Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“Is it okay if we head back? I’d like to spend some time in the field with Mama this afternoon since the weather is supposed to be nice,” I said.
“Sure thing,” West agreed. “Let’s pack up and go.”
The drive back to Hobie was much more pleasant than the ride to Dallas had been. West went out of his way to tease Hudson in front of me by telling stories from when they were little and calling him out for his idiosyncrasies. Hudson’s self-conscious laughter was sweet, and at some point I must have felt comfortable enough to lie down on his lap and doze. I’d had way too much to drink the night before and had been guzzling water as much as possible to make up for it. By the time we pulled down the bumpy drive to the ranch, I was ready to be done with the vehicle for the day.
We gave West and Nico our thanks before Hudson headed to the bunkhouse with our bags, and I made my way to the farmhouse to collect Mama.
After thanking Doc for taking care of her, I met Hudson out by the barn and led him to the large open field I’d used for training since I’d been staying at the ranch. It was a shame I didn’t have any sheep on hand to truly show off what she could do, but he could at least see how responsive she was to commands and how her body went low and fluid when she hit top speed.
As I ran her through a list of whistled and called commands, I let the afternoon sun warm my skin through my shirt. It was warmer than usual, according to Hudson, and it almost felt like a summer day in Ireland.
Hudson was suitably impressed with Mama’s tricks and seemed to relax even more than I did in the winter sunshine. We wound up taking a long walk around the ranch. Hudson pointed out places he’d played as a child and the direction of the home he grew up in. He told me about the house burning down the previous year and how his brother Otto had come to be with the town sheriff. At one point he reached for my hand and threaded his fingers through mine as we walked. I thought about how similar our childhoods were but how different they were at the same time.
We ended up by a shady creek and sat down on a large rock by the water. “This is my thinking spot,” he said softly.
“Mm. You love it here,” I said. “On the ranch I mean. You talk about it like it’s your favorite place in the world, and I’ve seen you take a horse out after work the few times we’ve gotten home before sunset.”
“Yeah, I guess. I used to daydream about taking over for Grandpa when I got old enough,” he admitted. “I always wanted to be a rancher when I was little.”
“We both dreamed of working outside,” I said. “I used to pretend I was a sheep farmer. Before I learned to work with dogs specifically, I still knew I wanted to work with animals in some capacity. Why didn’t you grow up to become a rancher?”
He shrugged. “My dad was a financial analyst. He always made it seem like an intelligent man’s pursuit. He wanted me to go to college and get a master’s degree in business so I could join the finance world like he did.”
“Is that something you wanted?” I asked. “We talked about this a bit before, but…”
He opened his mouth to respond but then stopped and sighed. “You know what? Not really. I wanted to make him proud of me more than anything. I followed in his footsteps because it seemed to be what was expected of me. I wanted him to be happy. I think part of me wanted to prove to him I could look after our family if anything ever happened to him.”
I chuckled softly. “The dutiful oldest child. A role I know quite well.”
Hudson smiled and glanced at me. I stood up and pulled him close with a hand on the front of his shirt.
“Kiss me,” I murmured. “I see your lips sometimes and it’s all I can think about.”
Those full lips landed on mine before I took my next breath. They were soft but firmly pressed into mine. He tasted like the peppermints West had offered us on the drive home.
“You taste so good, Irish,” he whispered into my mouth. “I could kiss you forever.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to stand on tiptoes to keep kissing him. When my legs tired out, I climbed him until he got the message and held me under the arse. With my arms and legs wrapped around him and the late-afternoon sun on my back, I thought maybe I’d reached one of those golden moments in my life—the kind that imprint and burrow forever inside the heart.