Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
It was the exact thing I needed to snap me out of it, and before I could make a bigger fool of myself in front of Mr. Carmichael, who looked a bit confused, two guys taller than me swept onto the porch to greet us. They were Kerry’s younger brothers, but I couldn’t recall their names.
Thankfully Kerry helped out again. “Julian, these are my brothers, Travis and Hunter.”
As I shook their hands, I noted they were both handsome guys, and don’t even get me started on the muscles in all the right places. But Kerry was the better-looking, more rugged of the bunch. Stereotypes be damned.
Whereas Hunter seemed impressed by my years in service, Travis was the more amicable of Kerry’s brothers, asking about my work on the silo and my stay at the farm. As his parents pointed out parts of their ranch to me—mostly what was new since I last visited, like new housing for the cattle—Hunter explained their operation in more detail while Travis joked with Kerry. I was relieved for Kerry, that there was at least one member of the family who had broken through all the tension, and now I wondered if they’d been closer their entire lives. I knew Kerry was the oldest, but that didn’t mean the younger two had a better relationship.
Travis’s wife and kids came out to greet us, and after the introductions and a walk-through of one of the new barns, we headed inside to eat.
Mrs. Carmichael patted my arm as she motioned for me to take a seat at the long table. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I noted the meat and vegetables and biscuits in the center, to be served family-style.
Dinner was a bit chaotic. People talked over each other about the cattle trade, and a couple of neighbors dropped by unannounced, haggling about the cost of this or that, so they must’ve run a nearby ranch. The food was damned good, though, so I dug into the pot roast, my mouth full half the time as I tried to keep track of the main conversation, which was interesting but way out of my wheelhouse.
Kerry’s attention seemed trained on his mother’s discussion with Sienna about their daughter instead of what the other men were discussing, and that made me feel out of sorts. He wasn’t included in any of the conversations about the business, not even to ask his opinion. In fact, he was largely ignored unless it was to ask him to pass one dish or another.
He might not have worked on the ranch anymore, but he was the owner of a farm in this community, and probably had something useful to offer. But the more I watched, the more I wondered if he preferred it that way. To remain invisible. His body language sure made it seem that way, as he sat angled toward his mother and ex-wife, his shoulders bunched, his forehead wrinkled. When our gazes met across the table, he would nod or offer a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. It was as if he wished he could be anywhere else in the world, and if you looked closely enough, he seemed to be coming apart at the seams. It made me wish we’d been sitting next to each other so I could engage him in conversation to help him get through this.
Ainsley was eating at the kids’ table with Travis’s children and some random kids who might’ve been neighbors, and she seemed comfortable enough, even though her gaze kept sweeping to her parents as if she was checking to make sure they were still in the other room.
Once our plates were cleared, Ainsley ran off to play outside with her cousins as the adults moved to the veranda for dessert. A breeze kicked up as dusk moved across the horizon, and I couldn’t help appreciating the beauty of the landscape.
I was asked general questions about my time in service as well as living in the city as Mrs. Carmichael handed me a slice of her apparently famous salted honey pie.
“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” I remarked after my first bite, and she beamed, which I found endearing.
“Be careful,” Travis said. “She’s liable to try fattening you up too.”
“Hush,” his mother said, pink dotting her cheeks. “I like to feed all my boys.”
They murmured in agreement, and when her gaze swept toward Kerry, her eyes softened. I got a lump in my throat as I witnessed some little moment passing between them, almost like she was offering her own olive branch. Or maybe she already had and was making sure he knew it. I looked away because I felt like I was intruding, then got roped into a conversation with one of the neighbors, who asked me about the silo project.