Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
“My girls get attached kind of fast,” Rachel called over.
“Which is real nice, ma’am.”
Her smile was big and bright before I turned away, her youngest with a death grip around my neck, her oldest with her hand in mine.
As we walked, Mr. Benning told me about his home, the fifteen acres the house sat on, the stables, how close it was to running trails and riding trails, and how much he loved the farmers’ market on Sunday. He was making conversation, and I appreciated it.
The horses were gorgeous, the stables nicer than some of the hotels I’d slept in, and Mr. Benning enjoyed watching me saddle the mare I was going to ride. The four kids listened as I talked, and after a quick game of rock-paper-scissors, I had Tristan and Victoria with me and Mr. Benning the two youngest. We rode toward the house, and everyone waved as we passed by.
“Grandpa,” Tristan called over to him. “Who’s that man standing by Uncle Cyrus?”
He cleared his throat. “That’s a friend of your uncle Brett’s that he invited up for the weekend.”
I had definitely not seen him in the living room earlier.
“Oh.” Tristan turned to me. “Uncle Brett and Aunt Rachel—that’s Van and Vicky’s mom and dad—they invite their friends sometimes to meet Uncle Cyrus.”
“I see.” I smiled at him, a man of the world at eight.
“They didn’t know you were coming along with Cy, Weber,” Mr. Benning said, which was really decent of him.
“’Course not,” I said huskily.
“What is it you do, Weber?”
“I’m a ranch hand,” I told him, since that would be the next thing I would be.
“I see.”
I wondered what the blind date did but guessed it was better than jobless drifter, which was why I’d thrown out employment I didn’t have yet when I answered Cy’s father.
“Weber, how come the horse can’t go fast?” Tristan asked from where he was in front with Victoria behind him.
“Because I don’t wanna lose y’all.”
“Oh.” He seemed disappointed.
When we got back, I showed the kids what we had to do for the horse at the end of a ride, and they watched raptly. As we walked into the backyard, I saw everyone standing under the tree where Micah still was. Brett was getting ready to scale the tree after his nephew.
“Are you coming down?” I called up to him once I was directly underneath.
He nodded.
“When?”
“He’s scared,” Lyn told me.
“We’ve been trying to coax him down, get him to let go,” Cy said, putting his hand on my back, “but he just won’t.”
I grunted and noticed that Micah was starting to tremble.
“Cold, ain’t it?”
Another nod.
“Well, if you’re comin’, hurry up,” I grouched at him, holding up my arms. “Just let go. You know I’ll catch ya.”
He rolled sideways and fell from the thick branch twelve feet or so above me, and I caught him easily and set him on his feet. Kneeling down in front of him, I saw him bite his bottom lip.
“You’re sad you didn’t go ridin’ now, ain’t ya.”
He nodded.
“Next time tell me the truth if you’re stuck. You got no call to be lyin’ to me.”
He lunged at me, arms tight around my neck, and I lifted him up, holding him to my chest as I walked around the others toward the house.
“Who is he, exactly?” either Rachel or Cy’s mother asked.
“I already told you—he’s with me,” Cy replied.
“Weber!” the girls shrieked, chasing after me, with Pip and Tristan bringing up the rear.
In the house, I quickly washed my hands and then ordered all the kids to do the same. They bumped and nudged each other at the sink, which had a stool that two of them could stand on at a time, until I told them to knock it off and be nice. Once that was done, we all took seats at the table. I made sure Micah was next to me. When Cyrus’s mother walked in, I asked if we could have permission to get something to drink from the fridge.
“Of course.” She smiled, her big hazel eyes glinting as she crossed the room to offer me her hand. “I’m Cy’s mother. Please call me Angie.”
I squeezed her hand. “Then call me Web, and it’s a pleasure, ma’am.”
“For me as well.” She studied my face. “That was wonderful outside.”
What was?
My bewilderment must’ve shown on my face because she said, “You have no idea what I’m… Oh boy.”
I waited for her to stop talking to herself.
“My grandchildren are all in love with you, as well as my dogs.”
“I do well with kids and animals.” I chuckled. “They don’t care ’bout the same things adults do.”
“No, they don’t,” she said with a huff of breath. “The things adults care about can be quite stupid at times. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Angie,” she corrected me gently.
“Angie,” I repeated.
“Now sit down. What would you like to drink?”