Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
She thought for a moment, then, holding her hand out for the paper, sat down at the table and wrote in her best careful handwriting on the notepad he handed her. Since he was acting like a full-blown Daddy, she wrote, I’m sorry I made Daddy’s life better by making him look like a sparkly ogre.
Grady read it and heaved a long-suffering sigh. But she didn’t miss the twinkle in his eyes.
“Try again,” he ordered, then seemed to reconsider. “Never mind, that’s hopeless. I’ll tell you what to write.”
Sage wrote again, cheeks pink with suppressed laughter as he dictated. “When deciding on my next course of action, I will not let my naughty impulse to pull pranks cause me to write a check my bottom can’t cash.”
“Check, can’t, cash.” Sage snickered. “Say that three times in a row. Wait, that’s”—she trailed off, counting the words one by one on her fingers—“twenty-eight words? How many times do I have to write that?”
Grady pointed to the paper. “Just write.”
But she saw the edge of his lip twitch up. He was enjoying this.
Sage wrote the line over and over. Every time Grady walked past, he shook his head, raining down more glitter onto the paper, but he couldn’t hide his amusement. Rose sat at the table with her and began reading one of her lesson books.
Sage’s hand began to cramp and burn. How long had she been writing? Not that it mattered. She’d write until Grady told her to stop.
Occasionally, she would stretch her hand or arms, giving her a chance to look over at Grady cooking supper. She flexed and straightened her writing hand. It would be her luck to have it freeze in a permanent claw.
Finally, he called out, “Supper’s ready. You can stop writing sentences now.”
Rose had stayed by her side the entire time, only getting up once to go to the bathroom, and promptly returning to keep her company. Sage’s heart warmed at the gesture. It was made even better when Rose started humming some of the songs Sage had sung to her each night when she tucked her in bed.
After supper, Sage carried Rose to her room, helped her into her jammies, and tucked her in. Once Rose was comfy, Sage sang “Blue Shadows” as a lullaby, soft and slow, until Rose drifted to sleep.
Later that evening, Sage waited for a good time to talk to Grady again about visiting the Wilder Elementary School to speak with the first-grade teacher. Rose was progressing quickly, and Sage had no doubt that by the end of the summer, she’d be reading on more than a first-grade level. She was excellent in math and knew all her addition and subtraction facts, too. But Sage wanted to make sure there was nothing else she needed to cover. Her main goal was to make sure she wasn’t held back and could progress to the second grade.
She found him on the front porch, swinging on the wide wooden porch swing. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Kiwi, Sage’s stuffie, was in his hands. He was looking at it thoughtfully. Had she left Kiwi on the swing earlier? Usually, she kept her in the bedroom.
Grady gave her a warm smile. His smile was infectious and gave her heart a lift. He didn’t smile nearly often enough.
He patted the swing beside him. “Come sit with me, Wildfire. I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“What a coincidence, so do I.” She made her way to do as she was told.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to go first.”
Her pulse quickened, not recognizing his mood. He wasn’t still upset with her, so that was good. Whatever was going on, it must be important. Hopefully, she wasn’t still in trouble for the glitter bomb because that would suck. She didn’t think she could write any more sentences tonight.
Sitting next to him on such a large swing had her Little pressing to take control. Swings were her favorite. Whenever she had any free time, she’d find her way to the front porch swing.
If Grady was out on the ranch, she swung as high as she could and tried to touch the ceiling with her foot. Was that the problem? Had she left footprints on the ceiling? That might take some explaining.
She held on to the edge of the seat and swung her feet back and forth, clapping her ankles together.
The swing creaked as he pushed them in a gentle arc, as she waited for him to spill whatever was on his mind. And waited. And waited. If he didn’t talk soon, the silence was going to make her crazy. Her fingers itched to snatch Kiwi from his hands.
He must have sensed it because he put Kiwi in her arms. “Sorry, babygirl. Here you go.” He reached over and gently tucked a curl behind her ear. “You know, that’s the first time Rose has spoken since her mom died.”