Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
After Dad heads off to look for Mom at the house, I meet Porter at the gate. The groom has hold of the rope and is trying to lead the stubborn stallion toward food and water. But he’s not having it and rears up, not realizing what’s good for him. The rope slips out of the groom’s hand, and he moves away, leery about trying again. Two steps forward, one step back.
“Damn impressive,” I say.
Porter smirks. “Thanks, boss.”
“Dad says you can work with Storm as long as everything else gets done.”
“Yeah? Good to know because that one will need extra work.”
His smile is blinding, and again I have the urge to close the distance between us and take his mouth.
As if he knows exactly what I’m thinking, he clears his throat and looks away. “Well, better get to it, then.”
He gives me his back, and that isn’t such a bad view of him either.
Chapter 10
Porter
It’s only been three days, but I’m not happy I’ve only gotten Storm to be calm while on a rope for all of five minutes. I don’t know how I got so lucky so quickly, or what it is that has him so spooked, but he clearly doesn’t like feeling trapped that way, and he’s incredibly skittish around people. I’m not a fan of roping the hoof to get mustangs to lie down. So I’m trying it my way unless it becomes a necessity.
I’m sitting in the dirt inside the pen with him now. None of the other horses are out, and the other cowboys are all doing other things, but every spare moment I’ve got, I’ve been sitting with him.
He starts snorting and kicking up dust, and I turn to see Pixie coming inside the gate. “Stay back. You shouldn’t be coming in without anyone knowing with a mustang like Storm. Wild horses are unpredictable. It’s a good way to get yourself hurt.”
“I know,” she says like she’s an adult instead of a ten-year-old kid. “I only came in because he’s on the other side of the pen and you’re in here. Mr. Bishop says you can speak horse and they listen to you better than anyone he’s ever seen, so I figure that means I’m safe.”
I huff. “If I speak horse, how come I can’t keep Storm calm on a rope yet?”
Pixie sits beside me. I don’t have much experience with kids, and I’m not really sure how to act around her. She makes me feel a little itchy, like I’m gonna catch being a kid from her just from getting too close.
“You’ll get him,” she says.
“Where’s your daddy?” He’s… Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about him yet. I don’t trust him. I can’t say why. We’ve barely spoken, but I get the sense he doesn’t like me.
She shrugs. “Don’t know. Wade came outta the bunkhouse to find you for dinner, and I said I’d tell you it’s ready.”
I nod but don’t have any plans on going inside yet. I was hoping to get a little closer and have another talk with Storm, but I’m not sure how that’s gonna work with the kid here. “Don’t’cha got anything to do besides sit here and bug me?”
She laughs. Who in the hell is this kid? “You don’t like kids?”
“I don’t know what to do with kids.”
“You don’t gotta do anything with me,” she says just as Storm starts making a fuss again, kicking up dirt and huffing.
I look up and see Sully making his way over. “Jesus Christ,” I groan. “What is this, a party?”
“Just wanted to see what the two of you are doin’,” Sully answers.
“Well, I was trying to get some alone time with Storm, but that doesn’t seem like it’s gonna happen.”
There’s a whole ranch for the two of them to do whatever the hell they want, yet they have to sit here with me?
“Why do you just sit in here with him?” Pixie asks. “It don’t feel like you’re doing much.”
“So he gets used to being around me…and knows I won’t hurt him and that I’m not going anywhere. It’s like a socializing thing. Every once in a while I get closer, talk to him.” I’ve been working with horses most of my life, and yet a few minutes with Pixie and she has me second-guessing myself.
“She’s giving you a hard time,” Sully says to me, then turns to the kid. “Go easy on him.”
“What’d I do?” She bats her eyelashes like she’s innocent when I think she’s anything but.
“She’s full of mischief, just like you.”
“I’m not full of nothing,” I argue, and the two of them start laughing. As annoying as it is, I have to bite the insides of my cheeks so I don’t do the same. I don’t want to think they’re cute or funny or whatever it is they’re going for, but I’m finding it harder than I should to keep my emotions shut down. Sometimes just looking at him makes me want to forget all the hardships between us.