Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Thinking is good,” I said easily as Carson resumed walking Cinder around the ring. Carson’s gait was steady, but measured, as if he had to think a little harder about each step than most. He had a wicked scar along his hairline and a few other fainter ones on his face. Like Colt, Carson had short dark-brown hair and matching stubble, although Carson’s was patchier. He was shorter than Colt and me, but with a broad, sturdy frame that remained muscled even after everything he’d been through. “No pressure. Let’s get Cinder back to her stall.”
“Okay.” He led Cinder to the gate, which I held open for them. After I shut the gate, I tagged along after the pair.
“You cleared to ride?” I asked conversationally as we made our way to Cinder’s stall.
“Yep.” Carson gave me a defiant glare at odds with my more pleasant tone, but I was undeterred.
“Excellent. You might see about giving Cinder a little light exercise later.” I kept my voice casual, the same as I would with giving advice to any ranch worker. “The attention and exercise would likely do her good.”
“Not too sick?” His tone was cautious, but the hopeful glint in his eyes said he was itching to ride. Glancing away, he busied himself with getting Cinder settled back into her stall.
“Nah. At least, I don’t think so.” For all she’d gotten picky about her feed, Cinder’s physical exam had been fine, ruling out any signs of colic, and my intuition said whatever ailed her was likely minor. “I’ll have the blood work back tomorrow, and we’ll go from there.”
“You already finished the blood draw?” Kat came striding up to where Carson and I stood near Cinder’s stall. Grayson was close behind her.
“Yep. Carson was a huge help.” I gestured toward Carson as he stepped out from Cinder’s stall and latched the door. “We got it done in record time and no fight from Cinder either.”
“That’s good news.” Kat smiled at us. “Sorry I wasn’t here to greet you, Jude. We were in a meeting with Maverick, going over some numbers and upcoming plans.”
“No worries.” I shrugged. “Carson was more than up to the task.”
Carson’s cheeks turned ruddy. “Gonna get…back mucking.”
“Good luck,” I said as he clomped toward the stalls he’d been working on when I arrived. “Thanks again for the help.”
“Hope he’s not tiring himself out,” Kat fretted after he was out of earshot.
“I’ll check on him in a bit, make sure he’s taking breaks.” Grayson gave a decisive nod.
“He seems to be handling himself fine.” I gave each of them a stern look in turn. They should know better, especially Grayson, who dealt with any number of old injuries from his rodeo days. “Might want to hover less.”
“That’s what he said. Wants to be treated like the other hands.” Grayson’s tone was frustrated but not unkind.
“Probably a good idea.” I glanced down at Grayson’s ankle. He often had a subtle limp, especially when it was cold or at the end of long days.
“But he’s still rehabbing his injuries.” Grayson didn’t seem inclined to see my point that Carson needed space and respect. “And he’s Colt’s baby brother. We don’t want him overdoing it.”
“Might want to let Carson be the judge of what he’s up to,” I said coolly.
“That’s probably a better approach,” Kat allowed.
“You’re right.” Grayson groaned, stretching his neck from side to side. “No one wants to be coddled.”
“Or spoken for,” Kat added, wagging a finger at Grayson. “You were finishing his sentences earlier.”
“Fair.” Grayson’s shoulders slumped. “It’s hard to see him like this, but I’ve gotta hand it to him for how far he’s come. He’s got a lot of fight, that’s for sure.”
“Something I’ve learned through my work with other veterans is everyone has their own path back.” I wasn’t quite done with my lecture. Simone, the counselor who led the veterans’ support group, was always quick to call out casual ableism, and it was also a frequent complaint from my fellow veterans who dealt with chronic injuries. “We all need to let Carson find his way. Accommodate as necessary, but let him be the boss of his own life.”
“When did you go and get so wise?” Kat whistled low. She was only slightly older than me, but she’d always had a sort of big-sister attitude toward me. “And now I feel bad.”
“We’ll do better.” Grayson clapped her on the shoulder before turning back toward me. “Colt might need your advice too. He’s already messaged twice this morning, checking up.”
“I imagine being the eldest brother is tough, but I’ll suggest he lay off.” As an only child, I could only guess at the responsibility for his siblings that Colt had shouldered after losing his father at a young age.
“Good plan.” In an obvious bid to change the subject, Grayson pointed at the horse. “How’s Cinder?”