Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Cassidy: You’re overthinking it. Hudson won’t let you die. He’d probably throw himself off the horse first to protect you.
Molly: That’s not helpful, Cass.
Josie: Seriously, though, you’ve got this. Just hang on, let Hudson teach you, and try not to die.
Molly: JOSIE.
Cassidy: And trust the horse. Horses know things.
Molly: What does THAT even mean?!
Cassidy: I don’t know. It sounded wise.
Josie: If Hudson annoys you tomorrow, just “accidentally” steer your horse into his.
Cassidy: I second this plan.
Molly: I’m deleting this chat in case it gets SUBPOENAED.
Cassidy: So you’re contemplating it . . .
Molly: Shut up.
Josie: You’ll be fine. And if not, at least we’ll get hilarious pictures from it.
Molly: 😑 You guys are the worst.
Cassidy: Love you! Don’t die tomorrow.
Josie: Hudson better not let you fall. Tell him we’ll come for him if he does.
Molly: Noted.
Cassidy: PS Don’t forget to send the pics.
77
Hudson
As cliché as it sounds, there really is no fucking place like home.
I love being here.
Whenever I’m in Redville, I get lost in the frenzy of my life, and it’s easy to forget this place.
This feeling.
My life is always so crazy that I can barely remember my own name, let alone anything else.
But the moment I walk back onto this property, the feeling of comfort that only this place can bring comes rushing back.
That’s one of the reasons I want to help my parents so badly.
Sure, it’s because I know that they need help, but a part of me, a bigger part than I want to admit, wants to help for selfish reasons.
Knowing that no matter how crazy my life gets, I’ll always have the farm, has me desperate to help.
This place is such a huge part of my life. I don’t want them to lose it. Why do they have to be so stubborn?
I’m practically begging them to take my money, but . . . no. They won’t have it.
It’s frustrating as all fuck.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply.
The smell of the barn hits my nostrils. To be specific, it’s the fragrance of hay. This place always grounds me and reminds me how simple life can be.
Sure, I love being on the ice, and the rush of skating, but the farm brings a level of calm I can’t get anywhere else.
But today isn’t about me. It’s about Molly.
And trying to help her see there is more to life than being afraid.
Behind me, I hear her boots crunching against the dirt.
She’s almost to where I’m standing beside Gracie, our gentlest horse. Which makes her perfect for the task at hand.
She’s steady and calm and exactly what Molly needs right now.
Shit, I just hope this goes well.
It should, though.
After the way she opened on the ice, I have a feeling like this will be the same.
There is also an ulterior motive for wanting her to do this.
I want her to love the farm.
I want her to see that she belongs here, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
“This is Gracie.” I run my hand over the horse’s smooth coat.
Gracie leans into my touch. “She’s the best. And even better, she’s perfect for you.”
Molly stops a few feet away, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. Her fingers grip her jacket.
She’s hesitant.
She’s nervous.
Of course, she is.
Don’t push her, Hudson.
She’s not sold.
That’s fine. She will be soon.
Gracie is a large horse, so I can understand being unsure, but she’s by far the gentlest horse I’ve ever known.
“I don’t know about this,” she admits.
I move closer to her. “You don’t have to ride her.” I keep my tone easy. “We can just hang out here. We can just feed her carrots.”
Telling her this is a calculated move. I know she will ride her, but I also know she needs to know she has a way out. Just in case.
This will give her the control she craves.
Molly shifts her weight, glancing back at Gracie.
I think she’s going to say forget it. Which is fine.
But then she squares her shoulders and straightens her spine, and I know she’s ready. Good girl. Be as strong as I know you can be.
I keep my exterior expressionless. I don’t want to piss her off. That won’t bode well for my plan. Molly is liable to say “fuck it” and leave if I do that.
“Fine, I’ll at least feed her.” Her voice is still quiet, but her determination is peeking out.
I can’t help but smile.
There it is.
That spark.
She’s amazing, and the crazy part is she doesn’t see it.
She will.
I’ll make her.
“All right,” I say, keeping my tone warm. “Let’s take it slow.”
I grab a carrot from the nearby bucket and hold it out to her. “Hold it flat in your palm like this,” I say, demonstrating.
Her fingers brush mine as she takes the carrot, and for a second, that tiny touch sends a flicker of warmth through me.
Focus, man. This is about her, not you.