Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I can’t seem to quiet the buzz beneath my skin, and the thing is, I don’t want to. It feels too good.
I’ve even been making more progress with Storm lately, like the mustang is finally opening up on a new level and seeing that he can really trust me. He’s allowed me to saddle him—not for a long stretch of time, but having something on his back is new to him and takes a while to get used to.
The only thing that could make my situation better is if Sully came out and claimed me as his, and if Randy got his shit together. I don’t care as much for me. I can deal with Randy’s behavior—the stares, the snide comments and his general anger, especially when he’s in the paddock, trying to make headway with the horses, and I come around. Now that I know more about the situation, I want to encourage him, but he doesn’t take too kindly to it.
I can’t help worrying about Pixie. She’s a perceptive little thing, and I think she senses her dad’s anger toward me. I know all she wants is for him to pay more attention to her, to be there, and that above all, she worries about him. I spent years of my life fretting over my dad, feeling responsible for things I shouldn’t feel responsible for, and also living with that obligation to defend him, to stick by him, even when I knew things he did were wrong. It’s taken me a long time to be able to admit that, but I’m in the place now where I can.
That doesn’t mean he wasn’t right about other things. That’s the reality of being human—we get some things right and some wrong.
“You know I’m gonna ride you today,” I tell Storm, watching him in the paddock and trying to stop myself from obsessing over Bishop Sullivan.
He gives me a nicker, so I take a couple of steps closer. I’ve been sitting out here with him for an hour, just talking. I don’t know if that does any good, but I feel like it strengthens our connection, helps us understand each other better. He’s the easiest person to talk to other than Sully, and would ya look at that, here I am, thinking about him again.
Storm nudges his nose against my shoulder, something he’s been doing more of. I stroke his neck, lean in, and nuzzle him. “What do you think? Can we do this? I’m trying to impress a guy. You letting me ride you would make me look real good.”
Jesus, I’m an idiot, and so glad no one can hear me talking but Storm. I don’t feel like myself lately, and that’s scary but also exciting, like somehow in these nights with Sully and the days on the ranch, the chains I’ve kept around myself have started to loosen.
“Come on. Let’s go.” I gently urge Storm to the fence, where a saddle hangs over it, along with other supplies.
Storm comes easily, so apparently, he’s in a good mood today. He’s a finicky little bastard like me. I take a brush from the bucket and use that on him first. When I put the saddle bag over him, he gives me a look that says he’s not sure he likes where this is heading, but he lets me.
When I put the saddle on, he gives me a snort. “It’s okay, boy. Me and you are buddies, remember? We got this.” I slow down a bit to give him some more love, then tighten the saddle and adjust the bridle.
The last thing I want to do is rush, so I linger a bit, let him get used to it, while I talk to him and pet him. “Let me ride you, Storm,” I say softly. His nose nudges my neck, making an electric current zip through me. It’s like I can hear him say yes, feel him give me permission for the two of us to break down these walls together.
“That’s a good boy.” Using the fence, I heft myself into the saddle. Storm’s head jerks around some, feet stomping. “It’s okay. We got this. It’s just me.” My hand strokes back and forth along his neck, and he begins to settle down.
It feels like I wait a damn eternity before guiding him along with the reins, getting him to move. He doesn’t go where I want him to, but he does walk, and I just let him, let Storm go at his pace while my heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest. Pride swells inside me the more he moves along with me, trusting me in this way I know is so hard for him.
“I get it. It’s hard for me to trust too. I was just as skittish with Sully…but it’s not so bad, is it?”