Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“Dad,” Brady grumbles, “stop with the bullshit. She is going to find out.”
“Find out what?” I ask him, then look at my father. “What are you guys not telling me?”
“We lost a couple of big contracts,” my father admits.
“A couple,” Brady mumbles. “More like all of them. Let’s just say the Cartwrights are still holding a grudge,” Brady declares, and I gasp. “Not one restaurant in town will hold our whiskey,” he continues, “and it seeps to all the surrounding areas.” I blink, and I think my heart is going to come out of my chest. “We have the stock; we just have nothing to do with it. We haven’t had a run in five months.” Just that thought alone is unfathomable. We used to sell out and have people on waiting lists to get our product.
I look at them. “What about shooting it out globally?” I ask them. “Selling it from a website?”
“There is only so much we can do,” my brother says. “We were going to ask you if you could help.” He looks at my father. “But Dad said no.”
“Did he?” I glare at my father. “You don’t think I should have known that my inheritance is being flushed down the tubes?” He shakes his head.
“You had enough on your plate,” my father says calmly. “We could have handled it.”
“Really?” I ask. “How is that going for you two?” I don’t wait for him to answer before I get up and push away from the table. “Let’s go.” I look at my brother.
His mouth is full of donut. “Go where?”
“I want to look at the books,” I tell him, “see what we have to work with.”
“I’m not even finished with my donut,” he groans out but gets out of his chair. “I forgot how bossy you are.”
I grab my own donut. “I guess I did too.” I take a bite of the donut. “Now, let’s get to work.”
Chapter Seven
Charlie
I slam the truck door closed, walking over to the door with Earl’s Diner across it. Pulling it open, I hear the sound of plates and utensils meeting at the same time. I walk straight to the long counter with round leather stools and sit on one, looking around to see the place jam-packed since it’s lunchtime. “Hey, Charlie.” I look over to see Isabel holding two plates in her hands. “I’ll be right with you.” She smiles shyly at me, and I just smirk at her.
“Take your time, Isabel,” I say, my fingers nervously beating against the counter while I wait for her to come back.
“What can I get you?” she asks me softly, taking out her server pad.
“I’ll have a bacon burger to go,” I say, “and a side of fries and rings.”
“Is that all?” she asks, her blue eyes lighting up. I nod and wink at her. She smirks at me before she turns and walks away. My eyes go to her ass as she sways her hips from side to side.
“What’s up, Charlie?” I look over to see Fred sitting down beside me.
“Not much,” I reply. “Was out and decided to stop in for lunch.”
“Good choice,” he says and I look over at the old man, wearing gray pants with a flannel shirt and his suspenders. “Heard you got some new horses in.”
“You heard right,” I tell him of the five new horses we got in last week. “You have time, you can come over and help break them in.”
He nods. “You betcha,” he says, “it’s been too long.”
When Isabel returns and places a cup of coffee in front of Fred, she places a brown bag in front of me. “That’ll be twelve seventy-four,” she announces. I reach into my back pocket, pulling out my wallet before tossing a twenty on the counter for her.
“Keep the change, Isabel.” I get up.
“Hope to see you soon,” she says before grabbing the twenty from the counter and smirking.
“You just might.” I grin before walking out of the diner. I hold the door open for a couple, who thank me, before I walk toward my truck.
I pull up to my house and go straight to the office instead of into my house. My eyes go to the red barn as I see a couple of trainers leading some horses out of it.
I pull open the front door that has Mustang Creek Ranch in the middle of it. I named it this as soon as I got the papers for the barn, putting my own stamp on it. I walk around the reception desk in front of five chairs in the waiting room.
Ten years ago, I moved to Montgavin to expand the Barnes therapy farm. Something my father started when he was twenty with two horses. Initially, it started with soldiers who would come home with PTSD symptoms. They would come by every day and do a couple of hours with the horses. Then he expanded it to women who came from abusive homes to kids who suffered anxiety and also special needs. It’s a different approach to healing. He now has barns all over the South. I came to town to do the startup and then met Jennifer and decided I would take over this branch. Now we have twenty-five horses that are working with people. Fifty people work the farm, along with twenty therapists working one-on-one with all our clients.