Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
At times like this, I swear he’s a horse whisperer or something.
“Not the B word I’d use but to each their own.”
Dad glances over his shoulder with a knowing grin painted on his face. When he looks at me like this, I brace myself for him to give me all the answers. “Today’s only his first day, and it might take him a tad longer to warm up to the place, but he’ll get there.”
“Did he tell you that?” I muse.
“Maybe he did.”
“Yeah, well, you know his owner, Susan Henderson. She told me he better be ready before July. I told her I couldn’t guarantee such a quick turnaround, and she said if he’s not showroom ready by the beginning of June, she’d stop using us to train.”
Dad huffs because he knows she’s more of a pain in the ass than her horses. “She’s been threatening that for twelve years, and after all this time, she’s still yappin’ like that little Chihuahua she brings everywhere. We don’t rush perfection, Kaitlyn. Per the contract she happily signed, it will take as long as it takes. We guarantee a trained horse based on our metrics, not anyone else’s. If she doesn’t like it, I’ll blacklist her for runnin’ her mouth again. I hope you’re charging her double.”
I snicker, wishing I was brave enough to tell Susan those exact words.
“The only reason she’s even allowed—”
“Because Mom likes her and thinks she’s nice. Even though she’s a ragin’ bitch.”
“Language.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m thirty years old, Dad.”
“And as long as you still live under my roof, I’ll ground your ass. At any age.” He laughs.
“Great. At this rate, you’ll be punishing me for saying fuck when I’m fifty.” I groan. Living at home saves money, especially since the majority of my time is spent working or hanging out with Payton.
“Well, when you move out, you can cuss all you want in your house. Then your mama and I can finally get some alone time back before we had all you kids,” he teases, waggling his brows.
I pretend to gag. “I don’t care how old I am, spare me. It’s too early to hear you talkin’ about doing the nasty with Mom.”
“How do y’all think you were conceived?”
“Grandma told me there was a stork, and that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”
Chuckling, he shakes his head. “Oh, if you only knew. We were hot and heavy back in our early days.”
“Gross. Considering y’all are as handsy as you are now, I don’t want to imagine how y'all were back then.”
He finally turns back to the horse. “When you build the connection with Murderpaws, he won’t spook. You know when he starts losing rhythm…”
“What did you just call him?” I arch a brow, holding back laughter.
“After a while, all these killer racehorse names start soundin’ the same.” He shrugs. “You’re a pro at this. I’ll leave ya to it.”
“Thanks. We’ve wasted enough time this mornin’,” I say, moving toward Widowmaker.
I place my foot in the stirrup and pull myself onto the saddle. Leaning down, I pat him, then we return to our warm-up walk before the real work begins.
I’ve been training horses since I was a teenager, and none of them have been the same, even though the principles and basics don’t change. Not sure why I expected this big guy to be any different. He’s only four and has a lot to learn.
Each time we pick up our pace, I give him praise so he knows he’s done well. We work on the basics of moving in long straight strides. He gets fussy as we take a corner, so I turn him and do it again. When he gets it right, his excitement doesn’t go unnoticed.
After an hour of training, I brush Widowmaker, then put him in his stall before getting Danger ready for his session. Keeping my horses on their training schedule is critical. If I fuck up one of my time slots, it will throw off the entire week, and I don’t have time for that.
When Mom yells that it’s lunchtime, I realize I’ve lost track of time again. If it weren’t for her reminders, I’d skip meals because I get so focused.
After brushing Danger, I head to the front of the facility and wash my hands in the bathroom.
“Headin’ to the B&B,” I say, poking my head into the office where I catch my parents making out. “Oh, c’mon. Get a room.”
“We’ve got one.” Mom reaches over and shuts the door in my face. Even after all these years, they’re grossly in love. One day, I wish to have what they do, but at this rate, I’ll have more luck being struck by lightning.
“Kaitlyn?” she shouts behind the door before I can walk away. “Don’t forget Zach will be late cleaning the stalls after school this week.”