Page 6 of Open Arms

“Be right there!” I hollered back, striding towards him with purposeful steps. My mind ticked off tasks like a metronome, each step bringing me closer to the next problem to solve.

“Keep her calm. I’ll check on her in a minute,” I instructed before veering off toward the delivery truck. A balancing act, this life of mine. But I’ve gotten pretty damn good at it.

“Morning, Mason,” greeted the delivery guy, tipping his cap. “Where do you want these?”

“Round back, by the new stables. I’ll help you unload.” I grabbed a sack of feed, muscles flexing under the weight, and we fell into a quick rhythm. Stack, haul, repeat. My phone vibratedagain, a reminder from Abby’s school about an upcoming parent-teacher conference.

“Got a sec?” I asked the driver, who nodded as I shot off a reply confirming my attendance. Multitasking was second nature by now—like breathing or riding a horse.

“Thanks for the help,” the driver said once we’d finished, slapping my shoulder before climbing back into his cab.

“Anytime,” I assured him. I watched the truck rumble away, dust kicking up behind it, and allowed myself a small smile. One chore down, several dozen to go. And with June watching Abby in the afternoons, at least one worry had been lassoed and tied off.

“Alright, let’s see what’s got the Miller mare spooked,” I muttered to myself, heading back to the stables. Every step was another note in the symphony of ranch life—a tune I knew by heart, even if it changed tempo every now and then.

4

Chloe

The scentof lavender and eucalyptus wafted through the air as I arranged fresh towels on the massage table. Soft instrumental music played in the background, creating a soothing ambiance in the treatment room.

“Chloe, can you help me with something?” Lisa, one of the massage therapists, poked her head in.

“Sure, what’s up?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to disrupt the tranquil atmosphere.

Lisa grimaced. “Mrs. Baker is asking for extra-firm pressure again. My hands are killing me after yesterday’s deep tissue marathon. Can you grab me some of the CBD lotion for my hands?”

I suppressed a smile. I’d already learned Mrs. Baker was notorious for being a bit demanding. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” Lisa’s relief was palpable. “I owe you one.”

I scurried off to grab the lotion I knew the therapists loved for their hands. As I looked for it on the shelf in the break room, I noticed the collection sheet the therapists used to track theirtips. My mind drifted to my dwindling bank account. The rent at the motel was due tomorrow, and I was running dangerously low on funds.

I bit my lip, anxiety creeping in. Payday wasn’t until next Friday. How was I going to make it through the week?

A knock at the door startled me. Eryn Blake’s head popped in, her amber eyes sparkling.

“Hey Chloe, got a sec?” she whispered.

My stomach did a little flip. The owner wanting to talk? That can’t be good. “Um, sure,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady. I held up the lotion. “I just have to get this to Lisa, but I’ll be right back.” She nodded and moved out of the doorway so I could scoot by her.

Back in the break room a moment later, Eryn’s brow furrowed. “I just wanted to check in. How are you settling in here?”

“Oh, great.” I tried to smile, but felt my cheek twitch and was sure it came out as more of a grimace.

“Is everything okay? You seemed a bit . . . off earlier.”

She’s referring to this morning when was stuck in my head, counting my bills piling up. I forced a broad smile this time. “Oh, I’m fine. Just, you know, Monday blues.”

Eryn wasn’t buying it. She leaned in, her voice gentle. “Chloe, honey, I can tell something’s up. What’s going on?”

My resolve crumbled.”It’s . . . it’s nothing, really. I’m just a little worried about money. And, well, I need to find a new place to stay soon.”

“Oh no,” Eryn’s eyes widened. “Are you having trouble with rent?”

I nodded, shame burning my cheeks. “The motel’s getting expensive. I thought it would be okay with my savings, but they raised the rent for my second week.” The shame I felt radiatedout of my pores and my eyes welled up. Here I was, complaining to my boss. And not only that, but a rich heiress who probably never had a moment’s worry about money.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Eryn asked, her tone more concerned than accusatory.

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