She Dreamed of a Cowboy

by Joanna Sims

  Once the cat realized that she was a friend, it stood up, stretched and walked toward her, its long tail straight up in the air.

  “I like to see that you are proud to be you,” Skyler said. “You walk with your tail straight up in the air. Good for you!”

  The kitty cat walked right over to where she was squatting, trilled sweetly and then rubbed up against her several times. Skyler reached out her hand to let the feline sniff her fingers.

  “Where did you come from?” she asked the loving creature. “You don’t have a collar or a tag.”

  The kitty cat trilled again, threw itself down on the ground, rolled, stretched and began to purr loudly. The cat gazed at Skyler with loving eyes and curled its paws in a show of feline affection.

  “You are too sweet, aren’t you?” Skyler stood up. “I wonder if you’re hungry? You look a little skinny.”

  She walked outside of the barn toward the cabin, and when she glanced behind her, the cat was following her, hugging the shrubbery and trotting to keep up.

  “Okay,” Skyler told the kitty. “You stay here and I will get you something to eat.”

  Inside the cabin, Skyler rummaged in the fridge, grabbing some leftover chicken, a plate and a bowl for water. She finished her chore quickly because she was afraid that the cat would leave if she was gone for too long.

  “Oh, good!” Skyler exclaimed when she saw the gray tabby sitting on the porch. “I found something superdelicious for you.”

  The moment she put the chicken down, the cat began to devour it in a way that let Skyler know that it had missed some meals. Next to the plate, Skyler put down the bowl of water.

  The cat seemed to think that Skyler was going to leave and she moved away from the bowl, anxiously following her and leaving the food.

  “I’m just going to sit right here next to you,” Skyler explained, sitting down on the top step of the porch stairs. “You eat. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The kitty ate several bites, then came over to rub up against Skyler for a few moments, then went back to the food. The cat executed this ritual several times until the chicken was gone. After it had cleaned the plate, the cat gratefully climbed into Skyler’s lap and began to purr loudly and contentedly, while gazing up at her with love in its eyes.

  “You’re welcome.” Skyler smiled down at the cat. “I love you, too.

  Skyler was still holding the cat as it fell asleep in her lap when Hunter pulled up.

  “I have a new friend,” she said to the cowboy.

  “That’s one of the rescue cats from the main barn,” Hunter said. “She’s not the strongest mouser, I can tell you that. I don’t think she’s caught one since we’ve had her.”

  “She was starving, I think.”

  “May be why she found her way down here,” Hunter told her. “I’ve seen her try to catch all kinds of insects without any success at all.”

  “Does she have a name?” Skyler rubbed the top of the purring cat’s head.

  “I think Amanda called her Rosy at one time.”

  “I don’t really like that name.”

  “Well, she seems to be yours now,” Hunter said. “Name her what you want.”

  Skyler looked down at the slender, small-boned cat and an image of her mother’s favorite flower popped into her head. “Daisy. I think your name is Daisy.”

  The cat held the eye contact, blinked slowly as a means of communicating love and then meowed.

  Skyler laughed and said to Hunter, “She just agreed with the name.”

  “Okay.” The cowboy’s eyebrows drew down a bit as he checked his phone. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yep.” Skyler gently displaced Daisy. “Now, you stay nearby. I’ll be back later.”

  To Hunter she said, “I need to go into town to get some cat food today.”

  He nodded. As they walked toward the truck, he asked, “Why Daisy?”

  “It was my mom’s favorite flower.”

  “It’s just you and your dad now?”

  Skyler opened the door to the truck and climbed into what she had begun to think of her spot in the copilot’s chair. “My mom passed away when I was nineteen.”

  “Well, I’m real sorry to hear that,” Hunter said.

  “Thank you.”

  As Hunter drove them slowly through her favorite canopy of trees, she asked, “What are we doing today?”

  “Worming cattle.”

  * * *

  Hunter had been taking it easy on Skyler and he’d put some things on the back burner, but some chores couldn’t be delayed and the biannual worming of the cattle was one of those chores. Hunter drove them to a large barn that serviced a smaller herd near the southern property line of the ranch.

  “I love the calves with the white faces,” Skyler said. “They are too cute.”

  “I’m not a fan.”

