Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Nope.” I shook my head. “I remember you though. You always looked like you were born on a horse.”
“Near enough.” His eyes narrowed. “I was seventeen when my dad and I arrived at the ranch. You were a little guy, maybe ten? Eleven?”
“Somewhere around there.” I did some fast math in my head. “You’ve been here thirty years? Wow. Any quarter horse operation in the country would likely be lucky to have someone with your experience as foreman, not to mention most cattle ranches. And before you go citing your injuries again, I know you’ve had offers.”
“People like to talk.” Grayson pursed his lips as he stopped near a more reasonably sized horse named Adzuki. The name was undoubtedly a nod to the popular regional bean crop, along with the horse’s brownish-red coloring with white splotches. “This is home, and I have a bunkhouse full of hands counting on me here. Not gonna up and leave.”
“While I appreciate that, it’s funny how no one liked my dad, yet the whole damn town, you included, were so loyal.”
“My loyalty is to the ranch.” Grayson’s tone hardened. “Your father had high standards and set ways of doing things, but he also had a clear delegation of duties. He trusted my father and let him rule the bunkhouse. Same with me. Gave me a longer leash than a lot of bosses would. Especially in his later years, he was happy to just ride the fence or work with his horses. This operation is bigger than one man, and it’s also one of the last of its kind. I don’t wanna be on some corporate payroll.”
“I get that. It’s hard for me to separate the ranch from him and his bitterness,” I admitted as I followed Grayson to the tack room, where he retrieved a saddle. “I asked Faith earlier if she thought he’d ever been happy. You remember my mom, though, right? Were they always miserable?”
“I’m not gonna excuse the way your father treated you kids, but from what I’ve heard, his father was ten times worse. I remember your mom was one of the few who could make your dad laugh or get him to take a break.” Grayson went through familiar, efficient motions in readying Adzuki, slipping into the stall and clipping him onto a lead so he could saddle him. “Not sure on happy, but I reckon he loved her. He didn’t laugh after she and Mel died, that’s for sure.”
“He turned meaner. Like anything good inside him died too.” Outside of Colt and some therapy, I hadn’t talked to anyone else this deeply about my father, and my skin felt raw and hot, like an exposed scrape.
“He did turn mean. Like a wounded animal,” Grayson agreed with a sharp nod. “Doesn’t justify how he treated you. I heard some of your fights. You were headstrong, and he was a born bronco buster, but I understood why you left. Never judged you for that. Figured the ranch would be here if you returned.”
I inhaled so sharply that my chest pinched. “You stayed for me?”
“Maybe in part.” Grayson sounded distracted and slightly cagey like he was reluctant to reveal his inner workings. “I couldn’t intervene back then. I was a green ranch hand. He wouldn’t have listened in any event, and I couldn’t risk him turning my dad and me out. But I could protect your legacy, keep it ready.”
“What if I don’t want my legacy?”
“So be it.” Another of his trademark shrugs. Finished getting Adzuki ready, Grayson held out the reins. “This is a good horse. Sturdy. Good stock. Listens well. Little long in the tooth, but you wanted slow.”
“I did. Thank you. For everything.” I swallowed like I was the one with a bit in my mouth, and my eyes burned with more than my hay allergy.
“Let’s turn you out in the ring, see what you two make of each other.” Grayson gestured at the empty indoor riding arena.
I carefully led the horse to one of the mounting blocks. Yes, I knew perfectly well how to mount up without a step, but it had been twenty long years, and I didn’t want to fall flat on my face in front of my foreman. Once seated, I guided Adzuki in a slow circle, muscle memory returning in little bursts, first the posture, then the commands, and finally, a little more ease in the saddle, a trust that I wouldn’t hit the sawdust.
“Turns out I remember more than I thought,” I said to Grayson as we circled back around.
“Figured.” He jerked his head in my direction. “You look good up there. Almost caught you smiling.”
“It’s more fun without someone barking orders at me. I can almost see why Hannah loves it so much.”
“Good.” He gestured for me to keep riding. “You deserve fun. Keep going. I’ll check back in a bit.”