Broken Hero

I park my bike next to the sign for reception and head inside.

The small lobby is as welcoming as the outside, with neutral, warm colors and a wide oak desk. A woman my age sits behind it, her head bent over a paperback.

I step right up. “Hi there.”

“Oh, hello! I’m sorry that I didn’t see you there. How can I help you?”

“I’m Lucy Rhodes, and I’m here to see Oliver and Sarah Morris?”

She gives me a wide smile. “Yes, about the spa section, right? The idea is so exciting.”

“It is, isn’t it? I’m thrilled.”

“My name is Mandy. I work as the receptionist here.” She pats her book. “We’re not always super busy.”

“Are you from Claremont?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m from a town a few miles over. It’s a long story, but… Oh, here he is now.”

We fall silent as Oliver emerges from the back. He’s still wearing the button-down and the dark pair of jeans, topped off with a nearly impassive expression. My nerves return as he nods at Mandy and strides towards me.

“Lucy.””Hi.”

“Glad you could make it. Let’s head out, and I’ll show you the space.”

I fall into step beside him, down the stairs and out into the warm afternoon sun. His steps are long, and I have to move fast to keep up with him.

“This place is beautiful,” I venture. “I can see why it’s called a retreat as well as a ranch.”

“It’s effective marketing.”

I had spent the afternoon at the bakery on my phone, reading up on the ranch’s website in between customers. I have to ask. “So, you offer trail riding? This place actually has stables as well?”

“Yes, we do. It’s one of the major draws for our guests.”

In the distance, I hear a horse neighing and excitement pulses through me. It’s been many years since I went riding, but the small-town girl I once was is itching to be set free. This place is heavenly.

“It’s right up ahead. It’s not much, but it has potential.” Oliver points to a small, white building at the end of a short gravel trail. It has a red-tiled roof and a winding path leading up to the main entrance. Behind it, trees form a green thicket. I can hear birds chirping.

“Wow.”

He snorts. “It’s probably not what you’re used to, but I think it might turn out well. Give us a chance.”

“No, no, this looks perfect. This place is beautiful, Oliver.”

He doesn’t respond, just opens the door to the old house. There’s a small hallway, which opens up into a wide, open room. Huge windows line the back wall. They let in plenty of light and a gorgeous view of the meadow, with trees in the background. It’s perfect.

“We’ve used this as a reception hall at times, but it’s too far off and too small, really. There are two rooms back here that can be used for whatever you like…” He leads us through the wide space, opening the door to a secondary, smaller room. There’s only a couch in it now, the white walls bare.

“This could be a treatment room,” I say. It’s easy to picture it-the massage table, the soft lighting I’d put in. Fresh flowers. A low bench with oils and materials. It would be tranquil.

We head back out into the main room. The view from the windows is truly astonishing-nothing but wilderness and Texas summer.

“Good. Sarah should be here now.” He looks down at his watch and the sleeve of his shirt rides up, revealing a tanned forearm. I force myself to look away. I don’t think I’ve ever known a man before who exudes so much…man. Claire said he was thirty-three, which makes him seven years older than me. He’s nothing like the men my own age.

I clear my throat. “Your sister? We met the other day, in the bakery, I think.”

“Yes, she mentioned that. This was her idea.”

“I’ll have to thank her.”

He nods, looking around at the space. I find it difficult to see any obvious resemblance between the bubbly woman I’d met in the bakery and Oliver, with his quietness and his restless eyes. She felt like his complete opposite.

“She’s lovely,” I say.

He snorts again. “Yeah, we’re different that way. Sarah is… stubborn.”

“And you aren’t?”

His gaze meets mine, and one side of his lip curls. “Perhaps I am too, sometimes.”

We don’t say anything for a long moment, eyes still locked.

“Hello! I’m here!” A woman’s voice comes floating from the doorway.

Oliver breaks eye contact. “You’re late.”

“No, I’m not, Ollie, you’re early. Hi Lucy! I’m so happy to have you here.”

I can’t help but smile in response to her wide grin. Curls bounce around her face, and she’s wearing a bright green dress today. Sarah is a force of nature.

“I’m happy to be here.”

She reaches out and gives my arm an enthusiastic squeeze. “Oh, I’m just so excited about this! I think this space has so much potential, don’t you? You’re going to have to tell us what you need and what you want. I’ve only been to a spa twice, and I’m sure they were nothing compared to where you’ve worked. Did Ollie show you the back rooms? Come, let me-”

Oliver cuts her off. “I’ve shown her the potential treatment room. I’ll let you two brainstorm design ideas in peace. Here.” He pulls out a notebook from his back pocket, a pen tucked through the spiral. “Make a list of everything you think is needed and we’ll go through it later. I’ll make sure the work starts first thing tomorrow.”

I smile at him. “Thank you. Truly.”NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says gruffly. “There’s still a lot of work to do before we get this going.”

“Don’t be a downer! This is going to be great, you just have to visualize the finished product. Now go.” Sarah shoos him out. “We have interior design to discuss.”

As soon as the door shuts behind him, she turns to me with a wide smile. She clasps her hands together. “Tell me honestly. What do you really think of this place?”

“It’s amazing. The room in the back will make for a great treatment room. I have a portable massage table that we can set up, and then change the decor a bit. Is there a bathroom here?”

“Yes, with a shower, too. You just tell me what you need, and I’ll get it. I found some photos online, would you like to see?”