Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
When we get close to the fence to my old land, I catch Scott watching me out of the corner of his eye.
He keeps going, but I pause, pulling the reins so that Little Lady stops, and sliding from her back. From here, I can see my old home, Cooper's Cottage. It's far in the distance, the broad sweeping field stretching out between us. I used to run here while my pa was checking and repairing the boundary fences. I would always feel more comfortable if I could still see the house. It was like my anchor in the world, and even though I haven't been there for weeks, and even though I don't own it anymore, I still feel as though I'm tethered to that place.
Scott hears when Lady's feet are quiet, and he pauses, forcing his horse to turn. I can feel his eyes on the side of my face as I gaze into the distance. His attention seems cold but interested. "The fences will come down soon," he says. "Then you'll be able to ride right across this land."
"Cash says you're too busy to expand."
He makes a scoffing sound. "Cash says a lot of stupid things. He's not always brave enough to push forward when the world is pushing back."
I swivel, taking in the majestic sight of him high on his horse, the land and sky stretching behind him until they kiss in the middle. The horse, who is named Midnight, shifts on its hooves, and Scott responds with his own body. It's a beautiful thing when a cowboy becomes one with an animal this way. There's a connection that fills me with a strange sense of awe.
"I can see my home," I say, not caring that my voice is wistful and breathy. Not caring that he might see my continuing connection to my old home as weak. I'm more connected to this land than he is. The dust here blew across me when my momma brought me home from the hospital. It touched me when I was new to the world. Maybe that's why Scott can be so calculating about ranch business, where for me, everything seems tinged with a deep connection.
"Your home is with us now."
I blink, stunned by his matter-of-fact tone. Is my home with them? I'm an employee, not a family member. Doesn't he understand the difference? Before I can think of a reply, he turns and begins to trot away.
Shaking my head, I run my fingers over Lady's nose. "He's a tricky one," I tell her. "One minute he's acting like I smell bad, the next like I should be thinking of his house as my home. He blows hot and cold like the desert wind." Lady snorts as though she agrees with me about Scott's contrariness, and she sways her head to look at his retreating form. "Yeah. I guess we need to follow him," I tell her.
When I'm back in the saddle, we have a way to go to catch up, but I don't rush. If Scott wanted me to ride next to him, he'd have waited for me. To be honest, his continued frostiness is a relief. He's the main obstruction to Cash pushing forward with the whole polyamory thing, and I'm not ready to have conversations about that. I'm not ready to resist all of the Bradfords if they turn their real attentions on me. I'm just about dealing with keeping Cash at first base.
When Cash kisses my neck, I wish my clothes would just melt off my body, but thankfully, my wishes aren't often answered. Keeping fully dressed is the most sensible thing right now. I bet momma is looking down at me, feeling proud. That is, providing she doesn't know what's in my mind and heart. If those in heaven can see all of that, well, she'd be disappointed as hell.
Scott disappears into the stables, and I make it through the open door a minute or so after. He's already dismounted, and Midnight is having a drink. It's hot, and my hat feels like it's sticking to my forehead. Scott must be feeling the same discomfort because he lifts his and runs his hands over his closely cropped hair. I'm so drawn to his casual movements, my eyes magnetized to his big hands and the relief in his face to feel the cool air over his scalp. They're drawn to his thick work-built arms and the roundness of his pecs. He's a little bigger than Cash, and that is saying something. Bigger and more dangerous, although I feel ridiculous for thinking it.
That romance novel has filled my head with nonsense. Scott is just an ordinary man with emotional baggage, I tell myself. But there is still a part of me that can imagine him crushing a man's skull with those thick fingers. And a bigger part that wants to know what it would feel like for him to stuff those fingers inside me.