One
Mabel
Lifting the covers over my face, I feel the sunlight already blaring through the windows and straight onto my skin.
Letting out a groan, I pull my arms down in a huff. Shit, I don’t want to get up yet.
Leaning over to the bedside table, I see the time staring at me. Realising the ungodly hour I’ve found myself awake at, I let out another agitated groan as I rub my temples. It’s Thursday morning and I don’t need to be awake for at leastanother hour and a half.
Why am I even awake?
As I lift my hands to my face, rubbing my eyes, I suddenly feel it. The thump of last night’s wine consumption out on the porch.
“Shit-” I muster out as I sit up, pulling the covers off me that I’m completely surrounded in, almost choking me. I’m certainly awake now, with the wonderful June sun beaming through an opening in my curtains.
I’m ninety-nine percent sure I closed those fully to prevent this exact scenario from happening.
Then again, last night’s a tad bit hazy.
I grab my cardigan from the rack in the corner and start walking out my room. Turning left, I decide to take a peek in my daughter’s bedroom; she always leaves the door slightly ajar.
The dim light from the hall lets me see her. Ash blonde hair falls over her face, arms tucked up so tight her hands are holding her head up. A light snore exits her mouth. I find myself smiling to absolutely no one; that girl is dead to the world, dreaming away sweetly.
I head down the hall into the kitchen, almost on a tiptoe so I don’t wake her. I doubt me walking normally would, but to put the mom guilt at bay, I do it anyway.
It is the summer break; she can sleep as long as she likes, and I hope she does.
As I reach the kitchen I head straight for the coffee pot. Clearly, I wasn’t clever enough to prep this last night. Taking the pot from its station, I run the water and grab the coffee from the side. Placing it back into the maker and wait patiently for it to brew.
I need coffee today.
That second bottle was not a good idea.
I feel my head pound at the thought.
Leaning my back against the kitchen counter, I reach for my phone, finding a text from Colter, which is certainly not unusual for this time of the morning. He’s always up and out by sunrise.
Colter: Had to start moving the herd, won’t be in the office today.
Thank God for that.
The man I call my brother tries so hard to help but that same man is better at being a cowboy.
Him and papers do not mix, that I’ve learnt throughmany years of experience, and a lot of ordering fuck ups. Although, I’m convinced he does it purposely to annoy me.
Me; Sure thing, Honeybee ;)
Today might not be so bad after all.
A day free from Colter’s constant beady eyes, asking me all the questions he can think of, putting his two pence in at the job I do so well.
I smirk down at my phone in my hand, awaiting his quick response that usually follows when I call him his unofficial nickname.
I love my big brother, I do. However, he’s better at the doing, and I am better at the planning and sitting my ass at my desk on my laptop, tapping away, being half the brain behind the large operation called my family’s ranch.
Although, I love nothing more than saddling up and getting out there herding the cattle with them.
I couldn’t do it every day; I like my sleep too much and the four a.m. wake up calls do nothing for the bags under my eyes, not to mention the blisters in between my thighs from a saddle rubbing for hours a day.
