Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Dramatic, maybe, but it’s me, and that’s how fucking much I love my wife. Okay, she’s not my wife yet, but the moment she said yes, that’s what she became to me, and I’ll never think of her any other way.
“I’m heading out,” I tell Chandler.
He nods. “I’m headed over to Magnolia Estates to shoe the trail horses,” he tells me.
“I’m headed that way, too,” I tell him. I try not to smile, but I can’t help it.
“Little brother, are you skipping out of work your first official week back to hang out with your girl?”
“The answer to that will always be yes.” I chuckle. I go on to clarify, “We have plans, and it was a last-minute thing that couldn’t be changed. I’m sorry to drop it on you last minute. I can stop by and help finish up when I get back.”
“Nah, it’s fine. The schedule is still light for just me. It’s been a while since you’ve done farrier work. I wanted to make sure we eased you back into it.”
“I’ve been helping out and doing just fine,” I remind him.
He nods. “I know, but I thought with Mom’s appointments and whatnot—you’ve been doing the majority of that—I could help out, and if we keep the schedule light, either one of us could handle the load with that.”
“Makes sense. I’ll call you when Ells and I get back, and if you’re still there, I’ll come help you finish up. Get you home to that wife and kids of yours a little earlier,” I tell him.
* * *
“I’ll be done,” he assures me. “Colter has baseball practice, and the coach has to be there.” He grins.
“Damn, we’re getting old,” I tell him.
“We are. You ever plan on making me an uncle?”
I don’t know how I keep a straight face and not let my happiness about our baby shine through. “Yeah, Chan, I plan on making you an uncle. I just got my girl back,” I remind him.
“I figured you’d have a ring on her finger by now,” he says.
“Got the ring,” I admit. I don’t tell him that I have two rings, because there’s no point bringing up the past. I bought her a new one earlier this week, and it was my lucky day that they had her size in stock.
“What in the hell are you waiting on, Cope?”
“I already asked her,” I admit. “But I didn’t have the ring. It was one of those moments where I didn’t want another second to pass by without knowing she’s mine forever. Now, I need to do it the right way.”
“You need any help?”
“I think I’m good, man. But if I do, you’ll be the first person I call.”
“Well, get on with it, will ya? My kids need some cousins, and I want to be Uncle Chandler while I can still have fun with them.”
“You’re forty, not eighty,” I remind him.
“Hey, eighty-year-olds can still have fun,” he jokes. “But really, I want to see you happy, Cope. I know marriage and kids with Ellison was always the plan. I’m glad after all these years, you’re getting the life you wanted.”
“Me too, brother. Me too.”
He slaps me on the back, and we both head to our trucks. I follow him out of the driveway to Magnolia Estates. He waves as he keeps on moving to the barn, while I park outside the inn and head inside to get Ellison.
I find her in her office, staring out the window. “Penny for your thoughts,” I say, stepping inside.
She turns to face me with a smile on her face. “Hey, Cope.”
“Hi, baby. You ready for today?”
She nods, her eyes glassing over with unshed tears. “There’s going to be more of this,” she says, smiling and pointing at her eyes. “I just… It’s all happening, Copeland. Everything we ever dreamed of, and while I’m thrilled, I’m also still hurt. My mom—I’m having a hard time getting past what she did.”
Moving around her desk, I crouch down beside her chair, and she turns to face me. “She loved you, Ells. I don’t know that I forgive her for taking you from me, but she kept my letters. I’d like to think that eventually she would have done the right thing.”
“That doesn’t make it better, and she wrote that letter to me because she was never going to tell me.”
“I don’t know. I think she wrote that letter out of guilt, and in the off chance something did happen, she wanted to explain the best way she knew how. Think about finding my letters in the attic with no explanation at all. At least we know why.”
“Yeah,” she agrees.
“Have you read them yet?” She was so upset when we found them on Sunday that she carried them down to her room but didn’t want to open them.