Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“I’m okay,” I said, though my voice told another story. “It was a long time ago. And Aunt Jeanie and Uncle Luke took me in and gave me a loving family and a home. I still have people at my daddy’s ranch who are my family too. I never yearned for belonging and affection.” I shifted a little closer and put a hand on his shoulder, keeping hold of his hand with the other. “But I know what it’s like to lose a loved one.” I huffed a laugh. “Two, really. My mom passed away when I was a toddler. She was sick. I don’t remember her or her passing, but I mourn her nonetheless.”
“My mother died too,” Jasper said, and a strange feeling of knowing one another wrapped around us. “Cancer. I was twelve.” His grip on my hand shifted, and we were now palm to palm, fully holding hands. “The same age you were when you lost your father.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I’m sorry too,” he echoed. I knew he was saying it as more than condolences. He was sorry for the way he had been.
“How did your father pass?” he asked, and there was a hint of something else in his voice. Something I couldn’t decipher. Like that topic was almost too fragile for him.
“Heart attack,” I said, and tried to push that day from my head.
Daddy? Daddy! Wake up! Wake up, please! Why aren’t you waking up?
My cry to his unmoving body still kept me up some nights. Jasper squeezed my hand in support. “I found him,” I said.
“Oh, Hallie . . .” Jasper wrapped his arm around me. He pulled me to his chest, and I sank into his embrace. He was warm despite it being cold outside, and his addictive scent was as cozy as roasted hazelnuts and pumpkin-spice lattes.
After a few seconds, I pulled back. “Ranching is hard,” I said, and Jasper listened intently. “He was far too overworked and tired, especially for his age.” I smiled sadly. “He never got over my mom’s death, at least that’s what his best friend and the old ranch hands told me.” I released a shaky breath. “In all honesty, I think he died of a broken heart. It just took a few years to take him down, is all.” I wiped away a stray tear but pulled myself together. “At least I know their love was real while they had it.” I laughed, mainly to break through the sadness. “Something to aspire to, I suppose.”
“It sounds like it,” Jasper said. Then his face fell, and he said, “Do you know how my dad died?”
I did. Of course I did. The news had rocked the equestrian world. “Yes. I’m so sorry.” It had been a car accident. It was a wet, cold night, and his car veered off the road, killing Mr. Knighton instantly.
Jasper grew silent. I felt like he was going to say something else, but whatever it was must have been too hard for him to express. After a minute of contemplative silence, he said, “When Genny had her accident, I thought that was it. That I was going to be the only remaining member of my nuclear family.” My stomach sank. It was like the energy seeped from Jasper’s body . . . No, not energy—hurt feelings he’d needed to share. “I’m fortunate in life, I know that. I have more money than I could ever ask for, and I love the industry we’re in. But watching my sister struggle with her recovery and Dahlia . . .” Jasper’s attention went to the stall. I could still hear Dahlia’s steady breathing. Jasper turned to me, and I swallowed a lump in my throat at the sincerity in his eyes. “What you did today for Dahlia, for Genny . . .” Jasper became at a loss for words.
“It was nothing,” I said, and tried to wave him off. It didn’t work.
“It wasn’t nothing,” he said, voice stern, the gruff and dominant Jasper returning to the surface. He squeezed my hand tighter. “It wasn’t nothing, Hallie. It was a gift, one that I didn’t deserve after how I’ve treated you.” I didn’t know how to respond to his candor. Jasper tipped his head to the side, studying me. “You truly have a gift, Hallie. I’ve never seen anyone work that kind of magic with horses.” He pointed at the stall. “Especially with Dahlia.”
“Just a few tips I picked up on my daddy’s ranch. People write off ranchers and horse farmers as though they aren’t impressive. But I’ve never seen people work with horses as well as cowboys do.” I thought of Canyon. “I have a brother of sorts, Canyon. He’s amazing with horses. If you talk of someone having a gift? That’s him. It’s almost magical.” I shrugged. “I just imitated him today. Thankfully it worked.”