Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
My stomach dropped. My family were my everything. And I knew I was theirs too. But I just couldn’t step away from finding out who was after us. I just . . . couldn’t . . .
I was doing all of this for them, for all of us here at Golden Oaks, so no one got hurt again. I was the eldest of us Knightons, the head of the family. It was my job to be sure everyone was protected. As much as I wish it didn’t, my jumping career paled in comparison to that.
My cousin didn’t speak for a spell, but then said, “Let Atticus ride Lord Henry, at least.” I quickly refocused on Forrest. He was all seriousness now. He held up his hands in reaction to my angered gaze. “I know he’s your baby. But he’s too good to just sit in the stable or graze in the fields. Ben is doing his best keeping him fit, but that horse is a titan amongst horses, and he deserves to achieve the accolades he was bred for. Don’t take him down with you, Cousin. He loves the show ring, and you’re depriving him of what he was born to do.”
Silence stretched awkwardly between us. Atticus wasn’t touching Henry. My youngest cousin was an incredible show jumper, but he was not touching my stallion. As if he’d read my mind, Forrest’s shoulders sagged. He waited a few tense seconds before he finished off his whisky and stood. He was only an inch shorter than my six-three height. Otherwise, we looked more like paternal twins than cousins. We both had dark-brown hair, short at the sides and longer on top, and scruff on our cheeks and chins. Though admittedly, Forrest looked a damn sight better than me these days. Only our eye color differed.
“Let’s go,” he said. I raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “It’s time you came to family dinner again. It’s been too long you’ve holed yourself up in here, and we’re all done with it. You’re coming to family dinner to see your cousins and sister, and you don’t have a choice.” He smirked, trying to break the heavy mood. “And open a damn window. This place stinks of cigars and brooding man.”
I laughed, and the action felt strange in my chest. It was true; I hadn’t attended family dinner for some time. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I did. Even with all our touring schedules, whoever was in town would make time for family dinner. It was something our parents had instilled in us growing up. Yet even though I was mostly in town these days, I hadn’t attended a single one in God knew how long.
I got to my feet and walked around my desk. Forrest’s hand landed on my shoulder. He waited for me to meet his eyes. When I did, he said, “Stop taking all this on by yourself, Jas. We’re Knightons. We go through the good and the bad together. Let us help carry the burden.”
I smirked at my cousin. “Firstly, never say anything that cheesy to me again. We’re British and that shit doesn’t land.” Humor flashed in Forrest’s wide grin. “And secondly, I’m the eldest here. Stop trying to come for my title and know your place.”
Forrest shook his head, understanding my dry humor. “I don’t want it, Jas. Believe me. And I’m only one year below your thirty-two, so let’s not pretend you have the wisdom here. I’m the brightest of us all, if you’ll recall. I was accepted into Mensa at age six, unlike your underachieving self.”
I headed for the door to the office and opened it, ushering my “bright” cousin through. I immediately caught a glimpse of myself in the large hallway mirror that hung opposite my office. “Shit,” I said, as I ran my hands over my too-long scruff.
I looked terrible.
“That’s what I’m saying!” Forrest said emphatically, and I fell into step beside him. “You’re more grizzly mountain man than English country gentleman these days.”
I rolled my eyes, feeling a flicker of calmness settle in my chest. Forrest was good for me like that. Pulling me out of the darkness. All my family had that effect on me. I’d just stopped letting them in quite some time ago and allowed the darkness to pull me down.
“How’s training going?” I asked Forrest.
“Good.” He nodded his head, but he didn’t elaborate. I was sad to say that I hadn’t kept up with his practices. Forrest was an international five-star eventer—show jumping, dressage, and cross country. And he was consistently at the top of the league.
“You need to come and watch me when the season starts,” Forrest said. “Get out of the house for a while. Lady Aurelia is phenomenal. You need to see her.” Lady Aurelia was Forrest’s pride and joy, a nine-year-old dark-bay Dutch Warmblood mare who had been bred from his father’s prized stallion.