Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
I don’t have long, but I stay in bed until the last second, thinking about my night with Tagger and his family. It was fun and comfortable like with my own family because I’ve known them practically as long.
Reaching over to the nightstand, I take a few sips of water from the glass. I was smart enough to grab it before falling into bed, but I was too dumb to actually drink it to avoid a hangover. You can lead a horse to water, but apparently, I won’t always drink it.
I get up and start getting ready—washing my face and hoping to bring some life back into my skin, brushing my hair and teeth, popping an ibuprofen, and getting dressed. I may not feel my best, but today doesn’t have to be a bad day. After all, not only did I catch Tagger staring at my mouth like he wanted to kiss me, but he called me babe.
It’s probably careless to get excited over something so trivial, but I’ll chalk it up to the lack of prospects. One hot guy comes along, and every part of my being has noticed.
After a few gulps of soda and some crackers in the kitchen to settle the headache threatening to rage, I head for the barn.
“Pris?”
I turn to the sound of my dad but don’t see him. “Dad?”
“Christine?”
Walking around the barn, I look in the direction I believe his voice is coming from, but I still don’t see him. Then he appears from behind a tractor at the edge of the cornfield. “Dad?” I go to him so he doesn’t have to travel as far. I can tell his back is bothering him again by how he’s redistributed his weight to the right to compensate. “What’s going on?” I take him by the arm, hoping I can help the pain that’s tensing his face.
He pats my hand and works up a grin. “Morning.”
“Morning. Everything okay?”
Shaking his head, he replies, “Davey didn’t make it in this morning. His wife went into labor just after four o’clock.”
My chest squeezes in joy for them. We don’t get many babies around here, and Davey and his wife have wanted this one for years. “That’s wonderful news.” But then the pieces fall together. “Oh no, were you trying to herd the cattle?” My heart drops, knowing that’s not something he should be doing anymore.
“Someone has to, but as you can see, my herding days are over.”
“You don’t need to do that or anything else that requires a doctor to get fixed. I can cover for Davey if we can let the cows graze while I take care of a few of my other tasks this morning.”
We finally reach the front porch, and I help him sit down. He winces but starts breathing normally again. “You’re a good daughter, Pris.”
“You’re a good dad. Just stay here and rest. Enjoy the slower pace while I take care of what needs to get done.” I touch his shoulder. “Can I get you anything? Water? Some orange juice for energy? Breakfast?”
“I ate earlier. Stop fussing over me and get on with your day.”
He struggles to let anyone help. My brothers and I worked harder beyond our years than most kids, so I know what it takes to run this place. “Text me if you need anything. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Knowing my day just got a lot longer doesn’t help stave the headache away. I think it made it worse. No use complaining. The animals depend on us, so I head for the barn again. After feeding the smaller animals on the farm, I saddle up my Palomino, Sunrise, and head to the back of the property to check on the cattle and see how far they’ve wandered from where Dad left them.
The sun is brutal today, and it’s only mid-April, making me think this summer is going to be as hot as Hades. Another thing I take mental note of to make sure we’re prepared.
Sunrise loves to run, so I let her loose on the way to the pastures. The stampede strap wasn’t tightened, so when she really gets going, my hat is blown right off my head. The strap anchors against the front of my neck, but the wind blowing through my hair and whisking through the cotton of my shirt feels too good to wrestle it back onto my head.
Pulling the reins, I slow her to a trot until I stop her at the top of a hill on the lower pasture. The cows are fine and grazing through the wilder patches of grass that have arrived with spring. I do a quick count, not worrying too much about finite numbers but more a general sense for now. A breeze reaches this part of the property more often than the others. It’s nice seeing the blades bend to the east under the cooling air.