Take Care, Sara

to do for her, but now couldn’t. It was therapeutic. Maybe she should change her career from painter to housekeeper. She snorted. Sooner or later she would have to figure out what she was going to do about that. Sara had made enough money from her artwork in the past that she was stable for now, even though there was no new income coming in from that. They’d saved a lot too. And of course there was the monthly compensation she received from the accident. Those were in a messy stack in the junk drawer, none cashed.
    Lincoln was heavy on her mind, not that he was ever far from it. She was confused and upset by his behavior. She didn’t know how to read him. It was more than sorrow for his brother. He seemed tormented by something, something he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, tell her about. The strain on his face; it was more than just from the circumstances concerning his brother. Or maybe he just couldn’t take it anymore. She understood how that could happen. Maybe it was simply too much for him and she understood that as well.
    Lincoln is the key. Sara shook her head. Mason and his crazy ideas. She never knew what he was saying and he always acted like it was because of her that his words made absolutely no sense at all. Saying that about Lincoln just proved it. Lincoln wasn’t the key to anything except maybe Sara’s constant aggravation lately. She frowned. That wasn’t fair. Everything Lincoln did he did with her in mind. She knew that. But what was with him recently?
    Sara had never seen Lincoln’s moods alter so much like that. What was hurting him so much he had to lash out like he had? And later, the way he’d held her; as though he was holding her up as much as she was him. She didn’t know how to help him and she wanted to. Part of Sara thought maybe she couldn’t . Maybe she was what was tearing him up like that. She didn’t want to be; Sara didn’t want to be responsible for his pain, for anyone’s pain. Only you already are.
    The whirring sound of a motor, getting louder and closer, gave her pause and made her heart rate escalate. In her cracked mind, Sara knew it was him, finally returning. He’d been on a long snowmobiling trip and he was back. The sane part of her mind receded, letting her have her false reality for a time. Sara jumped to her feet, racing to the door.
    She flung it open, her pulse crazy, her heart thundering. Biting air snapped at her and her bare feet turned to ice on the cold step outside the door. The rider turned the engine off on the red and black Polaris snowmobile. He took off his gloves and set them on the snowmobile console. His hands reached up to grip the helmet and Sara couldn’t breathe. Whose face would she see?
    The black-garbed rider stood and strode toward her as he pulled the helmet from his face, holding it against his side as he reached the porch. It was Lincoln. Sorrow and relief punched her in the stomach and Sara sucked in a sharp breath, unable to look too closely at that response. His hair was matted against his head, but still managed to wave up in spots. His jaw was unshaven, giving him a rough appearance and making him even more handsome.
    Open your eyes, Sara, Mason had said. She inwardly shook her head, knowing she would never truly understand Mason Wells.
    “I thought you outgrew your snowmobile gear?” was the first thing she thought of saying.
    “I lied. Ready for a ride?” He grinned, his gray eyes flashing with silver.
    Sara looked down at her dirty, stained yellow shirt and ripped jeans, wondering why her heart rate hadn’t slowed down any. “No. I’m cleaning.”
    “O…M…G, Sara,” Lincoln said, rolling his eyes. “That house is clean enough to eat meals off the floor, even when you haven’t cleaned it for weeks. You clean over clean. Get your stuff on. We’re going.”
    She crossed her arms, getting tired of Lincoln’s bossiness and wanting to laugh at him at the same time. “Stop trying to run my life.”
    Lincoln laughed. “Really? Stop trying to run your life? If I were trying to run your life, it’d be all kinds of different. Trust me. It’s day two. Let’s go.”
    Heat warmed her cheeks. “You can’t do this.”
    “Do what?” he asked, moving forward so she had to backtrack into the house.
    “Make me do things. Make me…make me…” Her throat closed on the words and Sara blinked her wet eyes.
    Lincoln shut the door behind him. “Make you forget? Make you have fun? Make you live?” He leaned