Hours later—after checking on the twins, finishing my paperwork, refilling water buckets for three horses, and checking on the twins again—I slide into bed. I’m bloody exhausted, but my mind won’t quiet. It bounces from Parker to the upcoming Masters Cup to tomorrow’s chore list and I’m almost grateful when my cell vibrates with an incoming call.
I check the screen and sigh. My mam. No doubt she wants an update on the twins. I thumb the answer button, already grinning. “Mam, this is an almost downright reasonable hour. Do you want to wait until I’m asleep and call back?”
“The cheek of you, I swear. I wanted to hear how you were doing. Is that such a bad thing?”
“Not at all. Tell me how you’re doing first though.” I lean back against my headboard and study the patch of night sky visible
