Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
But already I was feeling better, so it must’ve been the wide-open space and the northern air.
I could do this. And if anything went south, I could always leave.
That thought sorted, I opened the top drawer of the dresser and began unpacking my suitcase.
4
Kerry
Julian was definitely not a kid anymore. He was handsome and a hero, and I was curious about his slight limp, but I didn’t want to ask and sound stupid, so maybe his injury would come up at a certain point. But fuck, how he survived a roadside bomb and everything else was beyond me.
I could tell there was tension in his gaze as he eyed me, and no doubt it was for the same reason the rest of the family had to doubt me. I’d hurt Sienna, she’d divorced me over it, and I deserved people’s scrutiny. The only thing I could possibly do was prove to everyone that I was a decent man, that I loved my family—as well as my ex; I just wasn’t in love with her. And by now, she wasn’t in love with me either. In fact, I was amazed she even tolerated me. If we didn’t have the foundation of friendship, she might’ve been long gone.
I exited the barn with Phoebe after milking the last cow—and appeasing Maisy with some cauliflower greens, her favorite—and spotted Julian near the chicken coop with Ainsley and Sienna. Hamlet was circling Julian’s ankles, which was unusual for him since he always stuck close by Phoebe. When Julian reached down to rub Hamlet’s ears, he looked pleased and snorted his approval.
As I got closer, I heard Ainsley naming the goats grazing in the pasture. Guess she’d gotten over her wariness about our visitor, but his approach had probably helped as well. Julian was right on by asking about the animals upon greeting her, almost like he was a natural. That had helped her come out of her shell. My gut clenched as I watched her motion animatedly, and my gaze met Sienna’s in a knowing look. It was more than shyness for our daughter. Since she’d been diagnosed with cancer, she’d developed anxiety about different things, depending on the situation, and preferred to stick close to us on the farm, sometimes to the detriment of our routine, especially if she was having a particularly needy day.
“I think Julian’s eyes are going to roll in the back of his head if you tell him any more names,” I said with a laugh. “Way to ease him into things.”
“Don’t worry,” he shot back. “I’ll be sure to have her name them all again tomorrow.”
“And she’d happily oblige,” Sienna remarked as we watched her run around the grass with the baby goats, whose once wobbly legs were finally getting their balance.
Right then Marta came out on the porch to signal to us that dinner was ready. It was alongside a stern look, most likely because we’d gotten distracted and it was a bit past six.
Marta didn’t normally stick around during the supper hour, and once she’d prepared it, she’d head home to her elderly mother, who lived with her. But tonight she seemed to have decided to eat dinner with us to properly greet our guest, which was kind of her.
As we made our way to the house, I was surprised to see that George had also stayed put, possibly to get to know our guest or make a good impression. If he did hang around, it was normally on Fridays, when we’d have a beer on the porch after dinner to toast to a hard week of work. His children were grown, and he joked that he and his wife were empty-nesters. They sometimes went on road trips on the weekends to visit their grandchildren or sightseeing, so this weekend must’ve been a quiet one for them.
Once we were all around the table, digging into the chili Marta made, Julian complimented Marta’s meal and told her how much he loved cornbread.
“Noted,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. He’d be sure to get priority treatment now. She might even make a batch special for him.
“How’s Aunt Melinda?” Sienna asked as she dug into her bowl.
“She’s doing great,” Julian replied, slathering more butter on his bread. “The realty business is booming, she lives in a great apartment on the Upper West Side, and she’s happy.”
I briefly wondered if she was pained to have him leave home again, except what parent would ever get used to that? But based on what Sienna said prior to his trip, he needed a change of scenery. Besides, he was with family, and that might’ve helped soothe Aunt Melinda’s nerves.
“I always liked your mom,” Marta said, and recognition seemed to dawn in Julian’s eyes. I’d wondered if Julian remembered her from the ranch, though it was years ago and she was only a part-timer then, whereas George was a new hire for us from another ranch in Cottonwood Creek.