Page 92 of Saddle and Scent
The problem has been having anyone around who cares enough to notice when I'm not.
"I feel like I don't have much choice in the matter if you're all going to be around," I mumble, though there's no real complaint in my voice.
Honestly, the idea of having people who refuse to let me neglect my own wellbeing is more comforting than I want to admit.
"Exactly," he says with satisfaction, pressing another quick kiss to my forehead before straightening up. "Speaking of which, did you like the new room setup?"
The room.
Right.
The mysterious transformation that I still don't understand.
"What do you mean?" I ask, though I suspect I already know the answer. "I woke up in a completely different room than where I went to sleep."
"This place has at least four bedrooms," he explains, seeming pleased that I've noticed. "But they were pretty much filled with stuff that needed to be cleared out. We figured you'd be more comfortable in a space that was actually designed for sleeping."
We.
Of course this was a group effort.
Of course they coordinated a complete room makeover while I was unconscious.
"Come on," he says, taking my hand and leading me back toward the room I woke up in. "Take a proper look at everything."
I follow him back into the space, seeing it with fresh eyes now that I know it was intentionally created for me. Every detail speaks to careful observation and genuine care—the colors are soothing without being childish, the furniture is functional but beautiful, the lighting is warm without being dim.
But then I notice something that makes me gasp.
In the corner, positioned perfectly to catch the morning light, is the most beautiful wooden vanity I've ever seen.
It's exactly like the ones I used to dream about as a child, the kind I'd imagine when playing with Polly Pocket dolls and creating elaborate fantasy bedrooms in my head.
Delicate carved details, a large mirror with perfect clarity, small drawers with brass pulls that probably contain more luxury than I've ever owned.
It's perfect.
It's exactly what I would have chosen if I'd had unlimited resources and perfect taste.
It's the kind of thing that suggests someone has been paying very close attention to my dreams for a very long time.
"How did you do this so quickly?" I ask, running my fingers along the smooth wood surface.
Because this level of transformation doesn't happen overnight.
This kind of coordination requires planning, shopping, careful execution.
This kind of perfection takes time.
Wes's expression shifts to something almost shy, which is so unlike his usual confident demeanor that it catches me completely off guard.
"We actually had this stuff already bought," he admits.
Already bought.
As in, purchased before I even returned to Saddlebrush.
As in, they've been planning this for... how long?