  “Why not?”

  “Those babies belong to the cleanup bull. Which means we wasted a heck of a lot of money and time.”

  “What’s a cleanup bull?”

  They met each other in front of the truck. “You see, we bought some top-notch semen—”

  “Bought it.”

  “Yes. We bought semen from what we rated as superior bulls and used that semen to artificially inseminate the females who are in heat.”

  “How do you do that?”

  Hunter squinted at her. “You really want to know that?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “Well, you put them in a chute mainly, put on a plastic protective glove that goes up to your bicep, lift up the cow’s tail, stick your hand into the canal... Heck, my arm will go in up past my elbow. Then you slide in this long rod that allows you to inject the semen and then the deed is pretty much done.”

  “You do that?”

  “I have one of the best records in the state for using AI. But just in case the insemination process doesn’t work, we use a cleanup bull to come behind us and try to get it done the old-fashioned way,” Hunter explained.

  “I see.”

  “I do, too.” Hunter nodded toward the babies. “A bunch of offspring of the cleanup bull.”

  That made Skyler laugh, and her face lit up with humor. “All the white-faced babies belong to the cleanup bull?”

  “Every last one of ’em.”

  “He did such a good job.”

  Hunter frowned at what he could only see as a giant waste of money and time. “He brought my batting average way down.”

  Hunter walked to the back of the truck, pulled some premixed wormer solutions in metal spray bottles out of the bed and headed toward the corral. Skyler tagged along after him.

  “Now, you’ve got to watch yourself in the pen with the cows. Even the babies can accidentally knock you over. They wouldn’t mean to do it—they’re docile creatures, but they are strong and heavy.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “See that you are,” he said sternly. “You could get killed.”

  Skyler saluted Hunter behind his back and followed him into the holding pen, where a small group of cows and their babies were held. The smell of cow urine and manure was so strong that it made her gag a little bit. When she stepped inside the pen, her boots sank into the mud and manure, squishing as she walked, and made a sucking noise when she lifted her foot, one at a time, out of the muck.

  Carefully, she picked her way through the cows, smiling at them and talking gently to them. The babies were often curious, coming up to her and trying to nudge her.

  “Hi, sweet baby.” Skyler petted one of the cleanup bull’s babies. “Aren’t you cute?”

  “We are going to herd them into this round pen and then, one by one, spray this solution on their backs, along their spines. This will help with worms and lice.”

  “Lice?” Skyler withdrew her hand quick
ly from the calf.

  Hunter ignored her, focused entirely on moving the cows into the round pen. He waved his arms and walked slowly toward them, herding them into the adjacent pen. Skyler joined him, waving her arms and herding the cows.

  “They all need a bath.” Skyler’s face was wrinkled up from trying to avoid the smell. “Why are they all so dirty?”

  “They’re cows. They live outside. They get dirty.”

  “Ugh.” She made an effort to only breathe through her mouth. “I like them very much, but they are stinky.”

  “It’s the cow manure. It’s got its own particular aroma.”

  “Aroma?” she asked. “That’s an awfully fancy term for what I’m smelling right now.”

  Once they got the cows into the round pen, Hunter handed her a heavy metal spray can. “I’ll get the first in line and you get the second. We’ll get this done double time.”

  Skyler had her mouth hanging open to avoid the smell and managed to suck a fly into her mouth. She squinted her eyes and spat out the fly, then continued spitting until she was convinced that all of the residual fly germs were out of her mouth. She stood upright, looked over at Hunter, who was waiting for her to get to work, and said, “I’m ready now.”

  The job went quickly and, although hot and stinky, it wasn’t terribly difficult. Her arm did ache from using the same spraying motion again and again and her fingers hurt from holding on to the metal spray canister. But, all in all, she was pleased with her work.

  “Now what?” she asked once the last cow was treated.

  “We’ll let them out in the pasture.”

  Skyler wove her way through the mooing, slow-moving cows, and encountered a calf, the smallest of the cleanup bull’s offspring.

  “You know,” she said, “you might be a little stinky, but I still love you.”

  The calf rubbed against her and nuzzled her hand. Skyler bent down to hug the calf. Then something startled the calf, perhaps the sound of Hunter opening the gate, but it bolted to the side and Skyler fell backward with a loud thud and a definitive splat.

