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 nodded. “Sounds like you’re doing your own thing and love it.”
“I do,” she replied as we passed the sprawling Carmichael Ranch, which was probably around a thousand acres, given the fact that we hadn’t reached their end of the property line yet. “We brought our horses from the ranch, and since then we’ve rescued a couple too.”
“Sounds awesome.”
We turned into Firefly Farm, which had a completely different vibe than the Carmichael Ranch. Sienna’s personal touches were evident, starting with the quaint signpost pointing us in the direction of the first barn and the farmhouse beyond. It felt so comfortable and homey, yet still so foreign, and the idea that I would be spending the summer here seemed unreal. Would I actually enjoy it, or would it be too much, but in a different way from the city?
At least the walls wouldn’t feel like they were closing in on me—not yet.
“Here we are.” She pulled in front of the farmhouse. “We can show you our ideas later. Let’s get you settled first.”
“Sounds good.” I grabbed my bag and turned toward the house, immediately spotting Kerry and Ainsley on the wide veranda-style porch. Beside them, waiting to greet us, were an older man I didn’t recognize, a woman who seemed familiar, and a couple of miniature pigs.
I suddenly felt warm under the collar for reasons I couldn’t readily explain, except I hadn’t seen Kerry in a long time, and under his scrutiny, I couldn’t help wondering what he saw. Did he see a broken soldier, or that gangly teen from years past? Or, hell, I didn’t know—but why did it matter?
He’d always been the strong and silent type, and I was only just remembering how unnerving it could feel. Today, however, I detected some humility in his gaze. He’d been through so much since the last time I saw him—they all had—yet he still stood straight and tall, seeming sure of himself, which was pretty admirable.
As I approached the stairs, Kerry stepped forward with an outstretched hand. “Nice havin’ you out here. It’s been a minute,” he said with a slight drawl. Wyoming natives didn’t have so much of an accent as they just dropped their g’s in certain words. Dad would make fun of Mom for it over the years, but Caitlin and I barely noticed it, unless we paid close attention and joined in on the razzing.
“About six minutes, maybe more,” I replied, thinking about the last time I’d seen him, and realized that was at Dad’s funeral. I’d been just a kid, barely out of high school. Damn. Kerry was only five years older than me, but he always had a more mature air to him, or maybe a quiet reserve, like he was always thinking about something. But here on his own property, he looked good, content, like this kind of life suited him. And that helped me push aside the questions I had about him. About the two of them, really, because for being a divorced couple, they seemed to be getting along just fine. So maybe they’d been able to put the past behind them.
“Suppose I should say thanks for your service, Private North.”
“Specialist North, actually,” I replied, reaching for his hand, and that was when I remembered how attractive I’d always found Kerry—and still did. Tight jeans, chest-hugging tee, impressive biceps, scruff, and cowboy hat. Damn. He’s still family, even though he hurt your cousin. It was okay to notice, though; anyone who had eyes in their head would.
“Impressive,” he replied, then winced. “Sorry I got it wrong.”
“Nah, no worries.” It really only mattered to my team, and I’d likely been on my way to officer, had I not almost gotten blown up.
Sienna nudged me toward the top step, introducing me to their housekeeper, Marta, who was probably in her fifties and had a motherly air, and George, the burly farmhand with the weathered palms and tan face. This might’ve been a smaller farm, but it still required plenty of hands to make all the moving pieces work. I knew that much at least.
I turned to get a good look at my little cousin, who had to be nine years old now. “Ainsley is so big. She was a toddler the last time I saw her.”
That had been at my father’s funeral, and though I viewed their family photos on social media, seeing her in person after she’d experienced such a traumatic event in her life made affection lace through my chest along with a tinge of melancholy.
When she buried her face into her father’s back and he reached around to draw her away from his body, I wondered if she had become shyer over the years. I used to dread when my parents urged me to greet strangers, and for Ainsley, I was just that—a stranger who happened to be family as well. So I cut her some slack for looking like a deer caught in headlights, and no way was this the time to ask for a hug or even a fist bump. Kerry whispered something in her ear, and she nodded, finally looking up to meet my gaze. There was wariness in her eyes, so I did the only thing I could think of in the moment.