Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I was so intent on watching Ainsley groom her horse—because no doubt she’d drill me about it later—that I didn’t hear Julian walk up to the paddock after his lunch. But I did recognize his warmth and the pressure of his shoulder as he settled beside me near the gate. We were both dusty and sweaty from the morning’s work, but there was this other underlying scent to him that I wished I could take a deeper whiff of. Sort of woodsy with a hint of spice like the aftershave he’d left on the bathroom counter the other morning that I couldn’t help lifting to my nose. Way to dig myself in deeper, because he only intrigued me more.
Julian’s attention was turned toward the grassy area, where George was leading our new rescue. The horse was slightly skittish, which was understandable, but he followed instructions well and seemed to acquiesce as soon as a voice was raised, which made me question if the tone triggered something from his past. A couple of the rescues we’d taken in had a rough history, and some had just gotten past their prime and needed someplace to live out the remainder of their lives. We had to be selective, though, or we’d bite off more than we could chew; we had plenty of work around here between the three of us and the seasonal hires we employed in the spring and fall for birthing season and the harvest.
Julian was staring so intently at the horse, I wondered what it was about him that had captured so much of his attention. Julian didn’t seem wary like he’d been the handful of times in the stables with the other horses, or like that time when he’d startled and I had to steady him. This time he seemed openly curious, absorbed, almost bewitched.
“You got a thing for those ginger boys, huh?” I smirked. It felt damned good to be able to joke about something regarding our sexuality. Fuck, who knew a stupid joke could be so freeing?
His eyebrows drew together before he got my meaning. Then he burst out laughing.
“Maybe I do.” He eyed me up and down, and holy crap, the flirtatious tone coming from such a gorgeous guy lit a fire in my belly. I hadn’t even considered the fact that my hair was similar in color to the horse’s mane, though mine was lighter, more of a tawny hue. And my scruff grew in even darker in the winter months.
“Is that your new rescue?” Julian asked, his voice taking on a strange lilt.
“Yep, his name is Mercy.” I studied his reaction. Mercy was handsome, with that auburn coat, but I’d never seen Julian quite so captivated by an animal on the farm before, let alone a horse, which he seemed guarded about from the start. “Have Mercy is technically his name. He was a race horse who had an accident that cost him his livelihood.”
“You’re kidding.” His eyes scanned the length of the horse, but the scars from the accident had long since healed. His mane and coat were back to being shiny, which no doubt told the story of his recovery. It was why grooming and gentle care were imperative.
“His locomotor system was affected, so he developed an abnormal gait, likely from all the pain he’d endured. His jockey was injured as well,” I explained, and Julian winced, compassion shining in his eyes. “Thankfully, Mercy was nursed back to health—his rider too, I heard. So now that his racing days are over, he’s ready to live a simpler life on a farm.”
“And they called you to take him in?” Again, there was a modicum of awe in his voice.
“Told you we’ve become a sort of sanctuary around here.” I shrugged. “And we certainly didn’t want to see him put down.”
“Actually, it was Kerry who convinced them to send Mercy here,” Sienna said from over my shoulder as she joined us against the fence. She was carrying feed in a bucket for the chickens and had stopped to check on Ainsley as well. We were like two sides of the same coin when it came to our daughter. “He’s the biggest softie around here.”
My cheeks burned. “Whatever you say.”
It was true I’d been the one to take the call, but Sienna didn’t need any convincing. I was just grateful that the underlying anger and disappointment I’d felt from her since our divorce was finally dissipating. For her to joke about my temperament was rare, but had been happening more the past year, which told me we had gotten over that hurdle and she didn’t need to sling mud at me quite so much anymore. Even though I’d take any amount she wanted to hurl after what I’d put her through.
I could feel Julian studying me again, and damn it, had Sienna not been there, I might’ve been brave enough to give it right back, like we’d done the other night. But this was out in the open, so probably not a good idea. Besides, nothing good could come of it anyway.