Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
“You okay?”
I pull my thoughts back to the present and fake a smile. “I’m good. Sorry, I just got lost in my own thoughts,” I answer. “It’s been a long day.”
“Then from here out, you need to relax. Let’s go see Ranger.”
I freeze. “They named the horse Ranger?”
“Well, Colt asked me if I could think of any names. That one kept playing around in my head. I thought it was a good name for a horse. You don’t like it?”
“I hate that name,” I respond, my voice shaking. Ranger is the man who betrayed Bear. He’s the one who worked with Ayita to kill him. To saddle a beautiful buckskin foal with Ranger is a horrible curse.
Lake looks taken aback. “Wow, that’s a lot of anger you have over a name.”
“I knew a guy named Ranger. He was not a good person. He was a traitor and a murderer.”
“Okay, so what name should we tell Colt? I’ll have him change it before they send the paperwork in,” he says, squeezing my hand in reassurance.
“I don’t know anything about naming horses,” I murmur.
“Well, you can’t muck it up any worse than I did,” he jokes.
“I’m sorry. I’m just being silly,” I mutter, suddenly embarrassed.
“No, you’re not. Let’s go check out the foal, he’s just down this way.”
Lake leads me down the center of the barn. It’s cemented and painted a bronze-colored stain that matches the handles and metal on the individual stall doors. There’s a row on the right side of the barn and a row on the left. They’re beautifully clean and somehow even the metal sparkles. The place is perfectly climate-controlled too. This place is nicer than most people’s homes. When he slides the door back to the large stall, I gasp. Lying on a fluffy floor full of hay is a mare—that looks completely worn out—along with the most beautiful little foal I’ve ever seen. Black mane and tail, buckskin in color that gleams in the stall's light.
“He’s beautiful,” I whisper. I watch as he stands up. His legs are still a little shaky, but I imagine better than they were when he stood for the first time.
I watched as the mother doted on the foal. I frown slightly. “Can the mother stand?”
“Her name is Darkness,” he says, and I nod, remembering he had mentioned that before. “She needs to recover, but she’ll be okay. The vet comes over and exercises her throughout the day. She’s been standing a lot today. We get her up often, I promise.”
“C-Can I touch him?”
“Sure, but he’s skittish. If he backs away, let him. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I squat down on my knees, then carefully reach out my hand. The mare neighs, and I hold myself still. The little foal takes a wobbly step toward me. His nose nudges my hand, sniffing it. His tongue licks it, making me giggle. He pushes his nose back against my hand, and I’m in love.
“Such a pretty baby,” I croon, petting him.
“I think he likes you,” Lake murmurs gently from beside me. It’s only then that I realize he bent down beside me.
“I like him, too,” I admit, turning to grin at him.
“You really are pretty when you smile, Livy.”
I feel heat flush my cheeks just as my muscles tense. I look back to the foal and his mom and try to calm my rapid heartbeat. “What about Dorado?”
“Dorado?”
“For his name. It fits him.”
“Damn. That’s kind of perfect. I thought you weren’t good at naming horses.”
I shrug. “I just thought it described him perfectly. It means golden one in Spanish.”
“Do you speak Spanish?”
“A little. I used to work for the mayor in Cherokee, North Carolina, though we worked closely with the Tennessee side too. It came in handy to learn.”
“How did someone that used to work for the mayor wind up working at a camp office? Seems like a big step down in careers.”
“That’s a long, ugly story that I don’t really talk about,” I say at once, not wanting to unleash those memories at all.
“Well, how about we settle down outside of Dorado’s stall and eat some dinner, and we’ll find a different subject to talk about?”
I look up at Lake. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’ve changed my mind and want to go home. I should, but the crazy thing is that I don’t want to. Lake—once again—feels safe to be around. I don’t want to leave. So, before I can stop myself, I nod. “Sounds good.”
I know I should stop this before it goes any further, but seems that even after all this time, I still don’t know what’s good for me.
Crap.
12
FREE FALLIN’
LAKE
I grabbed a small, portable, square table from the storage area, pulled out the legs, and set it up. Olivia insisted on grabbing two of the folding chairs, and while she sets those up as I unpack the cooler. I share the hand sanitizer with her and then feel completely lost on what to do next.