Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
I’ve lived it.
And I won’t let my kids break again.
***
The sun’s a little higher now, the chill easing off as we circle back toward the barn. I swing down first, then lift Eli from the saddle. She runs off with Junie, Matty, and the twins who were waiting for their return, Beau trotting after them like he’s shepherding them.
I lean against the fence, arms folded, watching the kids race and shriek and climb over things they shouldn’t. Boots scuff the dirt beside me, but I don’t look over. I don’t need to. I know the gait of every man in this place. My brother, Cody, slaps his palms on the top rail and lets out a long breath. “They look happy.”
“Yeah.”
He leans sideways, his shoulder bumping mine lightly. “You’re brooding.”
“Don’t start.”
He chuckles low. “Not startin’. Just observin’.”
I grunt and tug at my collar, which feels too tight.
Cody quiets for a second, then glances my way. “You heard, didn’t you?”
I don’t answer because I don’t need to. My room’s next to Nash’s. I’d have to be dead to miss the ruckus from last night.
“Me and Nash…” He pauses. “It’s a test, see. We have to know if she can do this. Waiting… it doesn’t make sense when it’s the thing that’s broken the others.” He nods slowly, watching the horizon. “She ain’t like the others, Dyl. I think she might stay.”
The weight in my chest twists harder. “They all seem like they might stay… right up until the day they don’t.”
Cody exhales. “Maybe. But you know what Conway says. Can’t win the lottery if you don’t buy a ticket.”
I glance sideways. Cody’s smirking like he knows it’s a dumb-ass line, but he believes it anyway. He has a faint hickey on his neck, left behind by Grace’s hungry mouth.
“Yeah.” My voice is rough. Tiredness bleeds through me. “Well, I haven’t exactly been on a winning streak, and I ain’t sure how many more times I can afford to lose, Cody.”
***
Later that afternoon, after the horses are settled and the chores are mostly squared away, I take Eli with me to check the fence line by the east paddock. It’s her favorite, and it’s enough responsibility to feel important, but not so much that it weighs her down.
She walks beside me in her little boots, hands stuffed into her pockets, face serious, eyes darting from post to post, like she’s memorizing the land. Her hair is braided neatly and tied at the bottom with thin pink ribbons that are a woman’s work.
“Is Miss Grace gonna come out today?” she asks, voice soft but clear.
I glance down, surprised. Eli rarely starts conversations, and this is the second time today. “Maybe.”
“She read us a book last night,” Eli continues. “Did the funny voices and everything.”
I hum, nodding, giving her space to say what’s on her mind.
“And she let me sit in her lap even though my jeans were muddy.” Eli kicks at a rock, then looks up at me under dark lashes.
The air stills around me. She’s so pretty, like her momma, that sometimes it’s hard to look at her.
I swallow hard.
“Do you like her, Daddy?”
My throat closes tight until I swallow it open again. “Yeah, baby girl,” I manage. “I like her, too.”
I don’t say the rest, and that’s what scares me.
We keep walking, and I watch Eli smile as Beau bounds out of the brush ahead of us, chasing grasshoppers like a deranged kangaroo. My boots feel heavier with every step.
The more Grace weaves into the fabric of our lives, the more it’ll hurt when she eventually pulls free. I know that love can’t be forced. Sometimes, even when it’s there, nestling in your heart, it dries up and blows away like tumbleweed. But I wish I could protect my girls from the heartache of loving and losing when they’re too little to understand.
***
Later, after supper, I find myself leaning on the top rail of the paddock fence, watching the sky melt from gold to deep purple. The kids are inside with Harrison and Lennon. I need a minute to breathe.
Conway appears beside me, arms folded, hat tipped back enough to show his steady expression. “Heavy thinking, huh?”
I grunt. “You don’t know the half of it.”
There’s three years between us, but most of the time it feels like nothing. He’s always taken the leadership role in the place, but I’ve had the failed marriage and the kids, so maybe that’s what puts us more on an even footing.
He watches the horizon for a while before speaking again. “I’m not standing in the same place as you. I get it. I understand all your fears, Dylan. I want you to know that.”
I cut him a sharp look.
“And I ain’t saying you’re wrong for worrying. But I can tell you this: that woman in there is the first to cross our threshold who has the backbone for the burden and bliss of this family. She’s the first to bond with those kids and find a way to engage with every man on this ranch, even Brody.”