Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“We’re surrounded by overbearing, super-alpha, overprotective men, Betty.” I rub her neck softly as I watch the two men disappear. “It’s infuriating. Do you want an apple?”
I hop off her to give her a break and pull an apple that I brought with me out of the saddlebag, and she gently takes it out of my hand, happily crunching away.
“You’re my best friend. My best girl.” I kiss her cheek, and I see the love in her brown eye shining back at me. “I know, you love me, too. I’m going to come out and ride you at least once a week, like we used to. Okay? You and me, Bets, we’re gonna ride all summer.”
She snorts and nods, and I grin.
She likes that idea.
“Okay, let’s circle back, shall we? It’s almost dinnertime.” I launch myself back onto her, already feeling the pull of muscles in my thighs and butt, up into my back, that haven’t been used lately. “Maybe we’ll make something special for Holden for dinner. I’m pretty decent at fried chicken. I wonder if he likes fried chicken. He must. I mean, who doesn’t, right?”
I’m singing a country song about chicken fried as we wander down the fence line to where it meets Lexington property again, and with a break in the fence, we easily march right through.
“There’s a lot of downed fencing from winter,” I mutter, shaking my head. “If we can get through, so can other animals and cows. I’ll let the guys know. I haven’t ridden fence in five years or more.”
I never hated ranch work. In fact, it’s honest, hard work that is damn satisfying. But I never loved being out in the hot sun all summer long. It zaps me.
We’ve come around a bend, still near the property line, and find the creek again, along with another fence. The property line must zigzag a bit over here.
“Want a drink, baby?”
Again, I hop down, and Betty gets a drink.
She doesn’t really need to drink this much, but she’s not working today. She’s my friend. And I’m in no hurry.
As she drinks, I walk over to examine this fence. It looks older than the other one, and since we’re about twenty yards from the actual property line, it doesn’t make sense for it to be here.
“Maybe it’s just a really old property line fence,” I murmur as I approach. “Maybe an original piece, and it’s still standing for sentimental reasons.”
And then the world falls out from under me.
With a scream, I fall, landing hard on my right ankle, into the soft earth below. I scramble up, but because my ankle is hurt, I have to lean on the wall of dirt. There are roots sticking out, hanging down, and I don’t even want to think about the bugs that are crawling around me right now.
Oh, God, the bugs!
I pull my phone out, but there’s no signal.
No fucking signal.
When I flip on the flashlight and shine it around me, I yelp at the sight of the bones of a critter that died in here at some point. Maybe a raccoon or a possum.
“Ugh, that’s so gross.”
The hole isn’t big. It’s maybe six feet wide, square, but it’s at least ten feet deep. I can’t reach the top with my hands, even if I jump, which I can’t because of my ankle.
Panic wants to set in, but I take a deep, earthy breath and let it out slowly, trying to hang on to my sanity with my fingernails.
“Okay,” I mutter to myself, looking around. “Maybe I can hold on to the roots to pull myself out.”
I pocket the useless phone and grab on to a handful of roots, and, ignoring my screaming ankle, try to climb the side as if it’s a rock wall and I’m Alex Honnold, free soloing El Capitan.
“Yeah, because I could do that in any lifetime,” I mutter, but then give it a shot and find myself flat on my back, staring up at the blue sky overhead and the broken roots in my hand. I scramble back to my feet. “Shit.”
I try to roll the ankle and let out a whimper when the pain doesn’t go away.
“Not broken, but definitely sprained.” I sigh, looking up, and then the severity of the situation starts to wrap itself around my neck and tighten, stealing the breath from my lungs. My heart hammers, and blood rushes through my ears.
I’m at the bottom of a deep hole, on Lexington property, with no cell signal. I can’t call for help. I’m at least a couple of miles away from Holden’s barn, and farther than that from my family.
“Betty?” I call out, my voice sounding like sandpaper. “Betty! Come here, girl.”
God, I don’t want her to fall in, but maybe I could reach her reins if she lowers her head. I hear her footsteps overhead, and then they get farther away.