005 - A Special House Guest

Izabella was discharged a week later from the hospital.

Mr. Bennett, the caretaker of the Prescott family's ranch, personally came to pick her up.

Spanning tens of thousands of acres, the ranch served as an annual summer retreat for the Prescott family. Beyond raising livestock, the ranch also housed Mr. Prescott's prized horses, which the young men of the family delighted in riding regularly.

Although the ranch house was built more than twenty years ago, it still stood strong above the ground thanks to the high-quality materials that the former head of the Prescott family personally sourced from overseas.

Mr. Bennett himself was a member of the inaugural house staff employed to maintain the ranch when it was first established.

He proudly informed Izabella that the ranch house weathered three typhoons and two storms in the past twenty years, not to mention countless heavy rainfalls that overwhelmed lesser dwellings in the area.

"Miss Bella, you are our Young Master Daniel's special guest. Please do not hesitate to speak to me if you need anything. I will do everything I can to help you."

Izabella, who had just been moved to a small but cozy bedroom in the ranch, could only thank Mr. Bennett again and again.

"No, don't thank me," Mr. Bennett said with a gasp. "If you must thank someone, do thank Young Master Daniel. He alone made it happen."

He and a bunch of underlings, who responded to his instructions with remarkable speed and accuracy.

Speaking of which, Izabella had yet to meet her rescuer again after the latter came to visit her in the hospital.

"Mr. Bennett, if Young Master Daniel is around, may I please ask for some time to talk to him?"

In response, Mr. Bennett merely heaved a long sigh.

"Miss Bella, the young masters spend their days and nights in the ranch as they will. Sometimes they stay here the whole day, sometimes they won't even come back home for days."

"I see."

"Well, if there's nothing else…"

"Wait, Mr. Bennett!" Izabella cried out. "I just want to know if… anyone has come searching for me…?"

She knew the answer right away when Mr. Bennett assumed a distraught expression. Clasping his hands together full of sympathy, he said, "I am sorry, Miss Bella. There has been none."

"... I see."

The disappointment in Izabella's eyes was almost too much to bear for the ranch caretaker.

"But we remain in contact with the police department," he said in a reassuring manner. "If anything comes up, I shall inform you in time."

His words provided her with little comfort, but little was still more than nothing.

"Thank you, Mr. Bennett."

True to Mr. Bennett's words, Izabella did not get to see Daniel the entire day.

Or the day after.

On the third day, she decided to stop procrastinating and do something useful for once.

The ranch supported a bustling workforce, each group dedicated to a specific aspect of its operation. 

Maids were in charge of maintaining the pristine condition of the expansive house, ensuring a comfortable and welcoming environment for the family and their guests. 

Skilled stable boys were focused on caring for the prized horses in the stables, grooming their coats, tending to their needs, and ensuring their well-being in general. 

Out in the vast fields, experienced farmers cultivated the land, nurturing crops from seed to harvest. 

Last but not least, a dedicated team of ranch workers oversaw the various livestock, monitoring their health and growth, providing them with adequate food and water, and maintaining the overall order and productivity of the animal pens. 

They all answered to Mr. Bennett, who diligently oversaw the entire ranch daily. He left early in the morning to conduct comprehensive inspections around the ranch area and only returned to the house in the afternoon.

Today, too, he planned to attend to his daily routine, only to be disrupted by some ruckus in the kitchen area.

Mr. Bennett poked his head into the kitchen and saw a maid engaging in a tug-o-war with Izabella over a piece of dirty rag.

"Miss, please! Mr. Bennett… no, Young Master Daniel is going to fire me if he sees you with this cloth!" the maid wailed.

"I am just helping out a little," Izabella insisted. "You cannot expect me to mooch off a good family for more than three days. Allow me to contribute what I can to the household!"

Izabella's words made Mr. Bennett's blood freeze in his veins.

"Miss Bella, please!" Now, he too joined the tug-o-war, taking the maid's side. "You are an important guest! How can I even let you get near this dirty rag!"

