Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“So it's not something you picked up at home then? I wondered if maybe your momma was good in the kitchen with skills like that.”
Taylor shrugs but remains tight-lipped. This is proving harder than I thought. Maybe it's because I shut her down at the shelter. Maybe I made her wary. Shit. Jesse should have asked Maverick to play detective. He'd win her over with just one smile.
I clear my throat. “My parents never cooked much fancy stuff. It was always basic stuff, you know.” I offer this insight, hoping it will inspire her to open up. Even mentioning my family is like a knife to the back. After what happened, they turned their backs on me so easily it was like someone tore a rug out from under me. It wasn't anything I didn't deserve, though.
She nods but doesn't volunteer any information or ask me any questions.
She strokes Taffy, her fingers wary and gentle. “He'll get used to that affection. You'll have a friend for life.”
“I love animals,” she says. “I always wanted a dog. Or a cat. Even a fish… but my dad, well—”
I don't reply because I know I've hit on something delicate. I want to leave her to fill the silence. She seems to be weighing up how to continue what she's started but thinks better of it. When she's been quiet for over a minute, I jump in again.
“I got a puppy on my tenth birthday and called him Mutt.”
“Was that what inspired you to want to become a vet?”
“Maybe. I used to like taking care of him. He got a thorn in his paw once. Took it out with tweezers. My first surgery.”
Taylor turns to gaze at the meadow to our left, which is alive with flowers.
“They're early this year. The weather's been warm.”
“They're beautiful, especially the two-tone ones. They're so perfect. I wish I could take some pictures.”
I take a chance. “Bring your phone next time. You've got a phone, don't you?”
Taylor hesitates, but there's something about being close but not looking into each other's eyes that makes it easier to talk.
“Yeah.”
“You called your family yet?”
Her shoulders stiffen, and Taffy raises his head as though she has squeezed him with her legs. He’s picking up on her tension, so I pat his haunches for reassurance.
“My friend Natalie called me. My little sister, Molly, is with my dad and will be missing me. I called Natalie to see if she's seen her, but she hasn't.” Her voice tapers off, her worry palpable.
“Why don't you just call your dad? Or your sister?”
Before she can answer, Sadie's two calves appear, alerted by our approach.
“Look,” I whisper loudly and point in case she hasn't noticed. She swivels her head and gasps with excitement. “Sadie's babies.”
“Will she be ready soon?”
“I hope so.”
We walk on, but Taylor doesn't return to our conversation, and the moment has passed where it was natural to ask more about her dad and sister. She didn't mention her mom or nanna from the photo. I know from experience that secrets are sometimes best buried so deep that no one will ever find them. If she wants to tell me about her life, that's up to her, but I'm not going to push, just encourage. If Jesse wants to know more, he'll have to be the one to dig.
As we make our way over to where the others have dismounted, Taylor keeps her gaze ahead. Her neck has already gone pink in the sun, and her freckles are more intense. Maverick and Clint have hitched Bristol and Marv up to the shadiest post and are enjoying a long drink of cool water. Taylor's eyes linger on the scene as both men lose their shirts. I'm used to the sight, but it's new to Taylor. She stiffens between my legs, the work-toughened bodies of my friends having some kind of effect. I dismount first and hold out my hand for Taylor, then lead Taffy over to the other horses. When I strip my own shirt, Taylor's attention drifts to me, eyes stroking over my skin like fingers.
“You did well, Tay, for your first time on a horse, even with Clint for support.” Maverick rubs his spread palm over the full length of his abs and pecs, preening in front of Taylor. He removes his hat and tips water over his head, pushing it through his hair and swiping it over his body.
“This isn't a strip show,” Jesse grumbles. It isn't something I'd do, but in this heat, the water sure looks good.
Taylor loosens her buttons, revealing a flash of white flesh and the bulge of her cleavage, which I try to tear my eyes away from. She fans her hand to create a breeze, and when she catches me looking, there's a flicker of heat in her eyes, the same as last night. She unhitches the food basket and places it in the shade. “I don't know how long it will be until it spoils.” She sounds concerned, but Jesse assures her we can eat early to keep our energy up.