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)
“Willow’s right, Hannah.” Colt’s voice was as calm and soothing as I’d ever heard it, totally at odds with the efficient way he produced a pistol, cocked it. I hadn’t been aware he was carrying, but now I was beyond grateful to be out here with the sheriff. “Stay as still as you can.”
“I’m scared.” Tears rolled down Hannah’s face.
“No one move.” Colt’s voice turned hard right as the snake reared up. Bam. A single shot and the snake was a pile of goo.
“You killed it.” Hannah waved both hands in front of her face. “I’m gonna puke.”
She headed toward the nearest bush, where she proceeded to lose her lunch. I rubbed her back before offering my water bottle.
“Sorry.” She gazed up at me through watery eyes.
“It’s okay.” I patted her shoulder. “I kind of want to throw up too. You were very brave.”
“I don’t feel brave.” She gestured at her tear-streaked face and the nearby puddle.
“That’s how you know you were brave.” I led her away from the bush. “You were scared, but you listened to Colt anyway. That takes courage.”
“Thanks, Uncle Maverick.” She gave me a quick, tight hug that stole what little breath I had left after the rattlesnake encounter. It wasn’t the first time I’d met up with one, but I’d never had the urge to dash in front of someone else, take the danger for Hannah. Anything to keep her safe.
Humbled, I let Colt and the girls lead the way back to camp, where Colt demonstrated the art of fire building to a cluster of tweens. His familiar reminders helped my pulse rate return to somewhat normal. Later, as the cooking team took over the fire with Dutch ovens full of chili, Colt joined me on a nearby low rock.
“Doing okay?”
“Yeah. That was way too close a call,” I admitted. I’d never been so terrified in my life. “I don’t know how parents manage to have any hair or nerves left.”
“Exactly how you did it.” Colt gave an approving nod. “See to the kid first, freak out later. You’re a good uncle.”
“Thanks.” Looking down at my dusty boots, I kicked at some loose rocks. “I haven’t always been. I was busy in LA, didn’t visit enough.” Colt was the only one on Earth I could admit this to. “I didn’t know how bad things had become for Faith after this latest divorce.”
“You’re here now. That matters.” Colt flexed his hand like he wanted to touch me but thought better of the gesture. We were alone on the rock, but plenty of people were milling around the campsite, cooking, setting up tents, and talking. Someone had even brought along a guitar, and the mournful tune wove through the evening air. “If Faith is anything like Kane, she’d laugh if you suggested meetings or rehab, but it sounds like that’s what she needs.”
“Yeah.” I dragged the toe of my boot along the reddish dirt, scratching a straight line. “She won’t, but yeah. Gah. Faith with a sudden cash windfall scares me. At least right now, I’m able to help shield Hannah some.”
As much as I wanted to be back in LA, preferably with my career intact, I was enjoying the chance to be an uncle, and the more I witnessed Faith’s parenting, the more resolved I became to stay involved.
“The easiest way to ensure no cash in the bank is to become a rancher.” Colt offered a crooked grin and sympathetic eyes.
“I’m sure.” I gave a bitter chuckle. I wanted Hannah safe and happy above all else, but I wasn’t any more convinced I was rancher material. “I still need to sit and go through the latest numbers with Grayson and the trust folks, see what sort of margin we’re operating with. I’m a hospitality project manager, not a rancher, Colt.”
“I know.” Colt’s smile faded.
“Chow time!” Someone rang an old-fashioned dinner bell, all the kids came running, and that was the end of that conversation. The sourness in my stomach lingered though. I hated being the reason Colt’s smile dimmed.
Colt wandered away to eat near some dads he knew from town while I ate with Willow and Hannah, who quickly abandoned me in favor of checking on the horses. Hannah seemed to have rebounded well from the snake scare, and I was content to sit alone, listening to the guitar and enjoying the light breeze until Colt plopped down next to me and handed me a long metal skewer with four marshmallows on it.
“What’s this?”
“Kids are making s’mores before the ghost stories.” Colt gestured at the nearby fire circle where Hannah and Willow had joined the other tweens and teens in roasting marshmallows.
“Most of the ghost stories around here involve my ancestors.” I kept my voice dry as the Colorado dirt under our feet.
“All the more reason to get you some sugar.” Colt gave a mischievous grin. “You always did have a sweet tooth.”