed called to her, and as soon as she rolled over onto her side and closed her eyes, she was out for the count.
* * *
When Sarah woke up, the sun shone brightly through the sheer curtains into her room. In all the drama from the night, she had forgotten to draw the thick curtains to let her sleep longer. She reached for her phone, only to remember she didn’t have it, and cursed again. With a hand to her side, she pushed up to lean against the headboard and let out a long sigh.
Her first night there had been a disaster. There was no way around that. It might make for a good song down the line when she was a bit further out from it, but for now, it was just annoying. Sarah had to squint at the analog clock on the nightstand for a full minute before she could process what it said.
It was well after noon. In fact, it was nearing one in the afternoon, which meant she had slept almost eight hours, which was the most she had slept straight in months. She shook her head. “What the hell?”
If the bed did that, then she would try to stay here every night she could. She needed that sleep. While she habitually ran on adrenaline, she knew good consistent sleep helped her creative process more than anything. Sarah turned her head to stare out the window, noting the large blue sky with clouds hanging overhead. Clearly the storm was gone. That was a bonus.
Her guitar had apparently spent the night on the bed with her, almost unmoved, which meant she had been in a deep sleep. Sarah shivered as she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Two weeks. She could do this. With renewed hope, she reached for her guitar and settled it into her lap. She strummed lightly, glad she had already tuned it the night before. Humming along with whatever melody came to mind, she closed her eyes and let the music flow from her chest, to her fingers, and through her lips.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, playing around with different melodies, harmonies, letting the music relax her. She never forgot how the simple timbre of a guitar and voice would calm her down when she most needed it. She ended on a sigh and settled the instrument next to her.
As much as Sarah would love to stay put and continue to play her music, she needed two things: caffeine and food. Eli had said something about breakfast, but she knew she was way past time for that, and hopefully she hadn’t pissed Eli off too much by missing it. She’d never stayed at a bed-and-breakfast before, and they were a bit of a foreign concept. Breakfast at a certain time instead of come-and-go was new. Unlike in hotels, where she just went with the flow and did what she needed to do to survive, she felt as though she owed it to Eli to show up when she was supposed to, and she had missed the moment.
Guilt swam into her chest, but she had to push it aside. If she didn’t get caffeine in her system soon, she was going to start in with a migraine, and that would be the end of her. She walked immediately to the window and pulled open the curtain, squinting at the bright sunlight as it shone on her face. It was a beautiful day. She couldn’t tell if it was cold or not, but it looked gorgeous. The earth had clearly soaked up most of the rain but remained a deep moist, dark color.
Sarah imagined everything would be green in June when the rainy season Eli had been talking about ended—a dark lush green that was a full of life. With her lips pressed together, she flicked a glance back to her guitar and opted to try it out later when she had caffeine running through her veins.
Pulling on a loose pair of red-and-green plaid pajama bottoms over her boxer briefs, and a thin white tank top over her bare chest, Sarah unlocked the door to her room, pushed it open, and walked barefoot down the hall. Eli hadn’t given her a grand tour of the house the night before, not that she could be blamed. It was certainly late enough, but it meant Sarah had to find her own way around.
Everything in the house was still and quiet. The floorboards creaked on the stairs as she went down, her weight making them move slightly as she stepped on them. Curious as to what the rest of the house looked like in the daylight, Sarah kept her eyes wide open as she moved through the house. She landed herself in a den of sorts. There was a large stone fireplace on the far wall, a piano stationed next to it, and no television in sight. There were couches and chairs facing different directions depending on what someone may want to focus on.
It was stunning. The piano was another beast Sarah was tempted to tame. Sarah tiptoed over to it and ran her fingers along the cold wood. An upright, not a super expensive one, but a beautiful one. The wood was stained a dark brown color with hints of red. It had been ages since she’d played an upright. Normally she was on a grand piano or a keyboard.
Sarah opened the lid. She found middle C and pressed the edge of her thumb against it. The sound rang through the room with a clear tone. Sarah closed her eyes and brought her free fist up to her forehead. She’d come back shortly.
With one thing on her mind, she searched for the kitchen. The scent of coffee hit her, but it was muted and burned. Wrinkling her nose, Sarah followed it and stepped into a very modern kitchen that she was not expecting in a house that boasted such history. The stove had eight burners, all gas, there were two ovens under it. Everything was stainless steel and spotless.
