Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
“Be gentle. Bleu isn’t going to hurt you as long as you don’t startle him,” Cash says, as he guides Zack along on the smaller pony. Zack looks equal parts terrified and excited, and the pony he’s on seems to be agreeable to such a small rider.
“How do I make him go fast?” Zack asks.
“You aren’t going to want to do that just yet.”
“But I see the people on TV do it all the time.”
“They’ve worked hard. Trained hard so they can ride fast. If you keep at it, kid, you’ll get to be as good a rider as they are.”
“And then I can be just like the samurai I see on TV?”
Cash raises an eyebrow. “Samurai? Uh, sure, kid. Just like a samurai.”
“Alright. I’ll be careful. And learn. And then I’ll be just like Samurai Sam.”
“Right. Why don’t you try to guide Bleu around the fence? Call out if you get scared, okay? I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.”
“Okay!” Zack shouts, and gently tugs the reins. Bleu must be trained well, as he takes all of this without even being fazed.
Zoe is already gently prancing around on her own pony. Not doing anything fancy, but her eyes opened wide in wonder when I told her she was going to get to ride horses today. Just being on one is enough to be a religious experience for her young mind.
I stay an observer, ready to step in and lend a hand to Cash as he plays teacher, but I never need to intervene. He seems to love the kids and the kids love him.
“He wants to be a samurai?” he says to me as he watches Zack go off.
“It’s a cartoon he watches. Some clever samurai who rides in and saves the day with his horse and his bow and arrows.”
“Don’t samurai use swords?”
“I think it’s one of those cartoons trying to be more historically accurate. Samurai did use swords like most people think, but they did most of their work in battle as mounted archers.”
Cash sighs. “And I grew up with cartoons that just wanted to sell me toys. Kung fu amphibians named after Renaissance artists, where those names were the only educational things about them.”
“Reptiles. Turtles are reptiles.”
He throws an arm over my shoulder and pulls me close. “Aren’t you the smart one?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You’ve taught me two things in the past minute by accident.”
I giggle. “I do love learning things. I watch a lot of documentaries and stuff about history. I just don’t know where to apply it.”
“I guess the most obvious way would be as a teacher?”
“Eh,” I shrug. “I thought about it. But the passion isn’t there. Not to go through all the schooling. I just like learning. I don’t mind sharing what I’ve learned, but teachers deal with a whole lot and I don’t know if I want to do that.”
“Fair enough, I suppose. Just trying to learn more about you, Cassie. What are your passions?”
“I don’t know. And I guess I’m young enough where I can still use my age as an excuse. And you, Cash? What makes you tick?”
“I’m pretty happy where I am. Mostly, anyway.”
“What do you mean by mostly?”
He grunts. “I like what I do. I like working with my brothers. Lots of fresh air. Hard work, but it feels rewarding. But let’s just say I need someone to come home to when all the work is done. I don’t mind watching TV, but that isn’t enough to motivate me to get me through the day, if you know what I mean.”
“Someone to come home to sounds nice. Or someone to make a home with.”
He rubs my shoulder. “Maybe we can work something out to deal with both our problems.”
The rest of the day is a great one for the kids. Cash and I chase them around, let them tour the ranch, and their excitement is more than enough to burn off all that excess energy.
When we’re all done, Cash gives the kids apples to offer to their ponies. They laugh and giggle as the ponies nibble on them and lick their hands and whinny happily.
It’s not long before the kids are all tuckered out and pass out on a picnic blanket. I’m in no rush to interrupt nap time, and help Cash lead the horses back to their stables.
Help, in this case, meaning I mostly follow him around and offer moral support. I’m not much more skilled than the kids when it comes to dealing with horses.
We lean on the barn as the sun sets, and take in the sight. The rolling hills of Burly offer quite the view, something that’d I’d never get back in Tacoma.
His hand over my shoulder, Cash can’t help himself. And I can’t help myself either, letting him guide me into a hug, looking into each other’s eyes, our faces close.