Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
I should make him miss breakfast altogether. It’s his own fault for pulling the shit he did on Willow last night and this morning, but I’ve been hungry before, and I’ll never intentionally withhold food from anyone.
We make our way to the bunkhouse, where Dusty’s serving up some scrambled eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast, and there’s plenty for Aiden to join in. In the two weeks since Gideon left, I’ve hired five other guys from town, and it seems they’re all getting along just fine.
I make the introductions and then point to Dusty.
“This is your other boss,” I inform Aiden. “You’ll do what he says, no questions asked. If I’m not around, he speaks for me. You won’t sass him.”
“Yes, sir,” Aiden says with a nod, munching on his bacon.
Once everyone has eaten, we go our separate ways to get our chores done. We just got a shipment of cattle in, so Dusty and the other guys will be working with them today.
I’ll have Aiden with me.
“Do I really have to mow all day?” he asks me.
“Yep.”
“I’ll get sunburned.”
“You can borrow a hat,” I reply and clap him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”
I lead him to the equipment shed and show him where the riding mower, the Weedwackers, and all the tools he’ll need are stored.
“Have you mowed a lawn before?”
He frowns over at me. “Of course I have. I mow our lawn at home, but it’s just a push mower because the yard isn’t that big.”
“Same philosophy, different equipment.”
I point out everything that I want him to mow—the entire area around the house, down either side of the driveway, and out in the east pasture by the tree line, where I plan to add some animals.
“That’s ten acres, easy,” he says with huge eyes, finally dropping some of the attitude.
“Roughly that,” I agree, impressed that the teenager can eyeball that off the top of his head. “Did Ray teach you that?”
His face falls, and he shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah.”
“I miss him too.” I ruffle the kid’s hair and pass him a hat before putting one on my own head. “While you mow, I’ll be clearing brush and cutting down some trees.”
Aiden nods and, to my surprise, jumps right on the mower and gets it started.
“You’ve done this before.”
With a half smile, he takes off to start his job, and I watch him drive off.
He definitely helped my dad do this before, and that’s good. I can see that he’s grieving for the only grandfather he had in his life. I don’t understand why he didn’t come to the funeral to be around family, to take a little solace in us. He could have spent way more time with us over the past month, and it might have helped him feel better.
He’s a complicated kid, but I’m determined to figure him out. I’m also determined that his days of hurting my Willow are over.
Three days later, we’re inside for lunch. Aiden is sweaty and dirty, and I actually get a smile out of him when I toss him a can of cola before I make us a couple of sandwiches. This has become our daily routine, coming inside to make lunch, and he already feels comfortable enough to help himself to a fresh bag of chips in the pantry.
“Do you eat roast beef?” I ask him as he peels open the bag of BBQ chips.
“I eat anything,” he replies with his mouth full, and I can’t help but smirk. He frowns down at his can, as if he wants to say something.
“You can talk,” I tell him. That’s another thing he’s started to do more of over the past few days. Talk. The first day, he barely said three words. By this morning, I couldn’t shut him up. He’s not telling me about what’s going on at school, or why he’s so pissed off at the world, but he is talking, so I won’t complain.
“I don’t want to ask weird questions or something.”
“There’s not much you can ask me that will surprise me.” I pass him a sandwich and get to work building one for me. “Shoot.”
“I want to know about hockey.”
I raise an eyebrow, watching as he consumes a quarter of the sandwich in one bite. I slide the second sandwich over to him. He’ll need it.
Building a third, I nod. “Okay. Ask away. I happen to know a lot about that sport.”
He rolls his eyes. “Duh. People at school always try to get me to ask you for tickets, or jerseys, or whatever. It’s stupid.”
“They know we’re family?”
He nods, stuffs more roast beef in his mouth. “Aunt Willow knows everyone, and they know that you guys grew up together, so that filters down to me. It’s not a big deal. But people are weird.”
“You can say that again.” I take a bite, watching him. “Does it bother you?”