Time is flying by...

It seems having a baby in the family is the easiest way to notice how fast time is flying by.  They grow so fast. This week, my new granddaughter laughed for me! So much fun. I didn't realize she hadn't laughed yet for her mom, but at least I got a photo of it! 

I'm also overjoyed to have gotten my tax return done and filed almost a week early! That doesn't happen very often. I have no idea why it seems like human nature to wait for the last second to get important things done!  Are you a procrastinator or one of those organized folks who have their returns filed within weeks of the new year? 

Book news is chugging along. German Alohas released last week, and French Farradays release this week.  I'm pedaling as fast as I can! So far, I think Sweet devotion is coming along nicely.  

Here's a sneak peek - You might recognize a few folks from a favorite series. 

“Don’t pull him.”  Colleen Gleeson forced an easy smile.

The woman’s hands tightened anyway. The gelding lifted his head, ears flicking back, then forward, reading everything the rider hadn’t said out loud.
Colleen stepped in without breaking stride, one hand settling lightly against the woman’s calf, the other brushing her wrist. “Loosen it.”
“I am.”
She didn’t argue. They took two more steps. The horse drifted off the line, shoulder edging out, testing. Colleen adjusted the rider’s leg, just enough to shift her weight back where it belonged. “Again.”
The woman exhaled this time. Not much, but enough. The reins softened. The gelding’s head dropped a fraction.
“There.”
They moved forward, slow and even, dust rising under each step. The rhythm settled in—one beat, then the next—until the tension bled off and what had been work started to look like something easier. Even though it wasn’t.
Colleen walked beside them, close enough to correct, far enough not to interfere. This was it. Her last day under the tutelage of Hannah Farraday Johnson. Though not that much older than Colleen, Hannah had a reputation throughout all of Texas, the neighboring states, and often beyond, for running one of the best equine therapy operations. In the case of her uncle Connor Farraday, well, the man was known as the best horse breeder and trainer from shore to shore. If there was such a thing as a horse whisperer, Connor had that skill in spades.
Her wristwatch buzzed. Time was up. She cued the horse to halt with a shift of her weight and a quiet word. Her patient eased to a stop and sat for a moment before swinging down, landing with more confidence than she had a month ago, steadying herself briefly against the saddle before stepping away on her own.
"Good session," Colleen smiled.
“You’ll be meeting with me again next week.” Grinning as though she’d won the largest cupie doll at the state fair, Hannah strolled up.
The woman nodded, turned to Colleen and offering the first sincere smile Colleen had seen from her, spoke softly. “Thank you.” Without another word, she nodded and Hannah and limped away. To Colleen’s satisfaction, not nearly as pronounced as it had been when Colleen first arrived three months ago.
“We wish you could stay.” Hannah handed the horse’s reins over to one of the stable workers.
“I have to admit,” she fell into step with Hannah toward the main house. “I’ve been tempted.”
“But not enough.” There was no censure in Hannah’s tone, not even a hint of optimism.
“Honeysuckle is home. Between school, training, licensing, getting my hours, and… well, here,” she waved arm across the expanse of the Farraday operation, “I’m ready to go home.”
“Still planning to hang your own shingle?”
She nodded. “That’s the plan.”
“Horses?”
With a shrug, she tipped her head momentarily to one side. “That may have to wait.” There were certainly plenty of ranches with horse in her neck of Texas, but nothing like the set up Connor Farraday had. Of course, that didn’t mean that maybe some day…
“Have you talked to Alice Sweet? They’ve been doing a lot of improvements over there. Maybe that could work out.”
“Maybe.” She had thought the same thing. After all, it was upon the recommendation of Alice Sweet and in reverence of the Farraday patriarch Sean’s friendship with Charlie Sweet that she’d gotten this chance to train with the best.
At the front of the main house where Colleen had been staying, Hannah eyed the bed of her truck. “You’re all packed?”
“Yeah. I figure it’s like changing Band-Aids, easier in the end to just rip off the old one.
“Ouch.” Hannah cringed but still managed to smile. “So we’re an old bandaid, huh?”
“I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant, as excited as I am to go home, leaving here isn’t going to be easy.”
“Just so you know, you’re welcome any time. As a friend or a therapist. Whatever you want.”
“Thanks.” Colleen leaned forward and gave her new friend a tight hug. “I’ll remember that.”
“You’d better keep in touch!”
“You bet.” She stepped back, climbed into the truck, blew out a big sigh, and started the engine.
Hannah took a step back. Connor came out the front door and stood beside his niece.
She’d already said her goodbyes to Connor and his family after lunch, no point in starting that all over. She lifted her hand, waved at the two smiling Farradays, and pulled away. The windows went down. The radio went up. The gravel of Farraday's long drive crunched under her tires, then gave way to the standard West Texas blacktop.
The truck climbed a low rise and the land opened up the way it did out here — wide and unhurried, the sky taking up more room than anything else, the late sun burning everything copper and amber all the way to the horizon. Now her thoughts turned to her mom and dad, her sister in NEARTOWN, the Saturday afternoon corn hole games in the park, the delicious scents from the candle shop owned by her friend Jillian Sweet, the gossip queen, and everything about Honeysuckle that made her smile.
Resisting the urge to grab her phone and spent a good chunk of the drive chatting away with her sister, she rolled down the window a little further, let the warm air come in, and with a smile as wide as the Rio Grande, drove toward home.
How's that? Surprised? 

On the not so happy note, my cataract surgery I mentioned is postponed until July - why you ask- Would it surprise you if I said- a broken elevator? 

Yep - the elevator is broken and won't be fixed for six weeks. I'd have to walk up two flights of stairs every week for several weeks and since I couldn't breathe when I got to the top of the stairs we agreed, waiting was best. 

okay, that's it for this week, I have another busy week ahead and will post photos of the house reno then! 
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