Acting Ladylike | On Hold

✩ S I X T E E N ✩

  About an hour later, my legs are starting to cramp badly and my head is tilting at an awkward angle, giving me a neck ache, but I'm too exhausted to try to fix my position to ease the pain.

  It feels like I haven't slept for days even though I just woke up a couple of hours ago. My eyes are droopy, only open enough to see the mundane scenery whizzing by as we pass.

  I'm about to fully close my eyes and try to get some sleep when we pass by a huge wooden sign nestled into a clutter of broad trees nearly obscuring the words.

  "Welcome to Lily Creek." I read tiredly, propping my head up with my my hand resting against my elbow.

  "What did you say?" I'm surprised Mr. Ashworth heard considering how quiet I'd been. Perhaps I'm not as quiet as I thought I was.

  I clear my throat before sitting up straighter. "I was just reading the sign. How much longer do we have?" I ask curiously.

  "Probably a few more minutes. Just stay on the lookout for any houses out here."

  How does he expect me to look for houses when I can barely keep my eyes open?

  "Do we even know where we're going?"

  "If we don't, I guess that means we get to keep the horse."

  I shake my head in disapproval even though he can't see me.

  "What does the house look like?"

  "How would I know? All the woman said was that the house would be somewhere along here."

  "Is that it?" I point towards a roof-like object in the distance among all the trees.

  "Possibly."

  As we get closer I realize that the house is actually two separate buildings, a smaller, wooden one behind the other with a fence surrounding it.

  "Well it's certainly in the outskirts." I murmur to myself recalling the sign we just passed.

  Mr. Ashworth somehow coaxes Dusty to stop right in front of the dirt path leading up to the house before sliding from the horse's back and turning to look at me. I scowl when I notice the expression that flits across his face at my pain is an amused one.

  He grabs Dusty's reigns and intricately ties them around one of the support beams of the fence before brushing his hands together to rid them of invisible dirt. He then chucks his hands in his pockets and regards me with solemn eyes, the amused expression gone without a trace.

  I wince as I attempt to stretch my legs to throw them over the side of the cart so that I can get out, my hands clasping the sides of the cart as I try vainly to lift myself with my upper body strength.

  He snorts as my arms wobble like gelatin before turning around to start to walk down the dirt path.

  What a jackass.

  My arms nearly give out and I almost go toppling back into the cart, but somehow I'm able to keep myself boosted up.

  The main thing motivating me is seeing the look on Mr. Ashworth's face once he realizes I was able to get out the cart by myself just fine. I don't need an arrogant chauvinist's help. I'm an independent woman.

  My back slams into the side of the cart as I slide out after my struggle. I groan before getting to my feet, wobbling at the sudden weight on my legs.

  Mr. Ashworth turns around when he hears all the noise I'm making.

  "Woah, Miss Davenport. No need to rush," he chortles which does nothing to help with my I-want-to-slap-you-in-the-face mood.