Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Oh,” he said. “I guess I’ll call the bossman and ask him what he wants me to do.”
I smiled and went walking back to the ranch house, wondering why I felt out of sorts.
As I made my way closer to the house, I decided it was because I didn’t like being idle.
I liked doing things that kept my mind busy. I liked working and making money. Making myself useful.
What I did not like doing was standing here twiddling my thumbs.
Every person I passed I smiled at. Each person barely smiled back.
Everyone was in a terrible mood.
They were all hungry.
All tired.
And all of them were wearing such ferocious scowls that I thought it’d be better for me to leave them alone rather than entertain them.
I remembered Joe’s words from when I’d eaten dinner with them.
“Enid only comes on Tuesday through Thursday,” Joe said. “Sorcha comes the rest of the days. And sometimes everyone goes hungry.”
I’m not sure why, but I found myself in the ranch kitchen cooking.
I decided on queso, beans, and rice since I’d all but mastered this particular recipe, and everyone loved it.
My old college roommate had taught it to me, then handed off the reins when she realized that I could make it better than her.
I was almost completely done with everything when the first sign of life came back to the ranch.
Tired, sweaty, and looking a little dusty, Joe and Jetty were the first ones I saw.
DeeDee and Catalina showed next, along with two dogs that I hadn’t seen in a long time.
Coty and Brodie, the heeler cattle dogs that used to run cows with the family.
I hadn’t seen them in weeks, which made me think that Juliana had somehow been able to keep them in the divorce.
Both dogs walked right up to the edge of the walk, drank heartily from the always-filled dog bowl there, and then lay down in the sun. Happy and replete.
I didn’t see any signs of Denver, nor several of the ranch hands that’d disappeared with them earlier.
Opening the door to the back of the house, I called out to the group that was sitting there looking exceptionally tired. “Food’s on!”
They all looked at me so hopefully that it would’ve been comical had they truly not looked like they were ready to drop.
They’d left out that morning at half past seven, tearing out of the yard with nothing.
Hell, Denver had even left bareback with only a rope in his hands—we wouldn’t talk about how hot it was to see him steer a horse with only those strong, powerful thighs encased in chaps.
“What’d you make?” DeeDee asked. “It smells absolutely amazing!”
“Beans and rice with queso,” I answered as I saw more ranch hands trickle into the yard heading our way.
The ones that’d been here the entire time, likely.
The kitchen filled with people eating my food, and I was so caught up in everything that was going on that I didn’t see the arrival of a white suburban until someone was knocking on the door.
Seeing as everyone was mid-meal, I waved the girls off and answered the door myself.
“Hello.” I smiled at the man.
His eyes narrowed.
“Georgina Lorena Cain?”
The official-looking man had my hackles rising.
It was Denver who came strolling up, looking dusty as hell, scowling ferociously, and being all sexy in his intimidating way.
“What do you want?”
“I’m here to ask if this is Georgina Lorena Cain.”
“And who wants to know?” Denver asked.
I narrowed my eyes at Denver and gestured for him to leave.
He did, but I could tell that he wasn’t very happy about it.
He walked inside and closed the door, but I knew he was on the other side just waiting to pounce.
“I’m Lester Tides,” the man said, looking visibly relieved that Denver was no longer there to intimidate him. “I’m with the State’s office. If you’re Georgina Lorena Cain, you’re being served.”
“That’s me,” I said carefully.
I knew what this was about.
Honestly, I’d been expecting it, too.
My mother would never let my father leaving his life insurance to me slide.
I took the papers and walked inside without saying another word to him.
When I got inside, Denver was at the stove plating his food so high that queso was spilling over the sides.
I chose his moment of inattention to find a plastic grocery sack in the pantry to stuff them inside.
Those papers were something I’d be dealing with later.
“This is amazing,” Jetty said with what looked like a second portion on his plate. “Who’d you learn this recipe from?”
I glanced surreptitiously at the man who was now leaning against the counter with a plate in his big hand, shoveling food into his mouth at the speed of light. In between bites and chewing, he wore a scowl.
“I had a roommate from Texas,” I said, forcing myself to look away. “She had the art of queso, rice, and beans down pat because she said it’s her favorite meal when she goes back home and eats Tex-Mex. It’s fantastic.”