Connie Cox – Christmas Eve Delivery (страница 8)
Her car. All that she owned was in that car. The stark reality was enough to push away the blanket of sleep that weakened her.
Her brain jump-started and she remembered who Sissy was—Jordan’s sister.
Jordan. When had he become Jordan in her head instead of Dr. Hart?
“I’ll follow Sissy.”
Deseré should have let the old man drive her.
Bleary-eyed, she slammed on her brakes and slowed enough to just miss the bumper of Sissy’s truck as the vet turned off the two-lane road onto a crumbling black-topped street that had deteriorated on the edges so that it was only the width of a car and a half.
Carefully, she put distance between her car and the truck in front of her, on alert for sudden brake lights.
And her caution was validated when Sissy slowed her truck to a crawl and turned into a dirt and gravel drive without bothering to use her blinkers first.
Trees crowded the driveway—and Deseré used the description of driveway very loosely. How far away from the street was the house?
And then they turned a steep curve and there it was, a farmhouse that could have come from a movie set, or her dreams.
Headlights showed a huge, two-storied, white-painted wooden house with gray shingles and a darker gray double door centered under a deep covered wraparound porch. Rocking chairs promised the good life once the grimy cushions were replaced and they were swept clear of cobwebs.
If Deseré had to pick out the perfect picture of a potential home, this would be it.
Which meant she immediately put herself on guard.
Nothing was this easy. This neat. This perfect.
Where was the catch?
Ahead of her, Sissy had her arm stuck out her truck’s window as she wildly gestured to an empty carport that branched off from the drive.
Deseré interpreted that to mean, “Park here.” She could always move it later if she was wrong.
She pulled into the expansive parking place, taking up most of the room by sloppily not squaring her car with the open space. The lack of order felt off, but not as off as her head, which chose that moment to swim in that dizzy, depleted way that meant she’d gone as far as she could today.
Sissy inspected her parking job and clearly found it lacking. With a frown, she shrugged and said, “Jordan will just have to deal with it.”
Deseré knew she should ask for clarification but right now she didn’t really want to know. Knowing might mean exerting more energy than she had to give.
Grabbing her backpack and wriggling her arms through the straps, she breathed deeply to gather her strength for wrestling her rolling suitcase from the back seat.
“Since Jordan has hired you
Deseré felt like Sissy was waiting for a reply.
“It’s large,” she answered politely, reserving judgment until she saw the inside of the house.
Sissy nudged her aside and pulled the suitcase out for her, handling it like it was full of popcorn. “I’ll carry this one for you.”
Normally, Deseré would have protested, but she didn’t have it in her. Instead, she muttered a tired “Thanks” and pulled her purse and smaller duffel bag from the front seat of the car.
On autopilot, she followed Sissy up the three steps to the front porch then through the wooden and etched-glass front door.
Sissy paused as she looked down the short wing to the left then up to the second floor. She bit her lower lip and her brow creased as she seemed to be puzzling out a dilemma. “I’m not sure where to put you.”
“Anywhere is fine.” Deseré mustered up a polite smile, wondering how many other tenants shared the boarding house.
Sissy quit deliberating and nodded her head. “Okay, then. This way.” She headed up a staircase lit with just enough wall sconces to cast shadows on the floral patterned carpet runner covering each oak-plank step, dragging Deseré’s large suitcase over each one.
Deseré didn’t need to respond. She would only have been talking to Sissy’s back. Instead, she meekly followed the diminutive woman hefting the large suitcase to the end of the hallway to the left.
Sissy swung open the last door to reveal a bedroom. The room was enormous, bigger than the whole living room and den combination in Deseré’s old apartment.
The sight of that luxurious bed put the rest of the room into the background. A huge queen-size bed held a half-dozen big pillows propped against the headboard and the promise of sweet dreams.
A calming lavender color scheme and trophies and blue ribbons displayed on every inch of shelf space gave the room a mixed attitude of super-girly but highly competitive.
“This was my room before I moved out. I should probably pack up some of this stuff, huh? But the closet’s cleared out so at least you can unpack.” She pointed to a closed door next to a substantial desk. “The bathroom’s through that door.”
Sissy dumped the suitcase outside the bifold louvered doors of a closet then shoved aside a group of trophies on a wide chest of drawers, took Deserés duffel bag from her and plopped it onto the cleared space.
An unexpected expression of doubt crossed Sissy’s eyes. “I hope this will do.”
“It’s great.” Deseré didn’t need to dredge up a fake smile. It came quite naturally as she emphasized her answer. “Really. It’s wonderful.”
“Well, okay, then.” Sissy looked out into the hallway, obviously ready to make her exit. “I’m sure Jordan will straighten out any questions you might have in the morning.”
Absently, Deseré nodded, wishing Sissy would leave. Falling into that lovely bed and stretching out her back was the only thing she wanted to straighten out right now.
“Good night, then.” Sissy didn’t wait for a reply. Her duty done, she started out the bedroom door.
“Good night,” Deseré said to Sissy’s retreating backside, then closed the door as soon as she thought it polite to do so.
Her first inclination was to fall into that bed and sleep for a week. But her mouth had a sour taste that couldn’t be ignored and grit coated her face and hands.
Cleanliness warred with exhaustion. A quick wash-up would be worth the extra time and energy.
Opening the solid door next to the desk, Deseré was sure she’d opened the door to bathroom heaven.
The modernized bathroom was the size of a normal bedroom, with two basins and a huge vanity. The size of each of the basins put the discount store’s basins she’d been spot-bathing in to shame. A wall-to-wall mirror hung over the vanity, reflecting the light from nickel-plated fixtures that caught the atmosphere of farmhouse yet produced enough light for professional make-up application.
An alcove held the toilet separately from the frosted glass doors, which must hide the shower enclosure.
Immediately, every inch of skin on Deseré’s body wanted scrubbing. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering where Jordan would be showering tonight. Would anyone be washing his back?
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