Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“He’s a natural and has taken over most of the physical duties—”
“Well, he practically grew up at Rollingwood himself and knows it like the back of his hand.”
The thought of him causes her to smile. She looks down as if she can hide it from me. Is that what love looks like? It’s how Mom used to look at Dad. I shift, tempted to drop my feet to the ground to find a more solid surface to rest on than this thin metal bar.
I don’t. I’m not giving Christine the satisfaction of proving she’s right. Do I consider it running when I leave? No. I’ve always had a backup plan. Even when it came to settling down. I knew it was something I didn’t want at her age. After all these years, though, and maybe being back in the Pass, my emotions are mixed up. I have no idea what I want anymore.
This is why I don’t stay in one place. I start to face reality, and I’m more lost than ever. At least, the ranch is a nice detour to give me time to figure out where I go from here.
She says, “We have solid ranch hands in place as well. Now I don’t have to do the outside chores, but I do miss riding my horse. I find her grazing out front most early mornings.”
“When can you ride again?”
“The doctor said it was fine since having the baby four months ago, but I—” She sighs. “I just want to wait a bit longer. No need to rush it. I still spend time with Sunrise each day, though. And our little Julie Ann seems interested in horses already by how she wriggles when she sees them.” My niece was named after our mom, which I think is sweet. Though hearing her name is still not something I’m used to. I know I will in time. And she’s so cute that it fits her. My mom would have loved having grandkids.
“Maybe she’ll barrel race like you did.”
“I’d love it, but only if it’s something she loves. I’m not forcing it, but I’ll support her own goals. You had baseball. Baylor was all about football. I had the rodeo. The ranch is the perfect place to dream as wide as the sky.”
I’m not sure I’ve seen this side of my sister. Maybe it’s because I’ve been out of the house since before she turned fifteen because of our age difference, or perhaps it’s because she’s a mom with a family of her own. Either way, I’m glad to see it now.
I steal one more bite of pie and then stand. Three kids and a husband keep her busy enough. She doesn’t need me to add myself into the mix. “I’m heading back to Dad’s house. I need to ice my shoulder.”
“I’m still not sure how you got roped into this game, but I’m glad you said yes. I love having the family together again. Greene Farms is a sponsor—”
“Oh yeah? Guess I can’t let the family down, then.”
That makes her laugh again. “No pressure from us, old man.”
Chuckling, I reply, “Let’s hope the ice helps, or you’ll be sneaking out of that stadium not wanting to be seen.”
“We’re stepping over enemy lines to watch you play again, so there’s a little pressure.” She holds her fingers almost pinched together. “Just a wee bit.”
Since she brought it up again . . . “Speaking of enemy lines, what is the history with Dover County? What caused the ruckus between our families?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know how that legend began. I’ve just always known there was a rivalry. Not sure I ever heard the cause.”
“Yeah, me neither, but I’m curious.”
“Oh great. Now I’m curious, too. I’m sure I’ll be thinking about this at three a.m.” She rolls her eyes. “If you find out, let me know.”
“I will.” I walk around the island and playfully lock her into a hug, kissing her head. “I’m glad to be back.”
My nieces waking from their nap gives me time for a quick hello before I start back across the field and up the hill to the other house. While working out my arm, I start to wonder if I’m getting too old for this.
It’s not something that’s crossed my mind even as the years ticked by. I’ve played here and there, picking up a few games in Mexico and Japan as a fill-in when their third basemen got injured, but it’s been a while since then. I’m feeling it, and don’t know if ibuprofen can put me back together like it used to. Here’s to hoping.
One thing I know is it sure does feel different walking on this hard earth at thirty-five than it did at fifteen or even twenty-five, when I’d come back to visit. I can kid myself that some things change and others stay the same, but it’s not the things or the land. It’s me. And that’s never been more apparent since returning.