Total pages in book: 216
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
Turns out the afternoons are all about mucking out stalls. It takes fifteen minutes for Xavier to demonstrate.
I see how he keeps his giant, muscled physique in tip-top shape. He’s using a heavy-looking pitchfork to sift the clean hay to the back of the stall and then drag all the messed hay—read, hay that’s full of horse pee and poop—out of the stall to the middle of the stable. Then I get to shovel that into a wheelbarrow and haul it across the field to the compost bins.
I also now intimately understand what’s meant by the term ‘back-breaking work.’ It takes me what feels like an hour to do a single stall. I almost immediately develop blisters from using the heavy pitchfork in spite of the thick work gloves Xavier gave me.
“How often do you do this?” I ask breathlessly after hauling the damn wheelbarrow back for the second time. “Once a week?”
His mouth twitches in amusement as he calmly sifts the hay in Tornado’s stall. “Every day. Twice if a horse is messy. Pioneer is especially bad about stepping in his own mess and getting it in all his bedding.”
I just stare at him. “Twice a day…” He’s got to be kidding me.
But the way he’s standing, one arm propped on top of the pitchfork, implacable gaze fixed on me, it sure doesn’t look like he’s kidding. “This will now be your job. Once all the animals get used to you, you’ll feed and turn them out each morning, then clean out their stalls.”
I can’t help the involuntary step forward I take in protest. Or the words that spring out of my mouth. “That’s not what I’m here for.”
The only response I get is the lift of that damn eyebrow. Oh, so now Mr. Loquacious is going to go back to clamming up.
I lift my gloved hands and gesture all around us at the stinking barn. “I did not sign on to be some freaking ranch hand!” I toss my pitchfork to the ground for emphasis.
“You keep bringing this up—” His voice is chilly as he takes a step toward me and places his foot on the pitchfork I just tossed to the barn floor in my little rant. “—What you did and did not agree to in coming here. It was my understanding that your father was in dire circumstances. I was the only one in the entire world offering to help him. One might think you’d show some gratitude to the man who saved your father’s life. Your father,” his eyes narrow and his jaw tenses, “who was, by the way, busy stealing the pensions of thousands of honest, hardworking people.”
By the end of this small speech, I remember that oh shit, right, while I might have been lulled by the sight of the sweet horse whisperer I’ve been witnessing all day, this man can also go stone cold. And things don’t always go pleasantly for me when that happens.
“Right,” I grit my own teeth, looking at the floor and seeing bits of hay that I missed while sweeping. Oh my gosh, I’ve only been at this one day, and I already hate mucking out stalls with the fire of a thousand suns.
“Fine.” I kick petulantly at the stupid hay, scattering it over the ground.
Almost immediately, Xavier’s hand is underneath my chin, lifting my head so that I meet his gaze. “What I mean is that you need to abandon all your expectations. You are here now. For the time being, nothing else matters. It is you and me, and when the time is right,” his hand drops low on my abdomen, “the child.”
He says it all with such certainty. Like he has decided how everything will go in his universe and thus it will be so.
“Now, on your knees.” He nods behind me. “Elbows on the bench.”
I feel my eyes widen as I swing around to look at where he’s indicating. There is indeed a bench along the back wall of the horse stalls, near the spigot and deep basin sink where we do washing and fill up the horse water buckets.
He’s got to be… joking.
But with a sinking stomach, I know he’s not. How many times have I had that thought since meeting this man? Never once has any of the outrageous requests he’s made been a joke.
Just once it’d be really great if he could break that record. I turn back to him to check if maybe this time…?
Nope, the serious expression on his face tells me all I need to know.
Sighing, I turn around. Right before I can get to my knees on the hard concrete, Xavier tosses a horse blanket down.
Ever the gentleman. So I get to crouch on a horse blanket while he, what? Fucks me doggie style in a dirty barn?