Southern Secrets (Southern #7) - Natasha Madison Page 0,8
say my grandfather is not too pleased with it. "I set off the sprinklers last time I opened his iPad."
"I’ll teach you, Grandpa." I kiss his cheek. "Let me go and get you something to eat."
I start to get up, and he gets up with me. "If I don’t tell your grandmother I’m here, I’ll never hear the end of it."
We walk into the house together, and my grandmother comes over and gives him a hug. He doesn’t stay to eat. Instead, he grabs some food to take to the men.
I kiss everyone goodbye at midnight and make my way home. I don’t bother catching a ride. Instead, I walk in the field. The same field I grew up in. I bet if you blindfolded us all, we would still know how to get to our houses.
The warm breeze blows softly as I walk up the back steps of my house. My little, small house that I bought without my parents knowing.
I press the keypad, and the door clicks open. I make my way to the couch and sit down for a second. Laying my head back, I close my eyes for just a minute. Or so I thought.
The soft alarm makes my eyes spring open as I jump off the couch and grab my phone from the coffee table. I turn the alarm off and scroll to see if anyone has texted me.
The last text I got was from Chelsea at three.
Chelsea: Mayson just got home. Fire is finally out.
I don’t bother answering her in case she’s sleeping. Instead, I close my eyes for just a couple of seconds before I roll off the couch and walk toward my bedroom. My whole body feels like it was run over by a semi. I pull my shirt over my head and throw it in the dirty laundry before starting the shower.
Slipping off my jeans, I get into the shower and put my head back. I still smell of smoke, and I was only there for a short time. I close my eyes, and all I can see is the barn again. All I can see is the fire. I can’t believe that this nightmare is my reality. I put my hands on my face as I sob into them silently.
Getting out, I dress in another pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then slide on my worn boots. I walk out of the house and see that the sun is slowly coming up. It takes me two minutes to get to the barn, and when I get there, I’m surprised to see the lights on.
The smell of coffee hits me as soon as I walk into the barn, and I almost groan. "Good morning," I say to no one in particular. I hear the sound of hay moving when I see Willow stick her head out of her horse's stall.
"Good morning," she says, looking just like I feel. "You’re here early."
I look over at the clock and see that it’s not even past five. "Couldn’t sleep," I say. "Figured I’d get here and bang out the paperwork in case I need to help with deliveries." I walk to my office and open the door. I toss my keys on the desk and turn around to go to the coffee machine.
I walk out and spot Quinn. "Hey," I say, surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?"
He chuckles, and then I hear Willow from behind him walking to us. "That is what I asked him, too," she says. I grab my coffee mug off the shelf and fill it to the rim.
"Well, for one …" Quinn says. I turn to look back at him, bringing the hot coffee to my lips. "I own this." He puts his hands on his hips. You can tell from his eyes that he hasn’t slept yet.
When we were growing up, he always had this need to help and nurture, so it was no surprise when he decided to open his own equine therapy farm. I thought he would do well. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to open seven of them. When he opened the first one, he asked me to help him with the paperwork. It was supposed to be for a month until he got up and running. Once that month was over, he asked me to stay on for a couple of months. Needless to say, five years later, I’m still here, and I love every minute of it.