“Was there a reason she couldn't just email them?” This time it’s Thomas’ turn to snort.
“What, Tom, spit it out! I’m still not firing on all cylinders,” Dad snarls grumpily, which I still think is adorable. At least since it’s not directed at me, anyway. He's like a baby bear who’s just woken up. “And I call dibs on the first cup. Privilege of being the one who paid for the coffee maker.” He eyes the coffee machine like it’s the holy grail, so I’m guessing I come by my fondness for coffee legitimately.
Thomas, or I guess Tom, pulls out his gun and shoves it on the counter before crossing his arms and leaning against it, facing Dad. “Well, Dad,” he parrots, “that woman has been trying to get into your pants for a while now, and you're too damn oblivious to notice. Anything she can do to get you to notice her is fair game as far as she’s concerned.”
Silence fills the kitchen as I watch Dad process Tom's words. He seems to stumble over them before he takes a deep breath and gets his thoughts sorted. “I havenevershown that woman anything but professional courtesy,'' he defends himself. “In fact, haven't I always taught you kids never to mix business and pleasure?” Tom flinches a little at this, and Dad stands up, going over to him. “Tom, no, I'm sorry. That’s not how I meant it. What Clarissa did wasnotyour fault.” He pulls him into a hug, and I see Tom shudder before pushing Dad away and reaching for the mugs I’d laid out. Turning his back to us, he pours four mugs of coffee now that the machine has finished.
“Just be careful, Dad. That woman has a goal, and being dressed in white with you waiting at the end of the aisle features heavily.” Tom passes us a mug each, his face devoid of all emotion again while Dad practically grasps at non-existent pearls.
“She’s not much older than Harlow! That's just gross.” It’s Dad’s turn to shudder before he blows on his coffee. With a sigh, he takes a sip and then grimaces. “Ugh, where’s the milk and sugar, Tom?” He gets up and heads for the fridge, muttering about evil black coffee and how he doesn't know how his boys can drink it like that. I watch in amusement as he liberally doses his coffee with sugar and milk then offers them to me. I don't care how I have my coffee. I can drink it both ways, but today I’ll be grateful for a little extra kick in the way of sugar.
I doctor mine and then pick up the other mug. “Does Declan take it black?”
“Yep, just like his soul,” Tom jokes, shooting me a small wink and smile. My mouth drops open in surprise at his humor.
“You're taking him a cup?” Dad asks in surprise, a hopeful look on his face.
I shrug. “Yeah, Princess is in my bedroom, having her kittens, and he’s supervising, so I offered to bring him a cup.”
“He didn't ask for your help?” Dad questions, causing Thomas to frown.
“Why would he need her help? He’s been through this a few times with previous Princesses.”
Dad rolls his eyes and opens his mouth, likely going to spill about my career, but I quickly stop him. “I'm sure you're right, Tom. Declan and Princess don't need any help.” I cross my fingers that it stays that way. It's become a bit of a game for me now. How long can the Summers siblings be totally oblivious, assuming I’m nothing more than a horse trainer? Though if she seems to be having problems, of course I'll step in. Animals first, always. No one-up on the Summers siblings is worth putting pretty Princess at any kind of risk.
I wave goodbye, but before I can get far, Dad pipes up. He seems to be a bit more together now that the coffee has hit his system. “Harlow, are we still on for that ride?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. I need to work the horses once more before we take them tomorrow, so a ride across the estate will help loosen them and get some energy out before having to truck them tomorrow.” Dad beams at me, all signs of grumpy bear gone.
“Let's have lunch and set out a little later this afternoon. That gives us all a chance to wake up after last night’s late one, and it will be cooler too.”
Tom’s frowning as he pushes off where he’s been leaning against the counter. “Are you sure that's a good idea after yesterday?” He looks between the two of us with a concerned crease in his brow.
“Well, why don't you come with us if you're so worried?” Dad suggests. “Maybe the rest of your brothers would like to too, maybe even Jacinta. It’s been a while since we all went for a family ride. Everyone has been so busy, and I miss having you all around at the same time.” Dad has a pout on his face, and I can tell by the way Tom's shoulders sag that he feels guilty. He misses the slight gleam in Dad’s eye and the quick grin that crosses his face when Tom agrees, our devious dad quickly reining it in when he sees me watching.Hmm, that didn't seem the least bit rehearsed.
He slowly winks at me, and I hide my chuckle as I leave the kitchen. That man is the king of manipulation. He’s got his kids figured out, and it looks like I’ve quickly joined those ranks. Dad’s got my weakness completely right. So long as animals are involved, I won’t argue about him meddling.
My mom’s manipulations had always been a hit you over the head, in your face style that left at least one party, usually me, bruised in more than one way. I’m not used to this gentle, well-meaning manipulation that leads more often to laughter or family bonding than personal trauma, but I think I can live with this scenario. I much prefer everything about Dad’s approach to parenting, even if it results in more time with the Summers siblings.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Harlow
Princess had four adorable kittens by the time lunch was over, and Declan was as proud as punch as he animatedly told everyone who would listen all about the whole process. He also passed around his phone which was full of pictures of the four cute fluff butts. All were resting nicely in my room in their enclosure, so I guess I’ll be seeing a bit more of him. I know enough about his relationship with his cat to know that he won’t be content to just leave me in charge of them. He put a litter box and some food and water in it for Princess and left them be for the time being.
When I went back to my phone, I found messages from both Hope and Alex, scolding me for not calling and telling them about what happened last night. Jesus, how did they find out so quickly? I'm assuming Holden told Hope, but who told Alex? I send them both quick messages telling them I will call tonight before doing a little careful stretching to assess how my leg is feeling. The aftershocks that had bothered me after falling off Samson and getting pushed into the pool have calmed, and right now I’m feeling pretty good. So long as I don’t have any rough landings today, I think I’ll be in a nice recovery zone. I’m a little surprised it’s not sore after all that dancing, but maybe Holden has some kind of magic touch.That’s definitely not something we can get into right now,my brain lectures. Once my head’s out of the gutter and stretches are taken care of, I get changed into my riding clothes and head out.
As I make my way to the stables, I’m waylaid by a braying sound, and with a smile, my eyes search for my two favorites. They’re grazing in a paddock in the warm sun, and thankfully, Jenny and DS look no worse for wear after yesterday's ordeal. Pulling a carrot that I’d stolen from the fridge out of my pocket, I snap it in half, the sound making DS look up from her patch of grass. Happily, she trots over to where I am, Jenny not far behind. Holding the carrot in my flat hand, I feed one to each of them before giving them a pat and continuing on my way.
When I get there, the stable is a flurry of movement. Every one of my adopted brothers is there and so is Jacinta. Each person is in charge of tacking up a horse under the supervision of Luke and Josh.
“Morning, Harlow, looks like you’ve got a lot of volunteers today. Luke and I are going to be out of a job,” Josh jokes, grabbing the saddle that Luke passes him and lifting it onto Delilah's back.
Luke’s face looks a little strained. I guess he must be worried about what Chuck will say if he doesn’t help me. “Don't worry, Luke, I’ll let Chuck know that you got outvoted,” I joke, and his eyes widen with concern before he brushes it off.
“No need for that, Harlow. I know he won't mind.” He puts his head down and continues to help with the tacking up.
Everyone has a horse in front of them except Jacinta. She just seems to be helping, but then her palomino sticks her head out of the stall, and I remember. She can't ride her at the moment.
