Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I flop down onto a nearby hay bale, resisting the urge to scream into the open sky. Where does one even find a husband on such short notice? Do I put an ad in the paper? 'Wanted: Husband to save family ranch. Must like horses and early mornings. Sense of humor optional but preferred.'
I shake my head at the absurdity of it all. Maybe there's a dating app for desperate ranch owners in need of a quick marriage. Swipe right for salvation.
Just then, my phone buzzes with a text from my best friend, Millie.
"Brunch tomorrow? I have news!"
I type back quickly.
"Only if there's mimosas."
She replies with a string of champagne bottle emojis, and I can't help but smile. Maybe Millie will have some ideas. She's always been the creative one between us.
Standing up, I dust off my jeans and square my shoulders. Okay, Dad, if this is your way of pushing me out of my comfort zone, challenge accepted. I've wrangled wild stallions and survived gnarly thunderstorms. How hard can finding a husband be?
As I walk back toward the house, the morning sun climbs higher, bathing the ranch in a warm, hopeful glow. Despite the unexpected hurdle, a spark of excitement flickers inside me. This could be the start of a whole new adventure.
And if there's one thing I know how to do, it's embrace the wild ride.
I sip my mimosa, well more like guzzle it, as I sit with Millie in her bookstore. I’ve come to understand that Millie’s love of her bookstore is like my love for my ranch. We both find solace in our places and it’s a beautiful thing.
As we sit in the back where we usually have book club, she is excitedly talking about her boyfriend, Tripp’s, new book. I’m excited for both of them, but my mind is so preoccupied with thoughts of how to find a husband.
When Millie and Tripp got together, I saw the love she felt for him in her eyes. I see the way they are with each other and it’s special. It’s so clear the love they feel for each other and up until this moment I was never jealous of that.
Now, I wish I had put myself out there more. If I was dating someone it would be a little easier, maybe, but I have zero prospects and that stressful thought has had me up since I received the letter from my dad’s lawyer.
“Violet, have you heard anything I said?” Millie asks, raising an eyebrow as she stares at me.
I sigh, putting down the muffin that is nearly crushed in my hand. “I’m sorry, Millie. My mind is so preoccupied.”
She moves closer and rests her hand on my leg. A look of concern etches her face as she searches mine. “What’s going on?”
I want her advice, but I’m nervous about telling her. Partly because I’m still trying to wrap my head around it and partly because I don’t really want anyone judging my father. I can be pissed at him, but the thought of someone else having negative thoughts about him hurts. He was a good man, no, a great man. I was only ten when my mother died and my dad raised me from that point on. He did his best, teaching me everything I needed to know about the ranch, but not about life off the ranch. There was no time for a social life with the amount of work that comes with my lifestyle and I learned that from watching him. He taught me how to handle horses, plow the fields, work on farm equipment, and do repairs around the ranch. All my good memories have my dad in them and I don’t want anyone to like less of him for his wishes.
However, as I look at Millie, I know I need to talk to someone besides Joey. I need a girl’s point of view. A long sigh escapes me as I shake my head. “I got a letter from my dad’s lawyer yesterday and basically, if I don’t get married by my thirtieth birthday, I’ll lose the ranch.”
Her eyes widen, shock clear on her face as she pulls her hand off my leg and covers her mouth. “Oh my God, Violet. What are you going to do? Don’t you turn thirty soon?”
“Two and a half months.”
Her other hand rises, both now cover her mouth as she stares at me. “Violet, I don’t know what to say.”
“How about you tell me how to quickly find a husband,” I say, wringing my hands together.
She drops her hands, grabs the champagne, and pours it into our empty glasses. “No orange juice needed this time.” I graciously take a long sip as she begins nodding her head. “Okay, we’re going to figure this out.”
“How?” I hate sounding so needy, but I’m desperate.