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)
“Not that you’re counting,” I teased before he could get depressed about how unlikely his dad was to notice Maverick’s birthday in a way that Maverick would appreciate, even with his older sister’s prodding.
“Sixteen is that much closer to eighteen and out of here for good.” Yep, Maverick’s bad mood was never that far away, especially when the subject of his dad came up.
“I don’t wanna think about college right now.” I gave the fire a good poke. Every time Maverick mentioned escaping town, my back tensed something awful.
“School year’s barely started and grades have already got you down?” Maverick misread my reaction, but I wasn’t about to correct him. If I told him the thought of Lovelorn without Maverick made my stomach hurt, he’d simply laugh, as he did now. “I can help with your government project if you want.”
“I’ve got it,” I said curtly. Yes, he was the better student and far more creative than me at putting together presentations and projects, but I could take care of myself. “You wanna grab the sandwich stuff?”
“Sure.” Maverick bounded off the rock. “Wish we’d ended up in the same government section, but I think they’re onto us.”
Freshman year, Maverick and I had lucked into sharing most of the same classes, and we’d been partners on everything the teachers would allow. This year, however, things had changed. I didn’t like that, not one bit.
“We do make a good team,” I allowed as I fetched the skillet.
“Like how you helped me knock out my chores so I could camp?” Maverick dug half a loaf of white bread, wrapped cheese slices, and some lunchmeat out of one of the backpacks. I’d arrived early for our camping plans only to find Maverick neck-deep in stall-mucking duty. It wasn’t the first time I’d grabbed a rake and done my share so we could leave.
“Yep.” I nodded because Maverick would do the same for me, and he had plenty of times. I sat next to him on the rock to work on dinner. “And thanks again for saying you’d help me watch the kids on Sunday.”
My younger brothers and sisters could be a handful, and I was grateful for Maverick’s help on the nights my mom had to leave me in charge.
“Eh. I like your family. Better than mine, that’s for sure.” He gave a crooked grin as he watched me slap together sandwiches to grill. “And look here, more teamwork. I raided the fridge. You’re cooking. Perfect division of labor.”
“Says the guy lazing by the fire.” I pretended to be put out when, in truth, I loved cooking for Maverick. The kid could eat, and while he had a housekeeper at the ranch, he always seemed so grateful for anything my mom, aunt, or I served up.
“Who you calling lazy?” Maverick gave me a shove. Setting aside the sandwiches, I shoved back, the sort of play fighting we’d done a thousand times before. But this time, something different flickered in Maverick’s blue eyes. Not quite alarm. Surprise? Before I could sort out what, he stiffened and moved away. “Better not roughhouse too close to the fire.”
“Yeah.” I finished the sandwiches as an awkward silence dragged on. I rushed the grilling. Food never failed to reset Maverick, and I counted on that here.
“This is the life.” Maverick sounded like me earlier as he gestured widely with his half-eaten sandwich. The last of the sun dipped, a slow fade as the moon, full and bright, revealed itself. He gave a toothy grin, and all was perfect again.
“See? Maybe you don’t need to pine for college after all.”
“Thought you didn’t want to talk about the future.” Maverick wrinkled his nose.
“I don’t.” Heck. I shouldn’t have made that comment. We were never going to see eye to eye on life after high school, that hazy stretch of time that seemed both infinitely far away and much too close.
“I can appreciate your grilled cheese, yet still hate this ranch.” Maverick let out a huff as a chill swept through the campsite. Yep. Last perfect day. Winter wouldn’t be far off now.
“How can you hate something so pretty?” I loved coming out to the ranch, leaving my too-crowded house in town where something always needed fixing. The wide-open spaces here filled something in my chest, even as they seemed to trap Maverick.
“Maybe because my old man rides me from sunup to sundown about my responsibility?” Maverick pursed his lips.
“I’m sorry.” I stared down at my sandwich rather than meet his unhappy gaze.
“Hey. Don’t get down.” He bumped my shoulder. “We’ve got almost three years left. And who knows? Maybe you’ll wise up by then and leave too.”
“Maybe.”
I wouldn’t though. I loved this county. Loved my town. Loved this ranch that Maverick hated so much. Sure, Maverick’s dad was awful, but if I had this ranch, I’d find a way to stay, and that was as much the truth as Maverick’s longing to leave.