Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“I was just giving a lesson on milking cows,” I replied as we stepped out of the stall.
“Already?” she said in a flustered tone. “Julian just got here.”
Before I could explain, Julian held up his hands. “Oh, I didn’t mind at all. I actually liked jumping right in.”
“Well, if that’s the case,” she replied with a grin, “you’re more than welcome to help with the goats before breakfast.”
“Perfect,” he said with a gleam of excitement in his eyes before looking back at me. “Thanks again.”
“No problem.” I waved and made my way to the door. “Off to the chickens. See you at breakfast.”
When I glanced back, Hamlet was circling Julian’s legs, along with a couple of goats, and he looked highly amused. It was a good look on him. It softened the lines on his forehead.
And then the morning flew by like it always did as the sun came up. There was always work to do on a farm, and during our birthing season in the spring, it was nonstop action. I let the chickens roam free inside the enclosure while I collected the eggs, making sure to separate a dozen for Marta. I waved to George as he headed to the horse stables, and then I went inside the house to wash up.
Marta had breakfast going, and Ainsley was at the table with one of her word-search books she loved so much. I kissed my daughter’s head as I went by, then greeted Marta with the fresh eggs on my way to my room.
When I returned to the kitchen, Sienna and Julian were digging into pancakes and eggs. Seemed she finished her chores in record time with Julian’s help. He was already proving useful, and given his hearty appetite, it seemed he might’ve agreed.
Julian made a satisfied sound after swallowing a mouthful. “Damn, fresh eggs really are delicious.”
Sienna smiled. “Can’t argue that. Plus, Marta is a fantastic cook.”
“Uh-oh, I better watch my waistline while I’m here,” Julian said, shoveling more in his mouth, and Ainsley snickered. I wanted to say he probably didn’t have anything to worry about there, but I was pretty sure that wouldn’t go over too well.
When Phoebe rubbed against my legs beneath the table, I leaned down to stroke behind her ears, and that was when I spotted Hamlet settled near Julian, hoping for some falling food, no doubt.
“Did you have any pets growing up?” I found myself asking.
“Actually, no.” He frowned, as if regretting it. “Though we did use service dogs to help with explosive detection, and they became like family…” He trailed off, narrowing his eyes, with a faraway look, as if picturing it or maybe somewhat bothered by the image in his head. “And there were strays we fed in the desert. Kinda nice to have them around.”
“They can definitely provide equal parts comfort and comic relief,” Marta said just as Phoebe snorted under the table, and we all laughed. “See what I mean?”
Once we all dug in, the table grew silent until the eggs and pancakes were gone. Then I was clearing dishes and taking them to the sink over Marta’s usual protests.
“I told you, just because you cook for us doesn’t mean we can’t use our manners and clean up after ourselves,” I explained for the hundredth time. Plus, it was teaching Ainsley how to be polite. I didn’t want her to think there were rigid gender roles around here, even though that was hard to shake in our part of the world.
“I’m stuffed,” Julian said, pushing back from the table and taking his plate to the sink. “Thank you, Marta. And your coffee this morning was good too. Mom never likes the strong stuff.”
“You tell your momma that Marta is taking care of you now.”
He smiled. “She’ll like hearing that.”
He seemed to enjoy hearing that sentiment too, given the contentment on his face. Maybe it calmed him to be surrounded by people familiar to him. I hoped he felt welcomed here.
“Ready for that walk to the silos?” Sienna asked, putting away the syrup and other condiments.
Julian glanced out the window at the cloudless sky. It was pleasant now but would become a scorcher today. The more chores done earlier, the better. “Definitely.”
The four of us set out, Ainsley running ahead with the pigs and a couple of stray goats that George rounded up before they wandered too far from the pasture where he’d let them out to graze.
We slowed as we passed the paddock so Ainsley could check in on her mare, who neighed upon seeing her. Ainsley moved closer to the wooden slats so she could poke her hand through and try to entice Piper to the fence. But she was a newer rescue to the farm and still a bit standoffish. She was a buckskin horse with a strip of white along her nose and a steady temperament that seemed to calm Ainsley whenever she was near. She would also be the perfect size for her to ride, though Ainsley was only just working up to it. Her last horse had remained at the ranch due to her old age and had to be euthanized last year when a rupture in her intestines got the best of her.