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)
Even nicer that it reaches up here where I’m sitting on my horse.
I take a deep breath and slowly release. As soon as a calm overcomes me, I find my head filling right back to the tip-top with a to-do list. With a gentle squeeze of my legs, I encourage Sunrise to walk, letting her go where she wants, which is a patch of the good grass she likes to eat.
I reach around to grab my hat and put it back on, tightening the strap under my chin and then adjusting in the saddle. I pull my phone from the holster at my hip and text my neighbor a few properties over:
Hi Marjorie, it’s Christine from Rollingwood Ranch. One of our hands out here and his wife welcomed their first baby. I wanted to see if you could send a pretty arrangement over to them? They’re on the west side of Dover County.
Time moves slower out here in hill country. I may not hear from her for hours or even tomorrow, so I start to put my phone away when it buzzes.
Hi, good timing. I have some pretty daisies in orange, pink, and yellows. Out in the greenhouse, some heritage pink roses are blooming, and I usually have some carnations around. I can put something together in this new white milk glass vase I got in. I think this arrangement would be lovely to send them and perfect for the occasion.
Sounds great.
You know I love Rollingwood’s ribeye steaks.
She’s not subtle, but I prefer direct. I smile and reply:
How about four?
Neighbors around The Pass are always happy to exchange when they can. It’s something I appreciate.
More than generous. Is it from you and your dad or from Rollingwood?
The ranch. Thank you! And we can get those steaks out to you later.
You’re already short a hand. Since I’ll be out delivering the flowers, I can stop by and pick them up. It’s on the way anyway.
I’m covering his and my job today, so I appreciate it. They’ll be in the fridge box to the left of the porch. Thanks again.
Always glad to help.
With another text for my dad to get the steaks ready, I tuck the phone back in and secure it before turning Sunrise around. I pet her neck and pat her body. She’s always been good with commands and starts back to the farm. There’s an irrigation system that needs to be put on the track. And then twenty thousand other things to do before I’ll be able to end this day. At least my headache went away.
When I reach the peak of the edge of the farm where cornfields are lined with green stalks in the early stages of growth, I see a figure in the distance on horseback. It’s definitely not my dad by the build, and the silhouette is unfamiliar to our staff and hands, whom I’ve worked with and known for years. I could pick them out in a lineup with my eyes closed. Broad shoulders. Wide-brimmed hat. Cut in at the midsection, where I can only imagine a devilish V of muscle leads to bigger and better things. I laugh, letting it drift behind me. A girl’s got to entertain herself somehow.
We don’t get a lot of visitors this time of year, so I ride into action. “C’mon, Sunrise. Go, girl.” Riding fast enough to create our own breeze, I relish the cool air under the afternoon's hot sun. Not fifty yards ahead, the man stops, giving me a chance to realize that whoever it is, they’re riding Nightfall, one of our biggest and stubbornest horses. Nightfall won’t let anyone ride him, making me more curious about who it is.
I ride Sunrise full speed to see what this is about. Until I’m not thirty yards away, and it becomes clear. I gasp and hold my breath unwillingly in shock.
Oh.
My.
“Tagger?”
The hat.
The boots.
The jeans that look so good wrapped around his muscular legs.
The shirt that I remember him wearing in high school that the man he’s become has outgrown.
Hot damn.
He looks better than I remembered he could, and I remember him fondly. Very fondly. But sitting on top of Nightfall like it’s a horse he’s known for years by the comfort level the two share, I might fall in love altogether. He pushes the brim of his hat up just enough to keep the sun out of his eyes, but those greens still blaze brightly underneath. “Hey there, Pris.”
Riding up beside him, I can’t hide the smile that insists on beaming just for him, even if he did call me that name. I pull the reins and squeeze my knees to come to a stop. “What brings you out to these parts, cowboy?”
“A little filly I wanted to spend more time with.”
I smirk. “Bluebelly is up near the house.”