Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Sometimes it helps to sleep in your own bed, even when you’re almost twenty-four years old.
I draw in a deep breath, put on a denim miniskirt and a green T-shirt, slide my feet into flip flops, and then exhale.
Time to face the music.
I walk out of the bedroom and follow the smell of coffee to the kitchen.
Angie’s mom, who I’ve only met once, is in the kitchen, along with who I assume is the cook and housekeeper.
Mrs. Simpson looks up when she sees me enter. “Tabitha,” she says, “so great to see you. I’m sorry that Bryce and I weren’t here to welcome you when you got in yesterday.”
“Oh, no worries, Mrs. Simpson.”
She smiles. “Didn’t I tell you the last time we met? Call me Marj. Everyone does.”
“Sure. Marj.” I offer a forced smile. “Thank you. But Angie and Sage”—I swallow—“and Henry were here.”
“Yes, Henry is having his whole house redone, so he’ll be here for a few more weeks since Dave and Maddie are in the guesthouse while their house is being built. Frankly, I’m happy he’s here.” She gazes wistfully out the window. “I was never one of those moms who couldn’t wait for her kids to get out of the nest. I miss my kids every day they’re not here.”
I smile. Marjorie is so beautiful and so nice. Angie and Sage both look a lot like her. “I wish my mom were more like that,” I say.
“I’m sure she loves you very much.”
“Oh, she does. But she enjoys being an empty nester.”
“I suppose there are a lot of good things about it,” Marjorie agrees. “I’m just glad Sage is still here. Though I’m sure she’ll get the bug eventually and build her own house somewhere on the property. All the kids do.”
I’m not sure what to say to that. I suppose when your family owns a zillion acres on the Colorado Western Slope, the sky is the limit.
“Anya can get you some coffee if you’d like,” she says.
I shake my head. “No need to bother her. I can get it myself.”
“That’s fine, if you’d rather.” Marj gestures to the coffeepot.
Anya smiles at me and hands me a mug. “Here you go, Miss Tabitha.”
“Just Tabitha’s fine. Please.”
She nods. “Certainly, as you wish.”
I pour myself a cup of coffee. I don’t add anything as I prefer it black.
“Have a seat right here next to me,” Marjorie says, patting a chair.
I smile and take a seat.
“Bryce and Sage went into the office already, since they’ll be leaving early for the big rehearsal tonight. Angie is still in bed.”
I clear my throat. “And Henry?” I ask.
She laughs lightly. “Up with the birds, as usual. I think he wanted to go for a ride on Thunder.”
Thunder. I remember the stallion he introduced me to last night.
“I met all the horses at the nearest barn yesterday,” I say. “They certainly are beautiful animals.”
“Do you ride?”
“No. Never have. I’ve always thought that one day I’d like to learn.”
“Feel free to stay here any time. Bryce or Henry could teach you. Or Sage. Angie never took to it quite as much, but she has a mare named Penelope who she adores.”
“Do you ride?” I ask.
“Love it,” she says. “My brothers used to hate me following them around all the time. For the first ten years of my life, I thought I was a boy like them.”
I swallow my sip of coffee and laugh. Marjorie makes me feel very at home.
Though I wonder how she’d feel about me if she knew what I did with her son in the barn last night.
I take another sip of coffee. “So tell me about this restaurant we’re going to in town today for the bridal party luncheon.”
“Lorenzo’s,” Marjorie says, “run by Lisa Lorenzo in Snow Creek. Her dishes are amazing, and coming from me, that’s a compliment. Trust me.”
I smile. “Oh yeah, I remember your cooking from the last time I was here.”
“I’m planning to join as well.” She frowns. “It’s sad, really, that both of Jason’s parents are deceased, and he doesn’t have any siblings.”
I nod. “Yeah, it is sad.”
“But Bryce and I have embraced him. He’s an honorary son now, just like Maddie is an honorary daughter.”
I give her another smile, and this time it’s genuine. “I wish my own mother were more like you,” I say. “I guess I already said that.” I look down. “Don’t get me wrong. She was a good mom and all. But both she and Dad worked outside the home, so my sister, Sam, and I were alone a lot. Daycare kids, until we were old enough to stay by ourselves. Once Sam was in seventh grade, she was responsible for me after school.”
“I’m sure your parents did the best they could,” Marjorie says.
I nod. “They did. At least one of them showed up for every function we ever had, which was good, even if they couldn’t both make it. And they taught us to strive for greatness. Both Sam and I got through college on scholarships. There aren’t a lot of scholarships available for medical school, so I’m on my own there.”