Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Don’t you need to go check on your wife and kid?” he asked King.
A rumble that sounded almost like a chuckle came from King. “Reckon I do,” he replied. “Thanks for the concern.”
The threatening gleam in Thatcher’s eyes made me shiver. King, however, didn’t seem at all fazed by it.
He turned to look at me. “You and Bloodline looked good out there today,” he said, then gave me a nod before walking back toward the stables.
I’d watched Christopher take Bloodline around the track a few times, and then Miller sent me in to take his place. It had been our best time yet, but Miller had barely made eye contact with me after.
I turned my attention back to Thatcher to find his gaze locked on me. I swallowed hard, thinking perhaps I should have gone with King. Thatcher was clearly angry about something, and I didn’t want his anger to be directed at me. I’d seen him lose his temper. If he was about to tell me JB had quit because I’d been making him uncomfortable with my attention, I was going to crawl in a hole and never come out again. Not even for the Breeders’ Cup.
“You think you can handle the Breeders’?” he asked me then, his expression easing some.
He looked less threatening now. Almost friendly. Maybe.
Relief flooded me. No talk of JB.
I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”
He studied me. Those dark eyes of his made it hard to take a deep breath. I had never felt more exposed in my life. It was as if he could read my innermost thoughts, and those were some no one needed to get ahold of.
“Tomorrow,” he said finally, “I’ll have you take him out.”
He was going to let me get on Zephyr tomorrow. King had said I needed to focus on Bloodline, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Thatcher was a Shephard, and it seemed like he made the decisions around here. I’d assumed it was Stellan, but the way King had spoken, it seemed as if it was Thatcher calling the shots.
“Okay,” I replied.
He didn’t say anything more before turning Zephyr and riding off. I watched him for a few more moments before forcing myself to stop.
I needed to go get groceries before I went home. I had three hours to get that done, get a shower, and head to the homeless shelter to help serve dinner.
• Five •
“I’ve heard rumors they’re, like, the Mafia or something.”
Capri
Nine Years Ago
Getting a job that was outside of the church had been a battle with my parents. Mostly my mother. She preferred I spend all my time doing volunteer work. I enjoyed helping serve meals at the homeless shelter and reading to the residents at the nursing home. I was going to continue doing those things. What I wasn’t going to do was head up the VBS team, teach Sunday School to wild toddlers or anyone else for that matter, clean the church, and serve food to the women’s group that my mother led on Tuesday nights.
It was time I made money so I could move out on my own. Not to mention, I’d really like to buy my own horse one day.
After I’d made a list of the reasons why I should work a job and learn to manage my own money and presented it to my parents, my father had ruled that I was correct. Much to my mother’s dismay.
The nursing home had said they had a position open for cleaning, and as much as I loved visiting the residents there, I did not want to clean the place. Two different church members offered me a job, working as a receptionist at their offices, but it was minimum wage, and I was trying to get away from all things connected to the church.
The ice cream shop in town that served not only ice cream, but also old-fashioned candy and treats had hired me on the spot. I’d almost made it through an entire week, and I was getting paid one dollar over minimum wage, plus tips.
Today was the first official day of summer for all the public and private schools in the district. Barbara, the owner, had warned that the crowds would increase so much that there wouldn’t be any downtime. I was okay with that. More customers meant more tips. The moment the doors opened at nine this morning, we had a line waiting to come inside. When Barbara told me to take my lunch break, it was well after one, and it had been nonstop customers. The tip jar was overflowing too. I didn’t take a full hour but finished my sandwich and grapes I’d brought from home in less than thirty minutes and got back out to help. Barbara looked relieved, and I could tell with just her and her niece, Mandy, who was also working today, that they were swamped. Mandy wasn’t very fast, and she was a little clumsy.