Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 17853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
“I think you’re more than capable,” I reply as I slip a shirt on. The first of a few layers. “But you don’t have the right clothes to simply walk to the barn from here.”
“I can borrow your clothes,” she insists.
“Honey, you swim in my clothes.”
“But I’ll be warm.” She flashes me a wide smile. “I can do this. I want to help.”
“Okay.” I sigh and pull another layer of clothing over my head, then root around and find some things for Joy, then pass them to her. “I want you good and bundled up. It’s damn cold out there, the wind is blowing, and it’s dark. You stay with me. I don’t need you getting lost and freezing to death.”
“Trust me, I won’t let you out of my sight.”
We hurry to dress, and then I push a thick hat that my mom knitted an eon ago on Joy’s head.
“Let’s get this over with,” I mutter as I lead her to the door.
“Are you nervous?” she asks with surprise.
“I’m happy to show you the ranch, but this isn’t what this is. You won’t be able to see much of anything, and I want to quickly get through the chores so we can get back here and warm up.”
“I understand,” she says with a solemn nod. “I won’t get in your way, but I’m an extra pair of hands to help where you need me.”
“Follow me. The barn is about fifty yards away. Just walk in my footsteps. Yell out to me if you get stuck, or if you want to come back to the cabin.”
“Okay. I will.”
I set off, always mindful of where Joy is and how she’s doing behind me. So far, she’s keeping up, and we’re more than halfway to the barn.
Once inside the barn, we stomp the snow off of our boots, and I pull my winter gloves off to replace them with work gloves. I’m relieved to see that one of my ranch hands has already been out here and fired up the electric heaters to warm the place up.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” she assures me. “I might not have grown up on a ranch, but I did grow up in Montana. This is just winter, John. Tell me what you need from me.”
She makes a good point.
“I have a pregnant mare in that stall there. I want to check on her to make sure she’s not in labor. In the stall across from her is another mare with a filly. We need to check on them, as well.”
I run through a few more chores with her, and without a word of complaint or hesitation, Joy dives in, not at all intimidated to get her hands dirty and work right alongside me.
It’s both surprising and sexy. I’ve never considered the fact that I might find a woman who would want to take on the responsibilities of the ranch with me.
My mom was never one to get out with the horses and cows. She kept the house, cooked, and took care of us kids.
She didn’t want to have anything to do with the animals.
But Joy just walks right into that pregnant mare’s stall as if she does it every single day, speaks to the horse soothingly and lovingly, and pats her side as she walks around her.
“No labor over here,” she announces calmly. “And you’re absolutely beautiful, aren’t you? Yes, you are.”
Joy walks out of the stall and frowns at me. “These are late babies, aren’t they? Don’t they usually give birth by September—October at the latest?”
“They were both surprise pregnancies,” I reply. “You’re right, it’s unusual. I’m almost done here.”
“No rush. It’s warm in here.” She sits on a bucket that’s turned upside down so she can watch me finish up.
“Have you ever been in a barn before?”
“No.”
I stop and stare at her, shocked. She looked so natural with the horses. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. First time. I did ride a horse once, as a kid, but that was at a birthday party, so it’s not like we were allowed into the barn to look around.”
“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
CHAPTER 8
JOY
“Holy shit, it’s cold outside,” I declare as John shuts the door of his cabin behind us. “What did the thermometer say out there?”
“Ten below zero,” he replies as he hangs our gloves on a rack by the fire, and sets our boots near it, as well. “It’s not as cold as it could be, but it’s pretty chilly. I’ll stoke the fire some more.”
I don’t feel shy at all about grabbing the quilt off the back of his couch and wrapping it around me as I huddle in the corner of the sofa.
“I was fine on the way out there,” I say, willing my teeth to stop chattering. “But on the way back, it was a different story.”