Her Christmas Cowboy (The Wyoming Cowboy #5) - Jessica Clare Page 0,25
“Have you seen Donner?”
He nodded and walked into the living room. She followed, and to her surprise, he opened the bedroom door and waited, watching her. Amy stepped inside and bit back another gasp of surprise.
The ceiling, once a gaping wound that led to the attic, had been covered. A blue waterproof tarp stretched from one end of the ceiling to the other, taped at the edges of the wall. He’d done this for her. And there was a freshly bathed Donner on a big, plaid cushioned dog bed at the foot of her bed. Her bed wasn’t a water-bloated mildew-scented mess, either. The bed had been made, a new set of sheets and blankets that she didn’t recognize neatly tucked in. She touched the bed, wondering how he’d gotten the mattress so clean after she’d spent days trying to get the smell out . . . and realized it wasn’t her mattress at all. This one was softer and didn’t have a broken coil at the foot.
It was a different bed.
He’d done all this for her.
More tears misted her gaze, and she stared at her room with a sense of wonder and a growing sense of panic. Amy turned to Caleb, swallowing the knot in her throat. “You did all this?”
He watched her with those long-lashed eyes, and after a moment, he nodded.
Amy was overwhelmed. He’d fixed things in a day that she’d been asking to be fixed for months now. He’d gotten her a new bed so she wouldn’t have to sleep on the uncomfortable love seat again. He’d retrieved her car and ordered a part for it.
He’d even washed her dog.
She was really going to cry now, because it was wonderful, and yet she couldn’t appreciate it, not truly. “I can’t afford to pay you,” she whispered. It was humiliating. When she was with Blake, they’d had lots of money. Her parents had had money, too. Now that she was alone and on her own, she was utterly penniless, and it was a hard contrast to get used to.
Caleb just blinked. He walked away from the bedroom door, and she followed him, uncertain and guilty. She waited for him to chastise her, to tell her to come up with the money.
Instead, with his back to her, he pointed at her living room window. “Gonna caulk that tomorrow. Take a look at the roof, too.”
“Did you hear what I said? I can’t pay you. This is nice, Mr. Watson. It’s overwhelmingly nice and I can’t get over it. But I don’t have the money. I don’t have the money for anything.” She really was going to cry. Even now she was fighting the tears that threatened to burst free. “Please, just tell me how much an alternator part costs and don’t fix anything else. I can’t afford to pay you and while I appreciate it more than you know, I can’t—”
“Pay. I know.” He closed his eyes, as if bracing himself for some odd reason, and then slowly spoke. “The part for your car won’t be in for a few days.”
“Oh.” Maybe she’d have time to get some money together between now and then. “I see—”
He turned toward the door and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and glanced at it. “My uncle is a vet,” he said after a moment. “We’ll take the dog to him tomorrow. See if he’s chipped.”
“Tomorrow?” she asked. “You want to do this again tomorrow?”
He nodded and then left, and she just stared at the door. Interacting with Caleb Watson was baffling. He acted as if he didn’t like her. Like he didn’t want to look at her. Like she was a pain in the ass he was simply tolerating. He sure wasn’t talking to her much.
And yet . . . he was doing all these kind things for her. And he’d return tomorrow to do the same things.
She moved into her bedroom, where Donner was still curled up in his bed. He lifted his head as she sank down next to him and offered her hand for him to sniff. When he licked her hand, she petted his soft head. He was clean and dry, and to her surprise, he wasn’t gray all over but a mix of black and white and gray. He looked handsome and smelled so much better. It was just another thing Caleb had taken care of for her.
“He must feel really sorry for me,” Amy whispered to Donner.