Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
"I never said anything about hurting her," she says, opening the drawer and taking out the white envelope. “I said don’t play games."
"Meaning?" I look at her.
"Meaning that if you aren’t in this for the whole ride, get off the horse,” she says, and I roll my eyes at her. "This is what you asked me for."
I grab the envelope and look inside. “Thank you."
"Oh, don’t thank me yet." She leans back and smiles. “You still have to give it to her." She shakes her head. “Good luck with that."
I turn, not willing to give her anything else. I walk out and look down the hallway and see one of the stalls open. I start walking when I hear her voice. “You look so good today." She talks to the horse, and I have to say she is a natural. She knows how to touch them, how to speak to them, and how to get them to trust her. There aren’t many people who can do that so easily. "Now you have a lesson in twenty minutes,” she says, brushing the horse. “And I just know that you are going to be the best one out there."
In the past week, I’ve seen her come alive when she talks to these horses. I’ve seen her guard lower just so they can trust her. “Hey,” I say softly so as not to scare her or the horse.
She looks up, and unlike the first day when she came in wearing white jeans and running shoes, she wears blue jeans that sit low on her hips with a blue tank top. Her face has gotten so much color, and her hair is getting lighter from spending all the time out in the sun. "Hey," she says. “I did those three." She looks at me. “And I have to go back and talk to Hope."
"Is she okay?" I ask, and she looks down and then up again.
"I think I hurt her feelings when I just put her food in and left,” she says. “Usually, I talk to her and brush her while she eats."
I want to tell her that she probably didn’t notice, but I can see how much this bothers her. "Well," I say to her. “This is for you,” I say, holding out the white envelope.
"What is that?" she asks. I don’t answer her because she leans over and takes the white envelope from my hand. Our fingers graze each other, and my whole body wakes up. Every night, we sit outside and watch the sun go down. Neither of us says anything, but I wouldn’t trade that time with her for all the money in the world. Her sitting there with me. Her eyes going so green, I get lost in them.
I watch her face as she opens the envelope and looks inside. "What is this?" she whispers, her hand shaking.
"That is your paycheck,” I say. She looks up at me, and I can see she is going to argue with me.
"I can’t take this from you," she says and holds the envelope back out for me.
"I’m not giving you that money," I tell her, crossing my arms over my chest. “You worked for that,” I say. “All this week, you worked over forty hours."
"I did not,” she says, shaking her head.
"You get here at five thirty, and you don’t leave until four,” I say.
"But …" she says.
"You come in here and ride Hope,” I say. “Then you clean and muck the stalls. You feed the horses, and for the past two days, you’ve been bringing each of them outside for exercise."
"But …” she says again, and this time, I see a tear form in her eye. I walk to stand in front of her.
"But nothing, Willow,” I say softly. My hand comes up to stop the tear from rolling down her face. “You earned that fair and square."
“I don’t know what to say,” she says, and for the first time, she doesn’t walk away from my touch. My heart speeds up, and I’m surprised she can’t see it trying to get out of my chest. I feel like I just won the fucking lottery.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I say, moving my thumb softly over her cheekbone.
"I do have to say something,” she says. She looks at the envelope again, and my hand falls down to my side. “This is …" She shakes her head. “You have no idea what it means to me." I don’t say anything because the only thing I want to say to her will probably push her away. "This is the first time I’ve ever gotten a check,” she says, still looking down at the envelope. “The first time I’ve ever gotten paid for a job." Her voice trembles. “It’s the first time I have money, and I don’t have to hand it over. I don’t have to pay a drug dealer. I don’t have to pay rent or a hotel bill. I don’t have to pay for gas so we can leave the Walmart parking lot." She smiles when she looks up now. “It’s mine. All mine."