Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“You okay?” Dad yells to me as I pass by them. He and Mom are on the porch of the ranch house, watching the storm.
“All good.” I lift my hand in a wave. “Got the pregnant cattle in the barn and about to take care of the horses.”
Dad smiles, and his forehead softens. I feel relieved that I can give them that. The satisfaction of knowing I’ve got it covered and they can retire in peace whenever they’re ready.
I dismount Midnight and lead him inside his stall.
“How you coming along?” I ask Pixie, and wink at one of the grooms holding a pitchfork.
“All set,” she says. “Working on my last stall.”
“Good job, young lady.”
I clap the groom on the shoulder, and he smiles.
There’s fresh hay for my horse to munch on, but first I make sure to dry and brush him. It’s a routine Midnight appreciates. Any horse would after a long and tiring day of work.
I remove my wet hat and set it on a hook as the rest of the men enter one by one to take care of their horses. Midnight whinnies in appreciation as I brush his hindquarters, patting him as I go. I’ll return later with an apple or two as a special treat.
Across the way, I can hear Porter cooing to his gelding and smile at the sound. It reminds me of when we were younger and he’d spend extra time in the stables before leaving for the day with his mom. “See you tomorrow,” he’d say to the horses.
By the time the horses are taken care of, the men are spent. It’s no fun working in wet clothes, and everyone is sure to be famished.
“What’s on the menu?” I ask the men as I follow behind them to the stable door. The rain is still coming down, so we’ll wait out the storm to get our evening chores done.
“Whatever Big Jimmy makes,” Wade replies, and the other men chuckle.
“Sounds about right.” We finally hired a family cook named Lloyd, but the men have taken to Big Jimmy’s food, and he enjoys making it most days. “Could use a cold one too.”
“Amen to that,” Jeb replies as I pause at the door and watch them trek back to the bunkhouse.
Porter is the last out of his stall, which is probably coincidental rather than anything having to do with me. I hear him chattering away with Pixie. Or rather, Pixie talking his ear off, which she’s known to do when she gets going, just like her daddy—though for him it’s normally after a few beers.
I smile, watching them interacting in the middle of the barn.
“You should go grab some dinner,” I tell them.
“Yes, sir,” Pixie says and runs off to no doubt find her father.
The barn grows silent as we look at each other across the space, both of us damp and muddy. But he’s fucking gorgeous regardless. He blinks the raindrops from his lashes as he rubs the back of his hand across his mouth. I try not to focus on those pouty lips and how they used to taste.
Emotions are churning in his eyes, and I note the pain there when he says, “Your daughter seems great.”
“My…daughter?” I stiffen, confused by the sentiment. I glance over my shoulder, putting two and two together. “You mean Pixie?”
“Who else would I mean?” he lobs back.
I take a step toward him. “She’s not mine. I don’t have any children.”
“Oh, I… I…” he sputters. “I didn’t know… You and Aimee never had kids?”
I huff out a laugh because the idea is absurd. But I can see he’s bewildered by my reaction. Did Porter really think…
“No, never. Thank God, not that I wouldn’t want them.”
“So you…” He still looks confused. “You might still try for some?”
I hitch a shoulder. “No clue. Maybe someday and certainly not with Aimee. She and I have been divorced for eight years. In fact, she’s remarried and moved to a different part of the state.”
Chapter 6
Porter
Questions rain down on me just like the storm outside. I don’t want to ask him anything, don’t want to look like I care, but man, am I curious. I’ve always wondered too much about Sully, was too interested in Sully, and it seems like eleven years away hasn’t changed anything.
There’s one question I can’t hold back, though. “It’s not a secret, then?” It’s the best way I can figure to ask him if he’s out without saying the words. As far as I know we’re alone, but I don’t want to take any chances. As much anger as I have for Sully, I’d never out him. No matter what, a person has a right do that on their own time.
The way he looks down and turns away slightly tells me all I need to know.
“It’s still a secret,” he confirms a moment later.