Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
“I’ll go see how they’re doing and pick up those other two monsters on the way back,” I add, drawing a murmur of thanks from Tina.
Meaning I’ll bring our two sons back to our bed if they’re too spooked by the storm to make it all the way across the hall by themselves.
Jake, the eldest, even though he’s five now is more like the size of a ten-year-old. And he has no trouble helping out his younger brother, Max who’s only nine months younger but catching up to Jake in size already.
“You think I’m being stupid, don’t you?” Tina asks. Her mouth creased with the kind of worry it took me two babies to figure out is only natural for moms to have.
It’s real worry, but it’s only because they love their kids so much.
And in our case, I guess we do have two extra daughters, if we include the four-legged variety.
Lucy and Ruby would live in the house if Tina had her own way all the time.
So having their stables moved closer to the house was as good a compromise as we could reach.
But the tradeoff is it’s my job to go check on them whenever Tina worries about them. And on a night like this, it’s not a bad idea to go make sure that they’re warm and dry and that the roof’s still on while I’m at it.
“I’ll go see,” I assure my wife, kissing her cheek and then pressing my lips to the sleeping head of little Stacy.
Promising them both I’ll be right back.
The old place creaks and groans on a regular night. But in the middle of a storm, it sounds and even looks like something out of a B-grade horror movie in the darkness.
I know my way around with my eyes shut. And checking the boy’s room with a glance around the door, seeing the muted beam of a flashlight under Jake’s quilt as I hear his brother hissing for him to be quiet.
The huddled figures of their bodies making a tent out of Jake’s bed.
Max whispering that he was sure he heard something…or someone.
I know they’ve been up for a while, being the best kind of brothers and helping each other out when they get a little scared.
And scaring each other more by the looks. Telling ghost stories or whatever it is they talk about.
There’s a break in the howling wind and it dies down long enough for me to ask if the boys want to come help their old man.
The sudden sound of my deep voice in the dark making them both shriek with fear that’s so over the top I can’t tell if they’re actually scared or just making out like they are for the sheer suspense of it all.
Who needs scary movies when you live in an ancient house in the middle of a storm?
I smile proudly to myself, shaking my head. Remembering a snapshot of my own life when I was their age.
The dormitory life of the boy’s home that was all I knew before I came here.
The place that’s my home and will be all theirs one day.
“I’m going to check on the mares,” I tell them both. “You guys want to come help out?” I ask.
The pair of them gasping with excitement, racing out from under the covers and sliding into their slippers.
Always ready, day or night to join me in doing ‘ranch stuff’ as they call it.
A phrase I’m sure they learned from their mom.
We make our way downstairs, and I cut through the kitchen, tossing them an apple each from the wooden bowl on the counter.
The sudden flapping crash of an iron sheet come loose somewhere outside making them both jump.
The whole kitchen lit up for a second as fingers of forked lightning flash outside.
My sons’ eyes wide and alert. Both of them putting on such a brave face for their dad.
“C’mon,” I drawl, making this more of an adventure than a chore. “Sounds like we’ve got work to do out there…are you boys up for it?”
They both nod eagerly, and I watch them both gulp down any apprehension. I jerk my chin toward the door, picking up a tool bag once I slip into a waterproof slicker.
Not even opening the back door until each of them has his own on too.
The mares are shifting uneasily, Ruby rearing up and lifting her front legs when she sees us.
That sheet of iron that’s come loose is right over their stable.
“I need you boys to calm those horses while I go fix the roof,” I tell them, keeping my voice low and firm for effect.
Both of them stand taller and nod at once. And both the mares are happily distracted by the apples the boys have brought them to munch on.
Both Jake and Max calm the mares quickly. Showing me just how much of their mom’s gift for animals they’ve inherited before I climb up onto the roof.