“I feel better.” She grabbed a tissue out of the box and sneezed. “I hate getting a cold at the end of summer. People should only get colds during the winter-when it’s cold. This is so not fair.”
He frowned. “You don’t look like you feel better. Maybe you should take another day or two off.”
She handed him the morning mail. “All I do at home is sleep.”
“Did you ever think your body might be trying to tell you something?”
“I’m fine, really.”
He still didn’t like the way she sounded or looked. “If you’re still fine by lunch I want you to go home.”
“Funny,” she muttered.
He glanced at the stack of letters. Shelley would’ve already gone through the mail and discarded the junk. Brian didn’t know how he’d ever managed without her.
“I’m glad you came in today, though,” he told her.
She gave a very unladylike snort. “That’s because your brother was screwing everything up.”
He paused, hand on the door, then nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Great football player but lousy secretary.”
“You should see the sticky notes he left all over my desk. It’s a good thing I came in early to sort through them. I’m still not finished.”
“Then I’m doubly glad you’re back.” He smiled. “But I still want you out of here by lunch. And remind me to give you a bonus.”
“You already give me a very nice one at Christmas, thank you very much.” She sneezed again.
“Then remind me to make it bigger this year.”
Her chuckle turned into a cough.
Brian started to go inside his office but paused at the last second when he remembered something else. “Do you know what time the woman I’m interviewing for the massage therapist position is supposed to be here?”
Shelley held up a small pile of sticky notes. “Your guess is as good as mine. Cal said today. That’s all I know.” She grimaced and shook her head.
“Well, send her in when she gets here.”
“Will do, boss.”
He went inside his office and closed the door, tossed the mail on his desk, and went to the window. He had a nice view of the front of the ranch and the tree-lined driveway. His office had originally been part of the living room. His grandfather’s chair had been exactly where Brian’s chair now sat.
Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he could see him, feet propped on the footstool, pipe on the small round table.
“Now let me tell you the story about when I was a young fella. Times weren’t near as easy as they are now,” he’d say. Then he’d laugh and tell him and Cal a story. They would be enthralled with his descriptions of the way things used to be.
Man, he missed him a lot.
Or maybe it was just the family atmosphere he missed. Hearing his grandmother humming softly in the kitchen as she baked. Grandma had loved to cook and no one had ever been able to duplicate her rolls. He missed her homemade breads. He missed a lot of things.
It was good that Cal was home, even if he’d be leaving soon. And Brian knew he would. Cal liked the country but he wasn’t passionate about it. His enthusiasm lay in sports. Brian guessed everyone needed something that he or she cared deeply about.
The sound of a car pulling up in the circular gravel driveway drew his attention and he glanced out the window again. His eyes widened. At least he thought it was a car. The only thing holding it together was rust. At one time it might have been green, but it was hard to tell.
The person inside cut the engine. The car rattled and shook before backfiring, exploding a cloud of thick black smoke out of the tailpipe.
Whoever it was had to be lost. And down on his or her luck. He only hoped the person’s car had enough get-up-and-go to make it off the property. The car looked totally out of place, surrounded by the manicured lawns and the three-tiered fountain that spilled water over each rim.
Then she emerged. A vision in flowing robes, her hair tied back in a vibrant purple scarf. She stood beside the car, took a deep breath, and raised her arms toward the sun as if paying homage.
Or maybe she was just thankful she’d made it without her car exploding.
Brian didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until she turned toward his window. There was no way she could see past the dark screen, but for just a second it felt as though she could.
She was beautiful, ethereal, and she didn’t just walk to the front door and out of his line of vision. No, it was more like she glided on air.
Was she a guest? The people who stayed at the ranch were from various walks of life.
Could she afford to stay here? His prices were reasonable, but from the shape her car was in, he didn’t think she could pay the price. Hell, after just one look he was tempted to comp her room. The woman had literally taken his breath away.
A moment later, his phone buzzed. He moved to his chair and sat down, pushing the intercom button. “Yes, Shelley.”
“Your massage therapist is here.”
He looked out the window, then toward his door. Damn, that was the last thing he’d expected.
“Send her in.” He had a feeling his vision of loveliness was about to become a problem. He didn’t need another problem.
A few seconds passed before Shelley opened the door and ushered the woman inside his office. She breezed past Shelley and took the seat he motioned toward.
“You have a wonderful office.” She smiled and her whole face lit up.
He guessed her to be in her early twenties, maybe twenty-two. Not much experience for a massage therapist. He wanted someone like Amy, his last one, who’d abruptly moved away. She’d given only a few days’ notice, which had left him in a bind.
Okay, so maybe he didn’t want someone exactly like Amy.
But in everything else, Amy had been reliable. She’d been in her late thirties and had worked as a therapist for over ten years. This girl couldn’t have more than a year or so under her belt. One thing he prided himself on was offering only the best for his guests.
“Thank you,” he said. “I designed the room myself.”
He might as well be friendly before he sent her on her way. He’d make sure she had money and he could probably get Jake at the filling station to check out her car. He didn’t want to think about her stranded on the side of the road.
“No,” she said. “It’s more than that.”
He raised his eyebrows. Or she could’ve escaped from the nuthouse.
She laughed. A light, musical sound. It was almost as though she’d read his thoughts. That was impossible, of course, but she was cute.
“I can feel the love in this room.”
How the hell could she know what this room used to be? Goose bumps popped up on his arms. “It’s an office.” A real nutcase, that was all she was.
She shook her head. The silver hoops in her pierced ears swung hypnotically back and forth. “No, it’s much more than that.” She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “I can smell the remnants of pipe tobacco.”
Now she was starting to worry him. “I don’t smoke.”
“Someone did. I can feel the love emanating from the spirit this person left behind.” She opened her eyes. “People leave a part of their spirit behind. Did you know that? That’s why we occasionally catch a glimpse of someone who’s crossed over or hear their laughter or even smell a pipe they used to smoke. That’s part of who they were. I think this person loved very deeply and he must’ve been very kind to leave such a strong reminder behind. Do you know this person?”
He cleared his throat. “My grandfather used to smoke a pipe. I’m sure there’s a lingering odor. It’s hard to get the smell out.”
“I see.” She bowed her head slightly.
“What do you see?” This was one strange bird.