Taken By The Bull

Chapter 6

It wasn’t the morning light that stirred Staci from her sleep, that forced her to open her eyes into an unfamiliar room with white walls and a high ceiling, but the sound of her cellphone chiming with a cheery tune.

Where am I… She wondered even as she sat up, her natural conditioning driving her to answer that summoning melody. Next to her, something shifted in the big clean-smelling bed; and she turned her head to see a Steve-shaped lump turning over in his sleep, throwing an arm over his face to shield his eyes from the light.

Oh… Yeah. In a rush she remembered yesterday and last night; the barn, the shower, the bedroom; and the nice dinner that happened in the middle of all of that. A small and secret smile pulled on the corners of her lips as she rubbed her eyes and pushed back the sheets, swinging her bare feet down onto the cool wooden flooring below.

Quietly she rose and padded over to the pale wood dresser where her bag had come to rest, and reached for the phone. Before her fingers found it, it fell silent; it had taken her a little while to wake up, after all.

Pushing past the clutter of notebooks, pens and cosmetics in her bag she reached for her phone. Her fingers brushed past something unfamiliar, lightweight, shifting beneath her touch; frowning, she withdrew it. The ring on the chain – oh, of course! She’d forgotten all about it. As she went to place it quietly on the dresser top, the ring slipped and detached itself, gravity aiding it in its escape from the silver chain via its broken clasp. It pinged lightly across the floor, rolling under the dresser.

Staci flinched at the sound, and turned to see if it had woken Steve; he shifted slightly in his sleep as though a finger had poked him in the small of the back, but his eyes didn’t open. Hurriedly, as if she was in danger of being caught doing something she shouldn’t, she got on her knees and rescued the ring from the dust bunnies and forgotten socks that had made a home under the dresser.

This belonged to his father, Dawn said. She set the ring and its chain quietly back on the pale wood surface. She paused, looking at the thing a moment, before remembering her original mission to check her messages.

Reaching inside her bag again, she withdrew the black smartphone with its lit-up screen from within. Squinting at the readout, she saw an unfamiliar number with a local area code. Her brows drew together in puzzlement before she recognized it as the number of the hotel she was staying at – or rather, that she was supposed to be staying at.

I wonder what they wanted? After all, they’re not my parents, it’s not like they’ll be wanting to know why I didn’t come home last night. I’ll call back after I’ve washed up… How is it nearly eleven, already?

The sunlight filtering through the curtains struck her in bars and dapples as the light breeze outside blew in through the window, calming and cool on her bare skin. It almost felt like a shame to get dressed and head down the hall to the bathroom, but… Well, Steve didn’t live alone, and there was no need for Seth to be getting an eyeful.

Up on tip-toes to keep from waking Steve, she picked her cut-offs up from the floor and slipped into them; then her bra and shirt.

Ten minutes later when she returned from the bathroom, hair back in place and her face clean of lingering traces of last night’s makeup, Steve was gone. Frowning, she slipped her phone into her pocket and made her way downstairs, light as a cat; like a child who was up after everyone else had gone to sleep, and didn’t want to be caught. The scent of cooking food – eggs and toast, perhaps? – drifted up as she made her way down.

The foot of the staircase led into the front hall; as her feet hit the bottom stairs, she saw Seth passing by her. She stopped in place as if she were playing Musical Statues; but he’d already seen her.

“Well, good morning.” He paused, his expression unreadable as he reached up and touched the brim of his wide hat; formal, polite. “Nice to see you again, Miss Wilder.”

The politeness and formality of that greeting was a relief, really; it was easy to respond to. It would certainly have been harder to know what to say, had he offered a smirking grin and asked how last night went. Still, in some ways it was a little… Odd. Almost as if this was their first time meeting. “Good morning, Seth. Beautiful weather today, isn’t it?”

“It’s the season for it.” He paused, biting his lip, casting a glance towards the door; no, she wasn’t imagining his discomfort. “Let’s just hope it keeps up, and you won’t be hit with one of our thunderstorms on your drive back to Jackson.”

“Uh, yeah.” Recalling the conversation that had been unwittingly caught on her voice recorder, she remembered what Seth had said to Steve when he thought no one could hear him. “Lay off doing what you do, until she’s packed off back to Jackson… All I know is, we can’t have her figuring out exactly what we do. Or the whole house of cards comes tumbling down.” As nice as he was, he did seem awfully keen on being rid of her. She shifted from foot to another, staring down at the white-painted stair rail under her hand. “No one likes driving in the rain.”

“It’s a dangerous game to be playing, that’s for sure.” Was there something odd in his tone? Glancing up to his face, she saw that he wasn’t looking at her; just staring down at the cellphone in his hand. “I got some business to be taking care of, Miss Wilder. Have a good trip, if I don’t see you before you go.”

“I – I will. And you too, Seth.” The response was automatic, polite – and completely nonsensical. After all, he wasn’t going on a trip. He was staying right here. It didn’t matter, though; even as she kicked herself for her clumsy words, he was nodding, smiling, and heading out the door.

Shrugging her shoulders slightly, Staci turned the corner at the foot of the stairs and headed into the kitchen. She could deal with just about anything, after all – but not before breakfast.

Steve was standing by the counter, making French toast. Her stomach rumbled immediately, instinctively at the smell; though she could only look at Steve himself, his shirt unbuttoned, a tall and wide-shouldered shape in front of the window.

“Well, hey there.” He glanced over his shoulder, smiled, and flipped the contents of the griddle-pan with an expert touch. “You look well-rested.”

I think that’s his way of saying I look pretty. “No thanks to you, and your snoring.” She was smiling as she dropped into the chair and propped her chin up on her elbows, looking at his bowed head and quick-moving hands. “That smells wonderful.”

“Can’t be working all day on an empty stomach.”

“Ain’t that true.” Work. Ugh. With a sigh she pulled the phone from her pocket and slid her finger across the screen, unlocking it. She had two voice messages. Must have gotten another while I was cleaning up. Oh boy.

The first was from the hotel receptionist, asking her to call back because someone had left a message for her at the front desk. The other was from Mikey, asking where she was; he seemed worried. Staci felt a flush of guilt as she remembered that she never did answer his text message yesterday.

I’ll deal with this after breakfast, she thought as her gaze drifted up from the screen and rested on Steve again, her expression softening. One thing at a time.