Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
T
God, I love him. He has food waiting for me every time I come home, no matter the time of day. It’s more magic that he weaves for me, and it makes me feel so well loved and cared for. He’s right, I don’t eat well when I’m out in the field. It seems that there’s never time for it. Coming back here to home-cooked meals is a luxury because I know he doesn’t have much time on his hands right now, but he’s making time to prepare meals for me.
And damn it, that just makes me fall more in love with him. I need to see him. To curl up in his arms and feel his heartbeat under my cheek.
I hope with everything in me that they find the cat today. According to his call late last night, they finally caught it on the cams, so they know where on the ranch it’s hiding out. Now they just have to trap it.
Fish and Wildlife is helping too. They’re going to try to relocate the animal without having to put it down.
I pull the still-hot food out of the oven and grab a fork, and then sigh in happiness when the creamy gravy hits my tongue.
My man can freaking cook.
“Damn good,” I mutter around the bite and carry the plate upstairs so I can take a shower before going to sleep for a while. Unless something catastrophic happens, I’m not back on call until tomorrow night. I sincerely hope that I don’t get called. I like my job, but it’s been a hellish few weeks, and particularly the past week or so.
I need a break.
After I finish stuffing my face with the delicious breakfast, I take a hot shower to wash away all the filth, and then I face-plant into the bed, my face buried in Tucker’s pillow, and I breathe him in.
“Miss you,” I murmur as I feel myself drift toward sleep.
I took a good three-hour nap and then made myself get up because I have my fingers crossed that I’ll be able to sleep here tonight. Plus, it’s a gorgeous late-spring day. The sun is out, it’s nice and warm, and I want to be outside getting dirty. So, I slip into some denim shorts and a black tank, along with one of Tucker’s old flannel shirts, toss my hair up in a messy bun, and after I eat one of the delicious sandwiches he made for me, I slip into my gardening shoes—something I never thought I’d have—grab my sunglasses and a hat, and head outside.
Sylvester’s sitting by the gate of the garden enclosure, as if he’s waiting for me.
“Hey, little man.” I bend over and scratch his ears, and the orange feline purrs. “I’ve missed you too. Are you keeping watch? Making sure no critters get to our veggies?”
I take a deep breath, enjoying the smell of it out here, like pine and clean air and earth. And then Sylvester and I get to work. There are already weeds that need pulling, and I check on the growth progress both in the beds and in the greenhouse.
“We’re doing good,” I inform Sylvester, who’s taking a bath under the workbench. “I even planted some catnip for you and Tom.”
It’s already heating up outside, so I slip out of the flannel and the hat, and when I’ve finished in the garden, I lay the shirt and hat on the porch on my way to the barn.
I want to look in on the horses that are out here, and I need to check on Tom and the kittens.
There’s a delicious light breeze that blows over me, and it feels good on the back of my neck, drying up the sweat from working in the garden.
I love it here. I don’t know how I’ll ever leave the ranch next year. This is more home to me than any other place has been in my whole life. I’d rather never step foot back on the property I grew up on. There are too many nightmares for me there. And since I moved out when I was eighteen, I’ve always had temporary places that I rented.
But this doesn’t feel temporary. This is somewhere that I could easily lay down roots and call home. The greenhouse and gardens and the animals are all so comforting. But it’s the man that I really want.
And God, I miss him.
I haven’t seen him in days, and I’m itching to get my hands on him.
Hopefully tonight.
I’m daydreaming about time at the firepit with my man when I walk into the stall where Tom and her kittens have made a home, and giggle when five little babies waddle their way over to me, meowing.
Tom’s in the bed, snoozing.
“Well, hello there, little bitties,” I coo as I squat down and pet the babies. This right here is every little girl’s dream, being covered in kittens.