Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
She darts inside and emerges a few minutes later with a small cosmetic case. She jumps in the truck, and I peel out of the driveway.
After a small eternity, I pull into my parking spot in the grass beside the cabin and cut the ignition. The night sounds of the ranch fill the silence: crickets, trees moving in a breeze.
“Cash?” Mollie asks.
I shove open the door. “Yeah?”
“What’s everyone going to say when they find out I slept here?”
Everyone meaning the people who live and work on Lucky Ranch. She’s worried they’ll think less of her. Maybe they’ll think she slept with me to get something.
Or I slept with her to get something. Namely the ranch.
“They say anything, I’ll take care of ’em.” I hop out of the truck and hold out my hand.
She tilts her head and pins me with a stare. “Easy for you to say. Everyone respects the hell out of you.”
“They respect the hell out of you too. You’ve earned it this week, working your ass off like you have.”
“And now I’m going to lose that respect by fucking my foreman.”
My lips twitch. “I promise I’m worth the risk.”
“You would say that.”
“Look, I get why you’re worried. There’s a double standard when it comes to this stuff. But people around here—I wouldn’t say they mind their own business, but they know better than to meddle in other people’s lives. I’ll have you home before sunrise. That a deal? No one’ll see you.”
“And if they do?”
“That’s what a shotgun is for. C’mon.” I bend my fingers, motioning her out of the car.
“No shotguns.” Mollie takes my hand. “But I’ll take the early ride home.”
“Consider it done.”
I don’t let go of her hand as we walk up the steps. My heart beats a little harder when Mollie doesn’t let go of mine either.
The door is unlocked. Tonight will be the first time in an age that I’ll bolt it. Don’t want any interruptions.
I open the door for Mollie, and the old floorboards creak as she steps inside the cabin.
“I’m not sure I appreciated how pretty your place was before,” she says, taking in the tiny kitchen to our right and the living room to our left. The front of the cabin is all one big room, the floors, walls, and ceiling crafted of salvaged oak. “You’re an excellent caretaker.”
“Workin’ in the dirt all day, it’s nice to come home to a place that’s clean.” I take off my hat and toss it onto the counter. “What can I get you? A beer? Water? I have tequila too.”
Mollie arches a brow. “What do you make with that tequila?”
“I’m famous for my spicy ranch waters.”
“No, you’re not.”
I laugh, swiping my hand across the counter. “Lemme make you one. I’ll change your mind.”
“Who the hell are you making spicy ranch waters for?”
“They were a favorite of Garrett’s, for starters.”
Mollie’s expression softens. Only it’s not sadness I see in her eyes. It’s more like interest. Curiosity.
She didn’t know her daddy all that well. It hits me that in a way, she’s learning him through me.
Considering Garrett was one of my favorite people, I’m more than happy to teach her.
“I’d love one,” she says. “Thank you.”
I nod at the table and chairs. “Sit. Prepare to be amazed.”
“Can I snoop around instead?” She glances across the cabin. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be invited back.”
“Because you’re a terrible houseguest?” I open the fridge and pull out a bottle of Topo Chico—Mexican sparkling mineral water.
“Because I’m about to break some furniture with you,” she replies with a smirk.
Letting out a bark of laughter, I grab a jalapeño from a bowl on the counter and wash it at the sink. “You’re funny.”
“I know.” She’s in the living room now, looking at my bookshelves. “This is impressive, Cash. I didn’t know you were a reader.”
“Have been my whole life. Guess it’s my way of staying connected to that part of me—the part that likes ideas. Stories.”
She glances at me over her shoulder. “That’s hot.”
“I know.”
Rolling her eyes, she smiles as she moves to the silver picture frames on the mantel. “So you and Dad would drink these spicy ranch waters together?”
“When it was hot like it is now, yeah.” I slice up the jalapeño and put it in a glass, pouring several fingers of tequila over it. I give the slices a quick muddle with the back of a spoon. “At quittin’ time, Garrett would join us at the bunkhouse for beers. It was lonely at his place, you know?”
“I imagine it was, yeah.”
“So one day, we ran out of Shiner Bock. All we had was tequila and Topo Chico, which Patsy buys in bulk. I’d had a ranch water at the rodeo a few times, so I decided to look for some limes and make my own. Your daddy was the one who requested the spicy tequila.”