Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Then why are you thinking about leaving Bayfield?”
“Because by now, I’m sure he knows everything, and he’s not going to want to have anything to do with me.”
“Don’t you think that’s his decision to make?”
“His brother told him to keep his hands off me.” I let out a sigh. “And that’s the whole problem. Everyone—not just my parents—thinks they need to protect me. The head vet at the ranch had me grooming horses and feeding puppies yesterday. Puppies! I enjoyed it, but my God, I feel like I’m in a cage here, and I spent three years being held captive. That’s more than enough for a lifetime.”
“I understand, but I’m going to be honest with you.” Dr. Lake sets down her notepad.
Uh-oh. When Dr. Lake puts down her notepad, she drops a bomb. Always.
“I don’t think leaving Bayfield is a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because this is your home, first of all.”
“So what? This is also where I was taken, where my funeral was. Where I came back from the dead. No one knows how to deal with someone who does that. Everyone’s afraid of what one little thing might do to me. They’re all afraid I’m going to break. And I’m not going to break. I know that now.”
“So show them that.”
“Why is it all on me? Why shouldn’t they try harder?” I shake my head. “I want to leave. I need to leave.”
“Let me give you another reason to stay, then,” Dr. Lake says.
I sigh. “Fine. Lay it on me.”
“This man. Austin. If he’s awakened something in you, do you really want to walk away from that?”
No. I don’t want to walk away from that. But Austin undoubtedly knows my story by now, and he won’t want me anymore. He’ll be glad if I leave quietly, especially since I’ll be working on his ranch where he’ll be for the next year. Then he won’t have to make up some sorry excuse for why he doesn’t want to see me. Or duck around horse stalls to steer clear. He can’t leave, but I can.
“Besides,” Dr. Lake continues, “there’s one thing on your list you haven’t accomplished yet.”
She’s right.
I’ve done everything else she’s asked, including purchasing a vibrator—getting that past Mom was interesting—and giving myself an orgasm.
Except…
I haven’t gone back to Millie’s.
Millie’s Diner, where I was having lunch when… when I was taken.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll go.”
I remember the scent of greasy French fries. The feel of the sticky fake leather bench seat. And more.
“Oh?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’ll go to Millie’s soon. Sometime within the week if I can. I’m strong enough. And once that’s done, I’ll begin researching places to relocate because Austin Bridger’s going to want nothing to do with me now that he’s learned about the broken Carly Vance.”
“Carly…”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Lake.” I glance at my watch. “I have to go. I’m going to be late for work.”
Lexie gives me some better tasks today, thank God, but not before she gives me the pitying look and asks three times if I’m okay after last night. She had a front row seat to that disaster.
I assure her I’m fine, and then she shows me how to take the livestock’s vitals and record everything on an iPad. We take the ATVs out into the fields and walk up to the Herefords as they graze. It’s hot, and my hat may shield my face from the sun, but it’s sweaty work. That keeps me busy until lunchtime, and I know just where I want to spend the hour.
Right at the edge of the Bridger property is a small freshwater spring. Whether the Bridgers actually own it, I don’t know. I stumbled across it when I first returned to Bayfield after my year of intensive therapy.
Walking was my solace then, and though at first I was a bit fearful of being alone, I got over my qualms quickly, especially in a place like this. It gave me time to think, and I ended up strolling miles and miles each day…and that’s how I found my secret spring.
I doubt that it’s truly a secret, but I’ve never seen anyone else there. I stop in the vet’s office in the stable and wash up, and—
“Hi, Carly.”
I don’t have to turn around. I’d know that deep voice anywhere. My heart skips a beat and I’m instantly hot all over. I’m not sure if it’s from desire or embarrassment over the night before.
I turn off the faucet. “Austin.”
Why is his name so breathy?
I turn, ready to apologize. Or run. Or jump him. I’m not sure which. Instead of any of those, I let out a laugh.
He’s dressed in tattered jeans, a plain white T-shirt—although it’s not all that white any longer—and brown boots. Army boots maybe? They’re not cowboy boots and they’re filthy. His face is shiny with sweat and his gorgeous dark hair is plastered to his temples. He sports a purplish bruise on his sculpted jawline where Chance clocked him last night.