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)
“I love it.” Willow graced me with the smallest of smiles. “I know how to make it too.”
“You want to help?” I pulled out the eggs, bread, and milk.
“I guess.” Willow stood up from her chair with a grimace. She was hurting more than she was letting on, but I knew her stoic father well. No way would she take well to me telling her to sit. “There’s sausage in the freezer.”
“Good call.” I retrieved the package of patty sausage from the freezer as Willow limped to fetch a large skillet. “You sure you’re doing okay?”
“Just a little banged up.” She waved a hand, exactly as I’d expected. “I’ll be fine.”
“You remind me of your dad.” I laughed, then sobered. “And your mom. She was tough.”
“You knew her?” Willow narrowed her gaze.
“Yeah, I went to school with her and your dad both.” I found a bowl to mix the eggs, milk, vanilla, and cinnamon. “I remember her riding in the rodeo one year with her wrist in a cast.”
Willow darted into the living room to retrieve a framed photo of Betsey holding a tiny girl on a horse. She held it out so I could admire it.
“She used to ride with me in front of her. That’s her horse, Buttercup. My other grandma and grandpa took Buttercup to Arizona after Mom died. Dad had to beg them to leave Pepperjack for me. Mom picked him out just for me, trained him up. It’s not his fault I fell.”
“He’s a good horse,” I agreed. This was possibly the most I’d heard Willow talk at once, and I hoped like heck I wasn’t screwing it up. “Even good horses—and good people—make mistakes.”
“I guess.” She pursed her lips, stubborn set of her jaw so much like Colt’s. Like her father, she seemed to take on the weight of the world, more worried about her horse than any of her own injuries or feelings. “That’s why I need to see him. He was startled, but I didn’t react well. He needs to know I forgive him. “
“And you need to forgive yourself too.” I gave her a pointed look as I lined up French toast pieces in the hot skillet.
“That’s harder.” She clomped to a nearby cabinet to remove three plates. “It was a stupid mistake.”
“Which is why you need to let it go.” I knew a thing or two about being too hard on myself. I could stand to take my own advice—put the failure of my reality show behind me. And if I truly wanted to make a go of being a rancher, I needed to work more on healing from the past. I couldn’t change what had happened, but I could move forward. I flipped the French toast before nodding at Willow. “You’re a good rider. You’ll get it next time.”
“If Dad lets me keep riding.” Sighing, she sat back in the chair she’d vacated earlier. A crafty look crept across her face. “You could tell him—”
“Nuh-uh.” I waved the spatula in her direction. “That’s between you and your dad.”
“What is?” Colt chose that moment to wander in, pulling down his T-shirt as he entered the kitchen. “Something smells good.”
“We made French toast.” Willow greeted him with a big smile. “I wanna go to the ranch after we eat. That’s what Maverick and I were talking about. I want to ride today.”
“That eager to ride again?” Colt shook his head before taking a seat across from Willow. “You are your mother’s daughter.”
“That’s what Maverick said.” Willow preened, then frowned. “Please don’t make me stop riding. Grandma said last night that if you were smart, you’d sell Pepperjack and make me find a safer hobby.”
“Grandma and I are going to have a talk.” Groaning, Colt leaned back in his chair. “I’m not going to sell your horse, Willow. Whether or not you keep riding is up to you.” His voice turned gruff. “Always has been.”
“Thank you.” Willow bounced out of her chair to hug him.
Later, after we’d eaten breakfast and Willow went to get her boots on, I finally had a moment alone with Colt as we loaded the dishwasher.
“You did good, telling her she could keep riding.” I patted his shoulder. “I know that wasn’t easy.”
“It wasn’t.” Turning, he gave me a long stare. “Setting things free never is.”
“I don’t want to be set free.” If he meant the past, that was part of what I was working on letting go, but if he meant right now, I had no desire to flee Lovelorn, a strange and new sensation. “I meant what I said last night. I’m staying.”
“I don’t want to fight.” Colt took on the same stubborn expression Willow was so good at.
“We’re not fighting,” I said right as Willow bounded back into the kitchen.
“I’m ready!”
She was still moving a bit slower than normal, but all things considered, we were all remarkably lucky her fall hadn’t been worse. The three of us headed to the ranch. Hannah was waiting for us on the front porch, only too eager to reunite with Willow.