Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“I understand, just know you’re welcome here,” my mother said with a small pout. “He’s in the barn. You might as well get it over with.”
My heart pounded, and I felt an instant rush of heat move across my body. I was taken back to the days when I was a little boy about to get into trouble. Only this time, I hadn’t forgotten to feed the dogs or left the hose running in the trough. I’d simply walked away from the future he had envisioned for me. For us. I had disappointed him with my own dreams and passions.
As I walked around my mother and headed toward the back door, she took my hand.
“Anson, as much as he denies it, he is proud of you. I need you to know that.”
I felt myself frown. “Has he ever told you that?”
She looked away briefly before smiling at me. “No. But he doesn’t have to. You don’t stay married to a man that stubborn after all these years and not know every word that he desperately wants to say.”
With a nod, I made my way out the back door. My father’s ranch had two barns. This one—which was close to the house—was the one where all the animals stayed. Another one sat on the other side of the ranch. It wasn’t used for livestock, only to store hay. At least, that was how it had been six years ago. I heard a whinny and looked to my left to see someone riding up on a horse. He was my age, maybe a few years younger.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
I wanted to laugh. He had no idea who I was.
“No, thanks,” I said as I made my way toward the barn, ignoring that the asshole was on my horse, George.
“Sir, may I ask who you are and what you’re doing here? If you’re looking for Mr. Myers, you’ll need to make an appointment.”
Stopping, I turned to him. “Who are you?”
He looked taken aback. “Who am I?” he asked with a humorless laugh.
I only nodded. He gave me a once-over.
“Nick.”
“Well, Nick. I appreciate the heads up, but I don’t even think an appointment would make my father want to see me.”
His eyes went wide for a quick moment. “Anson?”
I tipped my cowboy hat to him and started back to the barn.
There was something about this Nick guy I immediately didn’t like. And it probably had everything to do with the fact that the prick was on my fucking horse and was strutting around here like he owned the damn place.
I turned around and said, “That’s my horse. So if you don’t mind.”
A slow smirk moved across his face. “Are you going to call dibs on Bristol like that as well? Heard you broke up her dinner date.”
That made me stop in my tracks. “What did you say?”
He laughed and then kicked George on his side. He galloped by and headed to the barn.
“Fucking dick,” I said as I picked up my pace.
When I walked into the barn, I saw my father mucking out one of the stalls.
I moved closer and was about to say something when he spoke first.
“Why don’t you start on that stall there.”
I smiled. If he thought mucking out a stall was going to piss me off, he was entirely wrong.
I grabbed a rake and got to work. We worked in silence for a while until Prick Face walked into the barn.
“Mr. Meyer, the north fence needs mending. I can get to it tomorrow afternoon.”
“I’ll fix it,” I said before my father could say anything. I could feel his eyes on me, though.
“You heard my son, Nick. He’ll fix it.”
Nick nodded then gave me a smile. “Do you need me to show you where everything is?”
I wiped the sweat off my brow and stared at him. Then looked at my father. “Everything still in the same place?”
He nodded.
“Guess that’s your answer.”
It was Nick’s turn to tip his hat to me. He spun and walked out of the barn.
“He’s a good kid. Works hard for me and is in charge when I’m not around.”
That made me snap my head over to my father. He grinned. “I trust him. I hired him when he was only sixteen. He just turned twenty-one and has proven himself time and time again.”
That was my father’s way of saying he hadn’t been able to trust me. I went back to spreading out the new hay, lost in my own thoughts. When I finished, I looked up to see my father was gone.
“Fuck,” I whispered as I closed up the stall and put everything away. I started back to the house and saw my father sitting on the fence watching a foal running in a pen as her mother grazed on hay.
I made my way over and leaned against the fence.