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 only been on a horse all of twenty minutes,” I answered, raising my voice to be heard yet keeping a teasing tone. “Trail rides are long, hard, and honestly, a little boring.”
“Boring? Nah.” Hannah sounded like boredom on horseback was an impossibility when I had vivid memories of a sore ass and burning quads that said otherwise. I’d been forced into more than a few to appease my father. “And I’ve been riding long enough to know I wanna go.”
“If she keeps practicing, she might do okay on the ride.” Kat was absolutely no help as she walked along with the girls. “It’s the annual charity one the ranch sponsors every year, an easy ride and one night camp.”
“There are likely spots left, but all riders under eighteen need an adult present.” Colt managed to agree with Kat while also sounding way too smug for my taste. “Think Faith would mount up?”
“You know that answer.” My voice was tight. In the days since we’d been back at the ranch, I’d tried to keep myself busy, answer questions for Grayson, get up to speed on current operations, and entertain Hannah. Faith, on the other hand, had engaged in long phone conversations with friends back in Houston and taken up day drinking. Or maybe she’d never stopped, a thought I preferred not to dwell on. And with Faith dropping the ball on parenting, who was I to deny my niece the joy the horses were clearly bringing her? “Gah. Hannah really loves this, doesn’t she?”
“She does.” Colt nodded, tone turning more thoughtful. “Resilient kiddo, coming from Houston society life to being a cowgirl. Reminds me of Willow, the way she seems able to roll with change.”
“They do seem like they are friends already.” Across the arena, the girls laughed at something Kat said, and Hannah’s beaming face was all the encouragement I needed to make an effort with Colt. “You wanna stay for supper? I promised Hannah I’d show her how to make homemade pizza on the grill. I’ve got the dough slow-rising in the fridge.”
“You cook?” Colt’s eyes widened. Understandable since he’d known me during the years when my father chased me from the kitchen, and Colt’s aunts and mother did more than their fair share of feeding me. We’d camped together a lot in high school, but hotdogs and marshmallows had been the extent of my outdoor cooking skills. “This I want to see.”
With a busy mother who’d resumed her career as a nurse after his father died and a pack of younger siblings, Colt had more culinary skills than I did back then, producing bacon, eggs, and grilled cheese in a cast iron skillet over the fire. My mouth salivated, a sudden undeniable craving for toasted bread, cheap cheese, and Colt. Always Colt.
And why I was so eager to show off my new skills to him was a subject best left unexplored.
“When Dad refused to give me an allowance because I dared to go to school in California, not Colorado, I had a series of jobs at hotels, including in the kitchens. Learned a lot. Discovered I loved cooking for friends, entertaining.”
After years of too much quiet with only my father and me at the ranch, I’d been only too happy to form a vibrant friend circle in California, fill my life with joyful noises, trying to banish the roaring silence of the past.
“I didn’t know he cut you off entirely.” Frowning, Colt gave a weary exhale.
I hadn’t wanted him to know the extent of my arguments with my father, who’d been livid that not only had I applied to colleges in LA and San Francisco, but I’d dared to win a scholarship to a prestigious business program a world away from this ranch.
“Not the sort of thing Melvin Lovelorn would brag about.” I shrugged. I was years removed from the pain of going from a privileged life at the ranch to the freedom of counting every last penny in LA. “Think he thought I’d come around, but all it did was make me more determined to stay gone.”
“I see.” Colt’s tone turned wooden, gaze distant and unreadable. Damn it. He was the one who’d told me to go. How was I supposed to know he’d been hurt that I didn’t visit?
“Colt—”
“Watch this, Uncle Maverick,” Hannah interrupted with impeccable timing. I dutifully turned my head in time to catch Hannah executing a deft change of direction with Magnolia, grip on the reins as sure and steady as her voice as she commanded the horse.
“Better keep an eye on that one.” Colt’s measured tone covered layers of unsaid meaning. Better keep my attention where it belonged—on Hannah, not the past.
“I might do the trail ride.” I always had been impulsive where this man was concerned, but I managed to add, “For Hannah.”