Total pages in book: 254
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
We had already gone over how Duncan didn’t know his alphabet yet—at least I hadn’t taught it to him, and he didn’t watch Sesame Street, so I figured? More like hoped. “But maybe now would be the time to do it since all those muscles are blown out,” I told her, and she groaned.
“No. Never. He’s not even allowed to look at it ever again.”
I laughed, and she smiled a little. “Where is he anyway? He’s still really sick?”
“Uh-huh. I told him to fast, but he didn’t listen and ate more of your jerky a few hours ago, and now he’s paying for it.”
We both scrunched up our faces and said, “Dumb,” at the same time, making us burst into giggles.
“How was your day?” she asked, misery etched all over her features. “I feel so bad we left you with all these strangers.”
“You should.” I lifted a shoulder. “First off, someone—” I pointed toward the floor where Duncan was. “—forgot I existed. Did you know the preschool here is mandatory for the kids? Anyway, I dropped him off, and I was trying so hard not to c-r-y, and he ran in there like his butt was on fire. Real fire, I mean.”
Sienna’s laugh was as loud as it could be considering I was pretty sure she might have pulled some ab muscles on the toilet seat today.
“I’m o-f-f-e-n-d-e-d and a little h-u-r-t, but I’m really, really glad he seems to be doing well.” I was. Deep down. I gestured with my chin toward the cutest donut on the planet by my feet. “See how tired he is?”
We looked down. The tip of his tongue was hanging out of his mouth. I was pretty sure I heard a snore. So freaking adorable. Traitor and all.
I wasn’t going to get upset, so I changed the subject. “Anyway, all you missed out on was a tour of the ranch.”
She made a circle with her hand like she wanted me to rewind. “Who gave you a tour?”
“Henri.”
“Who else went?”
“Just us.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Huh.”
“What?”
Her shrug was pretty dang dainty. “Just you two. Huh. Hmm.” She slumped even more across the counter, but her expression stayed attentive. “He doesn’t have time to text Matti back, but he has time to give you a tour of this place.”
“Franklin, the elder, pawned me off on him. I’m pretty sure he—Henri—only wanted me to be sure I understood that there’s a lot of work that goes into the upkeep and that they expect me to help,” I told her. “We had a chitchat over me moving here after that crap he threw out about the three months, and he said it was fine, but….”
But maybe that was in character with the way he operated, but maybe he was also trying to be diplomatic when he would rather me leave regardless of what he’d said.
I doubted it. Nothing about the way he spoke or acted, so far, gave me the impression he spent too much time screening his words or decisions. Just his emotions. He still seemed to be the same honorable Henri who had been so reluctantly chivalrous when I’d been a kid. Like if he’d catch me busting my ass, he’d lead me back into Matti’s house and hand me a first aid kit. Or if Matti and I got caught playing too rough, he had never hesitated to remind him to be gentler. I’d had a crush on him for a reason. Once I’d discovered liking boys, he’d been one of my earliest victims.
He just… was a decent man. Maybe a good man now, was my guess. I figured I’d find out the more time we spent together. Talking to each other hadn’t been a struggle so far. He’d called me Cricket multiple times. It was nice that he’d remembered.
On the way back from the bigfoot—I meant Spencer the sasquatch, who I still needed to tell her about—Henri had told me more about the situation with the children who lived on the ranch. How when they reached a certain age and were in control enough of their magic, they attended a normal school in the closest town, but not all of them did. Half the teenagers preferred to study on the property. For every question I’d shot at him, he’d had an answer. A good one.
He knew everything about this place.
And he’d told me a few other things that caught my attention.
There was a five-thousand-acre wildlife preserve located on the ranch.
Two weeks a year, some of the residents worked as tour guides for exclusive—he meant expensive—raft fishing tours through a section of a river on the opposite side of the property.
One of the mountains you could see from certain spots on the ranch was called Blackrock Mountain.
When we’d made it back to the building that stored the vehicles, all he’d said was, “Someone else will give you more details.” Then he’d headed straight back to the clubhouse without another word, leaving me there outside.