It was impossible to win against two people, not to mention that she still carried a crutch under her left arm.

"If I cannot clean, please give me some other tasks," Izabella demanded. "Otherwise, how can I face Young Master Daniel?"

Izabella was very persistent.

She refused to go back to her bedroom and lounge around like a rich young lady, so Mr. Bennett was forced to relent.

"In… in that case, would you mind peeling the potatoes for lunch…?" he weakly asked.

Izabella's eyes shone in delight, making her look less like a sickly person.

"Of course! Where are the potatoes?"

Mr. Bennett left the house with a pale face.

He hoped, no, prayed that neither Daniel nor Brandon deigned to make their appearances today.

Tomorrow, he might be able to devise some plan to keep Izabella engaged in some activities.

Izabella peeled one potato after another dutifully.

Alas, she was not used to kitchen work, thus the quality of her work left a lot to wish for.

"It's too thick," Mrs. Barnaby, the kitchen lady, complained as she lifted a strip of potato peel before Izabella's eyes.

"I am so sorry…"

Mrs. Barnaby scoffed and tossed the potato peel away.

Unlike other maids, she refused to walk on her toes around Izabella. Especially if the latter chose to intrude into her domain.

"Well, the swines are going to enjoy a feast today. Did you say that your name is Bella?"

"Yes, that's right," Izabella confirmed.

"You are already this big but you don't know how to properly peel potatoes. You must be a pampered young lady from a good house."

"Maybe that's the case," a kitchen helper chimed in. "I mean, look at your fingers. They are so pretty."

Izabella stared at her own hands. The palm was smooth, and the fingers soft to the touch. There was no evident sign of their performing any kind of manual labor. Even her nails were manicured, although she broke several fingernails during the accident.

Their conversation was interrupted when a maid rushed into the kitchen.

"Mrs. Barnaby, Miss Seara Huntington has just arrived!"

Mrs. Barnaby let out a groan.

"Oh, no, that pampered princess again. Has someone told her that Young Master Daniel isn't here?"

"We have, but she wouldn't listen. She insisted on waiting for him to return."

Mrs. Barnaby rolled her eyes.

"And it's so close to lunchtime, too. I guess we are obliged to feed her, then."

Izabella, who was determined to redeem herself after ruining the potatoes, quickly offered her service.

"Allow me to bring her some food!"

Mrs. Barnaby placed a tray with tea and cookies in Izabella's outstretched hands, but not before issuing her a stern warning.

"Miss Seara Huntington is Young Master Daniel's childhood friend. According to circulating rumors, they might soon become engaged to each other. You do not want to provoke her."

"I won't," Izabella promised. "I am just going to bring her the tray and leave."

Izabella slowly moved from the kitchen to the living room with the tray firmly clutched in both hands.

She was so scared of dropping the tray that she ended up taking a long time to reach Miss Seara Huntington.

The young lady was far from being pleased.

"What the hell is wrong with this ranch?" she loudly complained. "Has the Prescott family gone bankrupt? Are we employing disabled maids now?"

"I am not disabled," Izabella said, only to bite into her lower lip a split second later.

Didn't she say that she wasn't going to provoke the young lady?

Seara's glossy lips curled in amusement.

She tossed her long, silver-blond hair off her shoulder and flashed Izabella a sweet, predatory smile.

"If you aren't, why are you walking around with a crutch? Lose it."

Izabella held onto her crutch, concern marring her expression.

"I fractured my leg a while ago, so… I still need this crutch, sorry."

Seara rolled her eyes and scoffed.

She lightly pressed a finger against the porcelain cup before clicking her tongue in disdain.

"The tea is cold," she declared. "Go back and make me a new cup."

She picked up a cookie, then recoiled in disgust, flinging it back to the plate.

"And why do the cookies look stale? Did you just serve me day-old cookies?"

"I am sorry," Izabella said. "I will bring a new cup of tea and a plate of fresh cookies."

She extended her hands to take the tray from the table, but a cold, male voice from behind her made her freeze on the spot.

"Are you bullying my guest, Seara?"