Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I lived at my parents’ old place outside of town. Years ago, it had been part of my great-grandfather’s and grandfather’s farm, but time and bad luck had whittled it down to these few acres. I leased the hay fields to a neighboring farmer, leaving me the house, barn, and empty paddock. Not for the first time, I wished for a dog or horse to come home to, but my hours were crazy enough that it wouldn’t be fair to a pet. Gone were the days when a rural vet could have a dog ride along on calls. Most of my larger clients were too particular to allow that.
My stomach continued to rumble, but I ignored it in favor of heading around the back of the small house to my mother’s garden. Her pride and joy was carefully fenced in to keep critters out. I’d built the two large raised beds near the garden gate while home on leave because she’d become too weak to manage much kneeling. She’d insisted on leaving the other ground-level beds, however, so her beloved perennials didn’t have to get uprooted.
I’d helped install soaker hoses for easier watering years back, but the heat this time of year meant extra watering and extra vigilance. Her neat handwriting adorned little markers throughout the garden, helping me remember what was what. I gave a halfhearted stab at pulling the worst of the weeds before hunger won out. I headed inside for a low-sodium can of soup and a quick chicken sandwich on whole wheat bread. Easy.
As I ate, I glanced over at the bare wood floor near the fridge where the bowls for a parade of dogs had sat while my mom had been alive. My dad’s last cowboy hat perched on a nearby peg, boots neatly lined up beneath. As a kid, I’d been so oblivious to the ways Mom had made this house a home, but now I missed her something fierce. Missed them both. I wasn’t too proud to admit this life of mine was a little lonely, but I was used to it by now. If I were dwelling on it, though, that was as good a reason as any to try to make the next veterans’ meeting in Durango, regardless of whether Carson wanted to come along.
Chapter Three
Carson
“How’s work?” Colt asked as we all got settled in Maverick’s truck for the drive to my mom’s house in town.
I was sharing the backseat with Colt’s daughter Willow and Maverick’s niece Hannah, and I had never more acutely missed being able to drive. Both teen girls were playing around on their phones, which left Colt ample time to grill me while Maverick drove.
“Decent.” It had been a full week of work, and I couldn’t complain. Sure, shoveling horse shit was hard work, but exercising the horses and seeing to their needs was a welcome escape from all the folks trying to watch over me. Plus, as the week had dragged on, Grayson and Kat had backed off their hovering and given me more responsibility. Now, if only I could say the same for my family.
“Everyone treating you all right?” Colt prodded as we headed into Lovelorn.
“Yep.” Wasn’t even noon yet, and my head throbbed. It was going to be a long day. I wanted to save my conversational energy, but Colt made a frustrated noise.
“Look, I know you’d rather not go to this thing, but Mom wants all of us there. We won’t stay long.”
“I’m good.” I was going to hold Colt to that promise of an early exit though.
Kat had offered me the full day off, but I’d volunteered to do some chores before dinner. Checking feed and water sounded way better than a birthday party for our brother with all our relatives in attendance, many of whom hadn’t seen me since my injury.
“I had no clue what to get Kane for his birthday,” Maverick chimed in.
“Trouble,” I deadpanned, which earned a snort from Colt.
It was true though. Kane had a knack for finding trouble, and he’d had a wild reputation all through school. He’d continued to raise hell as an adult, but that didn’t stop our mom from wanting to throw him a birthday party.
“I settled on a gift card.” Maverick chuckled. “And maybe he’s reformed.”
“Or not.” I echoed Colt’s snort.
“Aren’t you and Kane friends?” Maverick asked, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “You two were closest in age, so I always assumed you were buddies.”
“More like oil and water,” Colt answered for me, but he wasn’t wrong. “Lord, could those two fight. I had to break up some epic wrestling matches.”
“Poor you.” Maverick reached over and gave Colt a quick pat. They weren’t huge on PDA, but their easy familiarity with each other made my insides clench with something between jealousy and discomfort. “And poor Carson.”