Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
That’s exactly what I’d said to Creed.
“What do you think about the fish fry tomorrow, Holly?” DeeDee pushed.
“I…” She hesitated, unsure what to say. How to turn down a thirteen-year-old gently. “I think I have to pack.”
“We can help you with that,” Cat suggested as she held up the dog in her hands. “And we can spend some time with this little guy!”
I blew out a breath, rather grateful that she hadn’t straight-up asked to keep it.
Out of all of my kids, Cat was the damn bleeding heart.
That was why we always ended up getting lame ducks and chickens that didn’t lay any damn eggs.
Hell, just last week, she’d asked if we could keep an alpaca.
I’d been sort of, maybe a little bit, kind of happy that the alpaca had died before I could say no.
The damn thing was older than dirt, and the farmer that’d had it had died. Everyone had scrambled to make sure that all the animals had homes, but the alpaca had been mean and no one else had wanted it.
“I don’t know…”
“Dad, we can use the farm truck, right?” Cat asked. “I don’t think that everything will fit into Holly’s car. Holly, you still have that car, right?”
Holly grimaced. “I do. But I think I might need to sell it if I’m living out here again. Its suspension is kind of a mess…”
That was an understatement.
The entire car had been a fuckin’ mess.
Court, our resident mechanic, had taken one look at it and declared it a disaster unfit to drive.
A few months ago, Holly’s car had broken down at work. Boone’s girl, Nettie, had let Holly take her car home.
Meanwhile, we’d taken Holly’s car to Court’s shop and gotten him to fix it as best as he could.
Which, inevitably, wasn’t much.
There was only so much you could do with a car that’d been used hard and put up wet.
“Why don’t you just drive the farm truck?” Cat suggested. “It’s not like we drive it. It sits there, and then Dad complains when we don’t use it. He keeps the insurance up on it, and it runs. The only problem is, it’s a rough ride.”
My girls had been driving since they were old enough to hold the wheel straight. And they definitely had favorite vehicles to drive. The oldest farm truck, a 1978 Ford, was a bit rough around the edges. But it drove like a dream and was sentimental. I’d never get rid of it.
“I couldn’t…”
“It’s actually part of the contract.” Cat pointed to the middle paragraph. “Dad knows how rough the roads are out here. Aunt Sorcha can’t even get her little Beemer down the road to the ranch anymore. She has to bring Uncle Major’s truck.”
“It’s on my to-do list to fix.”
It’d been at the bottom of my list for months. But since it didn’t really affect me, it wasn’t something I was going to get fixed right away.
“So that’s settled.” Cat nuzzled the dog to her face. “We’ll all go help you pack tomorrow. Then Dad can come over and lift the heavy stuff. Do you have a lot of heavy stuff?”
“No.” Holly shook her head, unused to getting railroaded.
Holly’s and my gaze met over the top of Cat’s head.
Welcome to my life, my gaze said.
She widened hers at me, but then looked away, back to her food that she’d pretty much finished.
“What’s settled?” Joe asked as she came into the room wearing a baggy sweatshirt that had been mine once upon a time. If I didn’t look too hard and squinted, I could almost pretend that she hadn’t gotten knocked up.
“Holly’s moving in. We’re helping her move tomorrow. She’s coming to the barbecue, and she’s also going to be driving Dad’s old truck,” DeeDee said as she set the ice cream down in front of me with a spoon. “Can you finish scooping this out for me? It’s hard.”
I did as asked, giving her way more than she wanted.
Holly eyed the carton with longing.
“Want some?” I tilted it toward her.
There wasn’t much, but enough to hit the spot.
“I shouldn’t…”
“Here.” DeeDee slid a spoon across the table at her. “What kind of ice cream is your favorite?”
SEVEN
Don’t ever be scared to cancel plans with me. I probably don’t want to go anyway.
—Holly’s secret thoughts
HOLLY
I was staring at the brand-new kitchen in my new apartment, with all of my stuff not only around me, but unpacked and in place, and wondering how my life had changed so quickly.
Yesterday, I’d been in my apartment wondering what was next for me.
Today, I was some thirteen-year-old’s bitch.
“Are you ready?” DeeDee asked.
She was literally the biggest railroader I’d ever met.
So much like her dad, it was funny to see the two next to each other butting heads.
Denver hadn’t helped me pack.
He’d shown up for ten minutes, packed all the boxes that were too heavy for us to get, and had left to go grab some oil for the fish fry.