“I said whenever, not whatever,” I scolded him with a cheeky grin. The others laughed and continued to eat the seared, deer meat and veggies I’d prepared for them.
Kemper kept opening his mouth like he wanted to say something but would immediately shut it.
“Is there something you want to say, Kemp?” I asked. A sweet and innocent blush covered him, and I found myself wanting to hug him. I shook my head at myself, willing those emotions to go away. I welcomed my familiar chant that kept me away from Josiah during times of weakness.
Not yours. Not yours. Not yours.
“Oh, uhm. I–” he started then coughed. “I . . . uh, was wondering if you could bring me lunch one day? There is an apple orchard, near my work building, I think you’d like.” His words seemed rushed and unsure.
“I’d love that, Kemp,” I replied.
“Well, I might as well request lunch, also,” Maverick joined in.
My eyes flashed to his. He looked calm, and memories of our intimate time in the clinic flooded me. I wanted to spend time with him, but I wasn’t sure I could face the clinic just yet. I still felt too raw from my experience there.
Maverick sensed my unease and quickly recovered. “Oh! But, since the clinic is so close to here, how about I come home for lunch?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, that would be lovely.” Once again, I found myself feeling thankful for Maverick’s perceptiveness.
The rest of the dinner, they spent arguing over what they wanted to eat. I excused myself back to my room and politely declined their offer to participate in game night.
The next day, I spent the early morning in my room while they ate muffins I’d prepared ahead of time. Once everyone left, I started cleaning their home, similarly to what I did in the Stonewell Household. I mopped and scrubbed their floors, bleached the bathrooms, and washed their sheets. It took the entirety of my morning and almost left me running late for lunch with Jacob.
It was important to me that I earned my place here. Cyler promised that everyone earned their keep in the Dormas province, and he wasn’t kidding. Every non-disabled person contributed to the running of this town. Children collected water from the well first thing in the morning. Even the few elderly we had, baked or knitted clothes. It was a small, but a beautifully functioning town.
Jacob worked at the train station, handling the imports and exports of supplies. He had a small team of men that dealt with the transactions and ensured that no one was entering Dormas without permission.
The station was a good hour-long walk away from the house, so I lightly jogged to be there on time. When I arrived, Jacob was shirtless and lifting large boxes onto the train. His defined chest and deep-set abs made my mouth water. Beads of sweat dripped down his caramel stomach with each movement. He was muscular in ways that made my head spin.
Before I could gather myself, Jacob caught me staring at his swift, sharp movements. I was rewarded with one of his mouth-watering smiles.
“Hey, Ash. Like what you see?” he asked, playfully.
I decided that placing more distance between us was necessary. “No. I was just concerned that you aren’t drinking enough water. Come here and eat your lunch.”
Jacob jumped off the train in one swoop and jogged over to where I was standing. He grabbed the basket full of food from my hands and laughed. “Your hair is extra wild today.”
He’d noticed. My unruly curls seemed to grow more prominent in the Dormas humidity, and my jog to the train station didn’t help things.
His comment made me feel self-conscious, and I placed my hand on top of my hair. Once he had the basket, I nodded my head and began walking back to the house.
“Where are you going?” he called after me.
I turned slightly with a fake smile. “Back to the manor. I have more chores to complete before everyone gets back home.”
He chased after me. “What’s got you so distant, lately?” he asked.
I sighed and turned to greet him fully. “I don’t mean to be distant. I’m . . . I’m just still trying to find my place here.” I shrugged.
“Well, let me simplify things for you,” he began while gripping my soft hand. “Right now, your place is beside me while we enjoy lunch together.”
I smiled at his comment, and we both walked over to the train station where he had his office. Once inside, he pulled up a crate to his mahogany desk for me to sit on. We then began eating the honey-lemon chicken I made.
“What is your absolute favorite thing to do?” Jacob asked before taking a large gulp of water. I considered his question for a moment then answered.
“I love to paint. To sketch.”
Jacob looked at me curiously; it seemed that my answer caught him off guard.
“Well, that would explain the new shipment I received today. Cyler ordered a ton of art supplies.” Jacob licked his fingers of the lemony syrup from the chicken, then stood.
After motioning for me to follow, Jacob and I made our way over to the small warehouse where all inventory was taken and organized for distribution around the town. After rummaging through a few boxes, he cracked open a crate and removed the grass packaging. I peered over his shoulder and was shocked to find a seemingly endless supply of sketching materials, canvases, and paintbrushes. I gasped at the high quality of the supplies.
My heart warmed instantly towards Cyler. Despite his gruff exterior, he was perceptive and thoughtful.
Jacob was a sweaty mess, but I embraced him tightly. His thick arms wrapped around me, pulling us closer. I rested my cheek against his bare chest and reveled in the close contact.
After a few moments, I released my hold on him and backed away. “I’m sorry, Jacob. I didn’t mean to . . . uh . . .” I tried explaining, but my words fell short.
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he said.
But I wanted to explain myself. I needed to tell him why I was so eager for contact.
"My parents passed when I was three. I guess my childhood lacked affection. Aside from Josiah . . . Master Stonewell, no one showed me any kindness. And now I’m here, surrounded by freedom and respect. I’m just not sure what to do. I don’t know who I am,” I admitted quietly. The truth of it rang through the warehouse, and shame filled me.
Jacob looked at me. I expected to find pity in his chocolate eyes. Instead, he peered at me with a look of awe.
"You are a survivor. An artist. A giving, selfless, beautiful woman with a big heart,” Jacob said.
We both stood in silence for a moment. The tension between us was palpable. Suffocating. How could I still feel so much love for Josiah, but be inexplicably drawn to Jacob?
Jacob allowed me to take a sketchbook and some pencils home, saying he would bring the rest in the community transport tonight, since it was too much to carry.
I took a leisurely pace back to the Black Home. I spent each moment observing the Dormas community and scouting out images that caught my eye and demanded I sketch them. In taking my time, I was able to see the real beauty of what they’d built in this town. People were playful, happy, and genuine. The shops were dusty, yet full of life and promise. Men nodded at me with broad smiles as I walked.
Once I got to the end of the street where the Black home sat, I decided to sit beneath a large tree and sketch the town. I drew a long road with buildings on either side, and I captured the dust that blew around with each passerby. I felt relaxed and completely at ease for the first time since leaving the Stonewells. Occasionally, my mind drifted back to thoughts of Josiah while I drew.