Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
He dug Chad’s card out of the pocket of the shirt he’d worn last night and punched the number into his cell.
“Hey Cutter, it’s Sherman,” Pike said when the other man answered on the first ring. “I was wondering if you’d be up for that beer. I could use a couple before I head to my parents’ house for dinner tonight.”
“Sure thing, just a second.” Chad conferred with someone in the background before getting back on the line. “My secretary says I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes, but it won’t take long. Just have to tell this woman she’s not getting any more easy money and I’ll be free for the afternoon. Want to swing by the office and I can show you around before we hit the Blue Saloon’s happy hour? I’m on Main, next to the old theater.”
“Sounds good. See you in a few.” Pike hung up and grabbed his black Stetson from the bureau, settling it on his head before moving quietly down the stairs. He waved to Mia, who was busy with a gaggle of women loudly discussing the evils of the underwire bra, and escaped out the front door of the lingerie shop before he could attract attention.
Outside, the bright summer day made him grateful he’d remembered his hat. He rarely wore a cowboy hat when he wasn’t at the ranch, but it felt good to have protection from the glaring sun, as well as the citizens of Lonesome Point. On the whole, the people in his hometown had been respectful of his privacy the few times he’d returned home, but a near mobbing at a Halloween carnival a few years back had made him wary. He usually kept his hat pulled low and his eyes on the sidewalk when he went outside, making it clear he wasn’t looking for attention, but today he couldn’t resist looking around.
Main Street had undergone a facelift in the past few years and was starting to look more like something out of Disneyland rather than the well-worn town of his childhood years. The old west style buildings had been refurbished and repainted, antique gas lights lined the street, and horse hitches graced the front of several buildings, giving the people who organized historic trail rides a place to tie their horses when they ended their tours. His grandmother’s restored ghost town was bringing in more visitors than ever before and the city council expected tourism to double after the newly renovated portion of Old Town opened next summer.
Lonesome Point was experiencing a second heyday, but even if it weren’t, the rest of his family would never consider living anywhere else. This town was in their blood. Pike was the only Sherman in eight generations to buy a home outside of southwest Texas. Maybe if he and his dad had been able to get along, things would have been different, but they hadn’t, and Pike was happy on his Montana ranch.
This town was where he’d grown up, but it wasn’t home anymore. His home was in the Bitterroot Mountains, where there was nothing but land and sky for miles and he could always hear himself think. He’d been in Palm Springs with Bella before the wedding, but he was going home when the week was through to enjoy a few cool, Montana mornings before, hopefully, rejoining the season already in progress.
His thoughts were still on blue sky and the sound of the wind through the pine trees on his four hundred acres when he ducked inside the Head Starts office to hear a familiar voice coming from behind the cracked office door to his left.
“Respectfully, Chad, I have to disagree. This program isn’t new age fluff. I’ve seen autistic kids transformed by equine therapy.”
The tone was firmer than anything Pike had ever heard out of Tulsi’s mouth, but there was no doubt the voice belonged to his ex. For a second he considered easing back through the door and waiting for Chad outside, but the secretary at the front desk had spotted him and was motioning for him to take a seat in an overstuffed armchair in the waiting room near the fish tank.
Pike slid into the chair and reached for a magazine to distract himself, but it was virtually impossible not to eavesdrop.
“This is real medicine,” Tulsi continued. “And a powerful healing tool for children who haven’t responded to traditional methods.”
“Listen, Tulsi,” Chad said in a condescending tone very different from the friendly one he’d used with Pike. “I understand this is your livelihood and you’ll be out of a job if you can’t find someone to pay you to work with these kids for free, but—”
“This isn’t about me,” Tulsi said, voice trembling as she cut him off. “This is about giving hope to children who have spent their lives suffering. This is about giving victims of abuse and kids who feel powerless in their own lives a way to experience control, responsibility, and the capacity to nurture another creature when—”