Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Inside the stall, the mare is restless, her sides heaving. I move carefully, murmuring soothing words as I check her over. Layla hangs back at first, but when I glance over my shoulder, she steps closer.
“What do you need me to do?” she asks, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.
I hand her a clean towel, meeting her gaze. “Just stay calm. She’ll pick up on it if you’re nervous.”
Layla nods, and to her credit, she does exactly as I say. Together, we guide the mare through the delivery, our hands brushing more than once as we work. Each touch sends a jolt through me, but I shove it down, focusing on the task at hand.
When the foal finally arrives—a healthy colt—I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Layla’s face lights up with awe as the tiny creature struggles to its feet, and Carson cheers from behind the stall door.
“What should we name him?” Layla asks, looking down at Carson.
The boy’s face scrunches in concentration before a grin breaks through. “Cupid!” he announces. “Because Valentine’s Day!”
Layla laughs, ruffling his hair. “Cupid it is.”
I watch them, something warm and unfamiliar settling in my chest. Layla catches my eye, her smile softening. “You’re good at this,” she says quietly.
“At what?”
“Everything,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “The ranch, the horses, Carson… this life.”
Her words hit me harder than I expect, and for a moment, I don’t know how to respond. So I just nod, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. She doesn’t pull away, and the space between us feels smaller than ever.
“Come on,” I say finally, my voice rough. “Let’s get Cupid and his mama settled.”
Layla smiles, but there’s something in her eyes—something that tells me this moment isn’t just about the foal. It’s about us, too, and whatever the hell we’re building here on this ranch. For the first time, I think maybe—just maybe—it’s something real.
Chapter Nine
Layla
The scent of syrup and freshly brewed coffee fills the diner, mingling with the low hum of morning chatter and clinking silverware. Carson sits across from me, his face smeared with powdered sugar as he gleefully digs into a stack of Valentine’s Day pancakes topped with pink frosting and sprinkles. His laughter is a balm to my frayed nerves, and I force a smile, hoping it’ll mask the tension simmering in my chest.
“You like those, buddy?” I ask, tapping the edge of my coffee mug against the table.
Carson grins, a sprinkle stuck to his cheek. “These are the best pancakes ever, Mommy Layla!”
My heart clenches at his innocent declaration. He’s been calling me that more often, and every time he does, it feels like a secret wish granted. But today, the warmth it brings is overshadowed by the waitress’s voice drifting from the counter behind me.
“Yeah, a couple of guys were in here yesterday asking about a woman named Lisa. Seemed pretty serious, too. Dressed all sharp, like city men.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Lisa. My real name. I grip the handle of the mug tighter, my stomach flipping. They’ve found me. I’ve only been here a few weeks and already I’ve been found. How?
“Mommy Layla? Are you okay?” Carson’s small voice breaks through the panic clawing at me. He’s watching me with wide, curious eyes, his fork paused mid-air.
I plaster on a smile. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a little tired, that’s all.”
He nods, satisfied, and returns to his pancakes, but my mind is racing. I glance over my shoulder at the waitress, trying to gauge if she noticed me stiffen. She doesn’t seem to. She’s busy pouring coffee for a trucker at the counter, her back to me.
I debate what to do, my hands trembling under the table. Should I run? Leave this new life I’m building behind before it’s ripped away from me? The thought of abandoning Carson and Cal cuts deep, the ache settling in my chest like a weight. They’ve become my everything in such a short time, and the idea of walking away feels unbearable. And I promised Cal I wouldn’t. Walking away now would break me. But what else am I supposed to do?
If I stay, I’ll be putting them in danger. I’ve been lying to Cal since the day I arrived. He doesn’t know the full extent of what I left behind—the power my father wields, the connections my ex-fiancé has, and the lengths they’ll go to bring me back.
I swallow hard, fighting back tears as Carson shoves the last bite of pancake into his mouth and grins at me, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing inside me.
That evening, the ranch house is unusually quiet. Cal moves through the kitchen with his usual deliberate efficiency, fixing dinner while Duke lounges by the fireplace. Carson is playing with his toy horses in the living room, his little voice narrating their adventures.