Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“What does Casey have to do with Thanksgiving?” I frowned as I took a seat next to Casey, which put me right across from Adler. “Or the ranch, for that matter?”
“The bunkhouse doesn’t usually celebrate?” Adler’s eyes went wide.
“Never have before.” I shrugged. “Maverick’s father wasn’t big on holidays. Those hands who want to head home for the day do, and the rest of us pitch in till they are back. Same with Christmas.”
My own father had been equally holiday averse after my mother left, but I didn’t feel like airing my personal history at the table. Holidays were simply another date on the calendar as far as I was concerned.
“And what about for the people for whom this is their home?” Adler frowned. His admirable soft heart was liable to get him into all kinds of trouble. “Not everyone has a family close by to go back to.”
“I dunno. Hasn’t come up.” I took my portion of stew and hoped Adler would soon get busy with eating.
“This isn’t a sitcom,” Motley said around a bite of biscuit. He sat to my other side and smelled none too faintly of horse. “No one’s playing Secret Santa around here.”
“Maybe they should.” Adler was nothing if not stubborn.
“I kind of like the Secret Santa idea.” Reindeer’s voice was unusually soft. “We did that in school. Wasn’t bad.”
“I could get into that idea as well,” Kat added from farther down the table.
“Last year, I made a turkey breast in the crockpot. I’d be up for doing something more formal,” Casey volunteered.
“I could eat some stuffing.” Chips helped himself to another biscuit and butter.
“I’ll make pie,” Kat offered, then frowned. “If I’m invited.”
“You’re all invited.” Adler swept his palms wide. “That’s what Maverick and I were planning. A big Thanksgiving here on the ranch with him, Colt, the girls, and anyone else who wants to join in.”
“Gonna need a full-size turkey or three.” Casey gave a thoughtful nod, eyes narrowing like he was already dreaming up recipes. “I’m up for it.”
“Good.” Smiling, Adler pointed at me. “Don’t worry, boss. The chores will still get done.”
It wasn’t the chores I was worried about, but I wasn’t sure how to explain that I didn’t want anyone here getting used to Adler’s big gestures. Even if Maverick stuck around beyond this year, most ranches had a separation between the owner’s family and the bunkhouse. Sure, a shared holiday might be nice, but it wouldn’t last.
“I’ll handle the dogs tonight,” I said to Adler as we cleaned up after the meal.
“Still in a bad mood?” Adler shook his head mournfully, like he was taking my sullenness personally. “Are you mad I talked to Maverick without you?”
“Nah,” I lied. “It’ll be good for Casey and his back to do less heavy lifting. Nice of you to get him the cookbooks.”
“Happy to help.” Adler sounded frustrated. “What’s your favorite Thanksgiving food?”
“Don’t have one.” I scrubbed harder at the crock that had held the stew.
“Seriously? What about when you were younger?” Adler wandered right into the thicket of my past, which I tried hard to ignore.
“Holidays are a breeding ground for domestic arguments,” I said grimly.
“Trust me, I am well aware of that.” Adler flexed his hand like he was thinking of touching me. “Family tensions tend to boil over, and my mother wasn’t subtle about calling out those who weren’t doing their share.”
“Yep.” I nodded tightly, trying to suppress the surge of regret that he hadn’t given in to the urge to touch me.
“No good holiday memories?” Adler asked softly, eyes big and liquid with far more sympathy than I deserved. “I’m so sorry.”
“My mom tried some in the early years.” The admission tumbled out, likely due to a pesky desire to soothe Adler. “She had a decent hand with a casserole. Yams. Green beans. Nothing fancy.”
“Green bean casserole.” Adler brightened. “We did that one too. I’ll call one of my older sisters for the recipe.”
“Don’t go to any trouble on my account,” I grumbled even as an unwanted craving kept me from killing his offer completely.
“You’re worth the trouble.” Adler dropped his voice to a knowing whisper. I wasn’t. Guilt over how I’d been treating him swirled in my gut, making my dinner that much heavier.
Adler seemed bound and determined to wiggle his way into my life, exactly like those dogs of his. However, he’d eventually stop trying, which was a thought I liked even less. I couldn’t get used to his niceness before then. I knew more than most that it was far easier to live without something than to have it, lose it, and then have to figure out how to go on.
Chapter Eighteen
Adler
I’d orchestrated any number of elaborate hotel parties and events, arranged for exclusive restaurant and show reservations, and assisted in more than one over-the-top proposal, but pulling off Thanksgiving on the ranch might be my proudest accomplishment. The main house smelled like a memory—roast turkey mingling with sweet yeasty scents. Everywhere I looked, there was more food. The kitchen island was heaped with turkey and all the side dishes, while adjacent tables hosted desserts, breads, and salads.