Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
She gasps at that, already attached to the two horses she’s been watching for the last twenty minutes. I had been the same way when I’d seen the stallion. Felt a likeness to him. His devotion for the horse he felt was his. How he couldn’t bear living without her.
“I bought them right on the spot and brought them out here. Still not real sure what to do with them.”
Lucy’s reaches out and grabs my arm. Her little fingers are unable to fully reach around my forearm. It’s the first time she’s been the one to initiate the touch. It takes everything in me not to grab her and pull her towards me and mold her body against mine. Where it belongs.
“What do you mean do with them?” she asks, the concern clear in her voice.
“Well, normally my ranch breaks them in and then sells them.”
“You can’t split them up.” Her words are so fast I almost don’t catch them, her passion making her accent bleed through. Something about that turns me on even more. That fire lighting up her eyes.
“No. I can’t,” I confirm. “I’m not sure I can even part with them myself.” That makes her whole face light up, and I swear to Christ, my heart stops for a second. Fuck, I’ll let them move into the house if it keeps that look on her face.
“So then, you do know what you are doing with them?”
“No, I don’t know if I should leave them be, or break them in and try to train them.” She glances back to the horses, and I can’t read her expression. It bothers me that I can’t fully understand her every thought. Know all the little signs of what she’s thinking.
“They look happy out here.”
Luciana looks happy out here, too. It makes me believe that maybe she’d want to stay here too, because, like that wild horse, if someone tried to break us up I’m not sure I could go on either.
“I like watching them like this, too. It’s why I haven’t started to try. I’ve just let them be. I come out from time to time to check on them, but I have a feeling it won’t be long until she’s carrying a foal. Already might have one.”
Her hand on my arms slides down to my hand, her fingers lacing with mine. “I think we’ll keep checking on them, see how things go,” she says, looking up at me. “I'd love to be here when she births.”
“I like the sound of that,” I confirm. I like the idea that every day we’ll take a trip out here together. That she’ll be here when the horse does foal, because that would mean she's planning to stay longer than her set farm hours. I wonder if she even realizes what she said. “Come on, let’s get back. We barely covered any land today and have a lot to cover tomorrow. I’ll get you fed and into bed.” I don’t let her hand go as I walk back towards the Gator. I let her climb into the passenger’s seat, and only then do I finally let her hand go. I walk around to the driver’s side, hop in, and take off back towards the house.
When I pull up to the front of the house, I see Dolly leaning against her truck. My hackles start to rise when her mouth doesn’t turn up into a smile like it usually does. Dolly’s always happy, even when she’s being a sassy pain in the ass.
“What’s wrong?” I say, pulling up next to her.
“Ty called and said he hasn’t gotten a hold of Trace all day. You talk to him?” she questions, her eyes going over to Luciana. Dolly gives her a small wave.
I’m not sure if they’ve met before or not, but normally no one is a stranger to Dolly if she has her way. So I’m guessing they’ve shared a hello or two.
“No, but that’s Trace. He can go days without talking to anyone.” It’s not unheard of. Hell, a few times he’s taken off camping on his own land for weeks on end. It's not news that he likes to be alone.
My dad struck oil long ago when we were kids, and all the rigs are on Trace’s land. He just has to keep an eye out and run a few day-to-day things. We have an oil company that manages them for the most part. It’s easy for him to come and go as he pleases. That’s the way he likes it.
“Yeah, but I guess he was supposed to meet with Mr. Benson about some feed and never showed. Nor did he show to pick up the pies MJ made him.”
Trace might like to be alone, but he’s always punctual. If he says he’ll be somewhere, he’ll be there fifteen minutes before that time and then get pissed if you aren’t there at that time, too.