Page 133 of Mountain Boss

Anger with myself floods my system.

She’s suffering, again, because I singled her out.

But she’s sure as shit not moving into the fucking Bunk House, so she’s just going to have to deal with it.

Or she could move into the main house with me.

I stay there, bent over, head on her shoulder, for far too long with that idea crawling around in my brain.

I want that.

I want her with me. Badly.

But that would single her out even more. And it would out the fact that I’m not only treating her differently. I’m sleeping with her.

And I will be sleeping with her.

That wire tightens even further, my chest constricting.

Last night, after we left my back deck, I went to my nice, warm bed, and she slept like this.

On a hard mattress in a cold room.

I couldn’t’ve known.

I tell myself that, try to convince myself of that. But these cabins are my responsibility.

I should have known.

When I assigned her the Laundry Cabin, as a way to purposefully isolate her, as a way to try to make her quit, I should have checked.

If I had checked, she never would’ve slept on that fucking board.

She never would’ve slept in the cold.

She never would’ve gotten sick.

It’s my fault.

All of it.

And I need to fix it.

A shiver runs through Courtney, and I straighten.

I can’t change the past, but I can help her now.

Striding back to the main room, I close the curtain over the bedroom doorway, then flip on the light.

I’ll give her some medicine now so she can sleep through the night.

The more restful sleep she can get, the quicker she’ll recover.

Moving around the room, I pull the curtains closed. They aren’t blackout, but I don’t want the sun waking her up tomorrow.

As I’m tugging on the curtain above the crappy table, I pause.

Where’s that little cactus?

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