Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“You’ve watched my show?” While I tried to be a decent uncle, sending unique gifts for birthdays and Christmases, I couldn’t say as I was a particularly attentive one given our geographical distance, and I’d been unaware that Hannah even knew what I did for a living.
“Only every episode.” She gave me an epic eye roll. Abandoning her bag, she danced around the dining room, pointing at various objects. “‘That must go! And that! So dated! Oh my, who would want to stay here?’” She did a fairly decent, if overly animated, imitation of me walking through a property for the first time. “If I have to spend a whole summer here, it would be fun to give the room a makeover.”
“Indeed.”
I didn’t mind taking on a project to make one of my favorite humans happy and distract myself too. If nothing else, this summer would give me the opportunity to be the sort of uncle I’d always intended to be. And I welcomed the design challenge. During my time in LA, I discovered the fun of taking something dated and turning it into a welcoming space for guests. Every remodel had seemed to carry me further and further from this place and my father’s intractable refusal to embrace change.
After several hours and a trip to the nearest store carrying bedding, we successfully stripped Faith’s old room of all its princess overtones, remnants from when my mother had originally decorated the space. A long-buried memory surfaced of her with a sewing machine, whipping up throw pillows and décor for our rooms. My chest pinched, removing taffeta and tulle accents Mom had likely fussed over. But if I’d learned anything in the decades since losing her and Mel, it was that time relentlessly marched forward, turning what was once beautiful into dust catchers.
Besides, Hannah had a distinct taste of her own, and imposing Faith’s style of twenty-five years prior would have been cruel. Instead, selecting galaxy-themed bedding and decor was fun, and the addition of all the purples and blues made the pale-pink walls seem more celestial. We’d discovered a huge package of glow-in-the-dark stars, which had instantly captured Hannah’s imagination. I’d impulsively promised to put some on the ceiling.
“I need to find a stepstool or small ladder.” I frowned up at the high ceiling. I wasn’t short, but I could use Colt’s few extra inches right then. And why in the heck did I have to keep thinking about him? I hadn’t seen him since our encounter at the diner, yet he kept popping up in my brain with alarming regularity. I waved a hand as if that could shake the unwanted thoughts from my head. “I’ll be back.”
I headed downstairs, but the utility closet near the kitchen yielded only an inadequate black plastic step. A long-handled duster hung near the door, though, and I tucked that under my arm before continuing my hunt. Other downstairs closets also lacked a stepstool, leaving me little choice but to head for the one place likely to have what I needed.
I’d never liked the assorted barns and shops on the ranch. The main ranch house was closest to the long driveway from the main road. Beyond it, the drive led to the first of several barns, sheds, and a greenhouse, which surrounded the main house in a rough U-shape. Beyond the buildings were the cattle pastures and the crops with the land turning ever more rugged as one headed north past the pond into the rockier terrain.
The barns were big and drafty and kind of spooky. The ranch was best known for championship-caliber quarter horses, a sideline that had kept the ranch afloat in years when cattle and crops had been losing propositions. Accordingly, the horse barn was akin to a luxury hotel, only the best for these bloodlines. The horse barn sat farther back than the other buildings, up a small hill, with an attached riding arena and horse pastures. For all he’d neglected his fatherly duties, my dad pampered all his horses, working, breeding, and retired.
The pristine state of the horse barn always put me on edge, so I started with the older barn between the house and the bunkhouse. Its cluttered interior seemed more likely to yield a ladder. Dirt bikes, tractors, and other equipment jockeyed for space along with various supplies in stalls that had once housed livestock before the new barns were built. The space smelled like dirt, motor oil, and musty feed, a familiar yet unwelcome scent. I poked around gingerly in the front few stalls.
“Looking for something?”
“Uh.” I made an undignified noise at the sound of Grayson’s voice. The duster I’d been holding fluttered to the dirty floor. I gulped. I wasn’t a guilty kid sneaking around, and there was no one left for him to report me to. “I need a small ladder for a project at the house. I’m trying to reach the ceiling in Hannah’s room.”