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)
When she mimics my gesture, I guide her hand toward Gracie’s mouth.
Gracie takes the carrot gently from Molly’s palm. Thank fuck too. One never knows how Gracie will react if she’s hungry. While she would never hurt anyone, she gets pretty excited to eat. She’s liable to snatch the carrot the way a hungry child might grab a candy bar at a chocolate shop.
“See? She likes you,” I tell her.
“Well, I don’t know if I like her yet,” Molly mutters. “Not enough to ride her.”
I narrow my eyes and tilt my head down. “Hex . . .”
“Saying my nickname won’t get me on the horse any faster.” She presses her lips into a thin line. She’s not pissed, though, just pretending to be.
That’s the Hex I know.
“Gracie,” I correct.
“What?”
“The horse has a name. It’s Gracie.”
Molly rolls her eyes. “Have I ever mentioned you’re insufferable?”
“Only every day since we’ve met.”
“Well, you are.”
“Enough stalling.”
She crosses her arms at her chest. Defiant as always. “I’m not stalling.”
“Sure you are.”
“You ever think maybe I have no interest in riding a horse?”
“No.”
“Wow.”
“I think you’re scared. And that’s okay, but I’m here to tell you—you have no reason to be scared. Fear is just a lie we tell ourselves until we find the courage to rewrite the story.
“Now that we have that settled, let’s start with getting you on her back, and we’ll go from there,” I say, grabbing the mounting block and setting it beside Gracie. I turn to her, extending my hand. “Come here.”
She hesitates, staring at my hand and then at Gracie.
Molly trembles slightly, but she still places her hand in mine.
She trusts me.
Don’t screw this up.
I’m not sure why she’s the way she is or what causes her panic, but I can tell that this moment is important.
For her.
For me.
“All right,” I say, positioning myself beside her. My hands move to her waist, steady and deliberate. “I’ll lift you. Just hold on to the saddle.”
Before she can second-guess herself, I lift her, settling her onto Gracie’s back.
She grabs the saddle horn tightly; her knuckles are so white I’m almost afraid she’ll break something.
“Relax.” I keep one hand on her leg. “I’ve got you.”
She takes a shaky breath, and I see her grip loosen just a little.
“Perfect. You’re doing amazing. Much better than I did my first time.”
She looks at me over her shoulder, her brows furrowed. She clearly doesn’t believe me. I’m not lying. It’s true. “Please. You expect me to believe that?”
“Yep.” I grin. “Believe it or not, the first time I got on a horse, I fell off . . . twice.”
That earns me a reluctant smile, and something in my chest eases.
There it is.
A real smile.
“Okay,” she says, her voice quieter now but steadier. “What’s next?”
I grin. I love seeing her like this. “Next, we take a little walk. You ready?”
She nods, her hands tightening again.
As I lead Gracie out, I hold Molly tight. “Now close your eyes.”
“What?” Her voice is full of shock.
I move my head so my lips are at her ear.
“Trust me, Molly. Believe I’ll never let anything hurt you.”
As her muscles loosen, I can feel that she is giving me her trust.
The feeling is unlike anything I have ever felt before.
78
Hudson
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know something is wrong the moment I spot Anna when I enter the barn.
I came out here to grab the jacket I had left, but now it seems my trip will be for a different purpose.
To talk to my baby sister.
We aren’t that close, but I’d still do anything for her.
I step closer to where she is, and she must hear me because she looks up from where she’s sitting on an overturned bucket. Her arms hug her knees.
Her long hair spills down one shoulder, hiding part of her face, but I don’t need to see it to know she’s upset.
Anna’s never been good at hiding how she feels. Especially not from me.
“Surprised to see you here.”
“Why?” Her nose crinkles.
“You hate the smell of hay.”
“Maybe I’m getting used to it.”
“Doubtful.” I step closer inside. “People don’t just start to like the smell.”
A beat passes, and Anna doesn’t argue.
Yep.
She’s not okay.
I drop down onto the ground right in front of her. “What’s going on, Annie?”
She shrugs. “Nothing. Just . . . thinking.”
“Well, that’s not good. We try never to do that. It’s against the family motto, after all.”
Her lips twitch. Almost a smile. I’ll take it. “Hudson, I’m fine.”
“I’m calling bullshit. You’re sitting alone in a barn. Which is legit the last place you would ever voluntarily be. So, yeah, I’m not buying it.”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, silence stretches between us.
“Please, Anna, talk to me.” I drop my voice, hoping she hears my sincerity.
She lets out a sigh before finally lifting her head so that our gazes lock. Now, this close, I can see that her eyes are red-rimmed. She’s been crying. Shit.