Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Silas nodded. Whatever he thought about all this, he kept to himself, for which I was truly grateful. Those years hadn’t been easy, necessarily, but I’d never been one to stand around and ask, “Why me?” and I didn’t appreciate it when other people did. Sympathy was dangerously close to pity sometimes. Besides, at least when you did a thing yourself, you knew it would get done right, to the best of your ability. When you relied too much on other folks, things got dicey.
“You keep mentioning roundup,” Silas said finally. “What is that? I thought it was for cattle.”
Here, now, was a topic I could talk on happily for hours without feeling the raw vulnerability I got when talking about family stuff. I set the plates on the table and took the seat opposite him.
“We board and supply horses for local dude ranches and trail ride organizations. Basically, we’re the place the horses live in the off-season, and then roundup is when we move all the horses back out to where they work the summer season. It means different things depending on the horse. Some actually get rounded up and moved on foot to nearby ranches and stables, but most of them get trailered and moved that way. It’s a big job for us because we’ve got two hundred horses, and we have to make sure the right horse goes to the right place and that they’re in working shape when they get there.”
Silas looked interested, which was more than I expected. He proceeded to ask a bunch of questions about the logistics and ranch operations, and we continued talking about it while we devoured the pizza.
“So, it’ll be slow around here in summer?”
“We have fewer head to care for, which is good, but we always have a certain level of stock that we’re breeding or training. While the ranch may be slower, summer is when Majestic swells with tourist traffic, and my job in town is more demanding.”
He asked several more questions, digging into my role as mayor and the impact of summer tourism on the town.
After a while, I held up a hand with a laugh. “I feel like I’m back in the initial meetings with AdventureSmash, answering a million questions about how fit the town is to hold a big event. If you’re going to keep asking questions, at least let me grab fortification first.”
Silas looked a bit apologetic as he helped me clean up from dinner and waited patiently while I pulled out the cookie bars Sheridan had brought. We sat back at the table with fresh beers.
“I didn’t mean to grill you,” he said. “I was just surprised when you said Majestic’s population swells triple the size in summer. That’s incredible. It must be a logistical nightmare.”
“We’re used to it. It’s been this way for a long time. That’s one of the reasons AdventureSmash is giving us a chance. They know we can handle a sudden influx of people.” I eyed him across the table. “I’m happy to tell you more, but that’s hardly helping us get to know each other the way we need to. Don’t think I haven’t noticed we’ve been talking about me and mine this whole time.”
Silas’s expression didn’t change, but I sensed some tension in him. “Ask me anything.”
I bit off a piece of cookie bar and chewed it thoughtfully. “How do you take your eggs?”
He stared at me enough to almost make me laugh. “My… eggs?”
I pursed my lips. “Or don’t you like eggs? Not sure I’ve met a guy who didn’t eat eggs before.”
He hesitated, like this was some kind of trick. “I usually order egg white omelettes for health reasons, but my favorite is fried eggs on toast. You?”
“Scrambled in a toast sandwich, mostly because I’m usually headed out the door and don’t have time to sit and eat like a normal person. See? This is prime husband information.”
Silas nodded. “Alright. What else do you want to know? I take my steak medium rare. I love sushi but dislike shrimp. My favorite food is my mother’s lasagna when I can convince my sister to make it for me.”
“Your mom won’t make it for you?”
“No.” He inhaled slowly. “I’m, ah… estranged from my parents.”
I reached out to grab his hand without thinking, something I never would have done with any other guy. For some reason, it came naturally with Silas. “I’m sorry. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”
He seemed to consider the matter before speaking. “They didn’t approve of some of the decisions I made a few years ago when I got out of college. Our disagreement became impossible to reconcile. I ended communication with them.”
“Was it because of your… um… sexuality?”
His expression softened. “No. That part was fine. Don’t forget, I grew up in the Northeast. Not Brokeback Mountain.”