Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
As I serve dessert, a chocolate cake covered with creamy, dark ganache, Cash clears his throat.
"We've been discussing something," he says. There's a long pause, which I fill in my mind with phrases like “Last night was a mistake” or “We've decided we don't need a housemaid anymore and you need to pack your bags.” But what he actually says is totally different.
"We want you to help us turn Cooper's Farm into an organic farm. There's nothing like it around here. We could add the land to our current operation, but it seems like a waste when there is everything there that we need to get something new off the ground. We don't know anything about it, and we don't have time to learn right now, but you do. This can be your project."
For a long moment, I just stare at them all. Gray eyes and dark smiles and expressions of uncertainty. Five men who are viewed so badly by the people outside Hard Valley Ranch but who are trying to make me happy in any way they can. "You want me to run my farm?" I ask, flushing at the high-pitched squeak of my voice.
"We want you to transform it into something profitable." Cash nods, confirming his words.
"And you think I can do that?"
"We think you can do pretty much anything you turn your hand to," Sawyer says firmly.
"What about the house?" I ask. "And the garden?"
"You'll need to hire people to help you. We can help with that. We can help with all of it, but it's going to be yours to manage. You'll have the final say."
"Seriously?" There's an ache in my chest similar to the day the farm was sold at the auction and the day that Cash found me sleeping rough in what used to be my barn. It was an ache of loss and of change, but now it's an ache of gratitude and emotion.
"Seriously," Colt says, grinning.
"Oh my God." I grip the edge of the thick, oak table, trying to get a hold of myself. "I don't know what to say."
"Yes, would be a good start," Scott says, with a twitch of his lips that could almost be a smile.
Yes wouldn't be enough, not when this is so momentous.
I lost my farm, and I thought it was forever, but now these amazing men are giving me a chance to stand on my land again. I know it won't be the same. It'll still belong to them. It'll still be part of Hard Valley Ranch. I'll just be a manager of sorts, but it's better than I could have hoped for. It's everything.
I stand, rounding the table, putting my hands on Scott's cheeks, and kissing him softly. "Thank you," I say, kissing him again. I repeat it with each of my Bradford men, winding up being pulled onto Colt's lap and hugged against his chest.
"It's going to be great," he says, "Providing you still cook for us. I don't think I could cope with going back to Scott's ramen and Cash's burned sausages."
"Don't forget Cary's grilled cheese," Sawyer laughs.
"Hey, my grilled cheese is good. It only turned out bad that one time," Cary replies indignantly. "Anyway, Colt can't talk. His steaks were always tough as old boots."
I laugh at the idea of these men trying to fend for themselves again without some training. I reckon I could teach each of them a dish, and we could handle the cooking on a schedule, or maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.
Inside me, excitement bubbles restlessly. I can be a part of my farm again, and as daunting as it is to start something totally new from scratch, I can't wait.
21
That night, everything feels different. The Bradfords have confidence in me, way beyond anything I expected. More confidence than I ever have in myself, in a way. I mean, I know I’m capable. I’m a quick learner, and I always try my hardest but learning a new farming method is a challenge, one that even they haven’t had the time to master. They’re trusting me to do something new and challenging, and I’m beaming with a tremendous sense of pride.
Pride in me, and pride in them because they’re nothing like the men the gossipmongers would have me believe. They’re not ruthless ranchers out for their own ends. They’re caring and kind. They’ve noticed my capabilities and recognized my needs, and found a way to deliver exactly what I need to thrive.
They see me, and it feels great to be seen.
When I’m showered and dressed in my nightwear, I hunker down with them in the den, watching sport on the TV. I like football because it reminds me of time that I spent with my pa. Snuggled down with Colt on one side of me and Cary on the other, I feel squirmy and hot between my legs. It’s a new feeling; one born from knowing what it’s like to experience intimacy and pleasure and craving it with an overwhelming hunger.