  Chapter Seven

  “Uh!” Her entire backside was covered in the manure-mud mixture. Her arms, her hands, the back of her head, her neck, the back of her pants and shirt—Skyler’s whole body was covered with the slimy, stinky concoction. Her hat had fallen off her head and had been pressed into the mud by the calf.

  “Oh, no.” Skyler pushed herself up to a standing position, her entire hand immersed in the muck. “Oh.”

  “Are you all right?” Hunter had seen her fall and rushed to her side.

  “Am I all right?” she snapped, holding her arms and hands out from her body like she was a scarecrow. “No! I’m not all right. Look at me!”

  A family of flies were buzzing around her, trying to land on her clothing and her hair. “Get away from me, flies!”

  Skyler swung her arms in the air, trying to dissuade the annoying insects from landing on her. She didn’t know what to do; she was a mess. A stinky, terrible mess.

  “What am I going to do? How am I going to get home?” She raised her voice, squishing her way to the gate that would take her out of the paddock. “I can’t get in your truck like this.”

  “No,” Hunter said with a smirk on his face.

  “Quit laughing at me!” she snapped, waving her arms to move the flies away from her.

  “I’m not laughing.”

  “Yes, you are.” She complained, “I’m covered in manure and you’re laughing at me instead of helping me.”

  “Okay,” the cowboy said, trying to look serious. “We have a couple of choices.”

  “Which are?” She narrowed her eyes at him impatiently.

  “First, you could just ride in the back of the truck and we’ll get you home that way.”

  “Option one, I stay covered in manure and ride in the back of your truck. I can’t wait to hear option two.”

  “We hose you off.”

  “Hose me off?”

  “It’s an option.”

  Skyler couldn’t stand the thought of spending one more second in her current condition. “Fine. Where’s the hose?”

  As they walked together back toward the barn, Hunter, she noticed, kept a safe distance from her.

  “I should hug you right now,” she said, swerving toward him.

  Hunter laughed and tacked to the right, away from her. “I did tell you to be careful. What were you doing?”

  “Hugging one of the cleanup bull’s calves.”

  Hunter turned on the hose and let the hot water run out.

  “Wash my hands and arms first. Please.” Skyler held out her hands, wanting to get them clean ASAP.

  The cowboy followed her directive and washed off her hands and arms first before he began the chore of rinsing off her neck and back.

  “That’s cold,” Skyler complained again, jumping around as the frigid water hit her skin and soaked her clothing.

  “I don’t remember telling you to hug the calves.”

  “You didn’t say not to hug them.” Skyler scowled at him.

  “I kind of thought that might be a given,” he said, his voice laced with humor at her expense. “Cover your face with your hands so I can get the back of your head.”

  When he was done with his chore, her clothes were completely soaked and water dripped from her onto the ground.

  “I’m soaking wet!”

  “That’s the physics of water,” he said seriously, but she could see a pleased smirk lingering on his face.

  “I can’t get into your truck like this.” She bemoaned her current state of being. Now she was wet and squishy; the material of her jeans was sticking to her skin, and she felt cold and clammy.

  “No.”

  She stared up at him. “You want me to ride in the back of your truck, don’t you?”

  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Would you mind? I just had the inside cleaned.”

  “I’m soaking wet here!” When she waved her arms, droplets of water flew out around her.

  “I think I have a towel in the truck,” he said, as if he’d just remembered.

  She followed behind him, her wet socks slushing inside her boots. He fished a towel out of one of the large toolboxes in the bed of his truck.

  She took it gratefully, wiping off her hands, arms and face first. She rubbed the towel over her short hair then she tried to sop up some of the water that was in her tank top and jeans.

  “I still reek like cow manure.” She sniffed herself.

  “Yes, you do,” he agreed, too readily for her liking.

  “And I’m wet.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  After a second or two of thought, she said, “Take off your shirt.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t act scandalized, Hunter. You heard me. Take off your shirt and then turn around. I’m getting out of these clothes.”

  Hunter’s lips quirked up into a half smile and his electric blue eyes sparkled with humor. She could only imagine the things he wanted to say, the sexual innuendos just dying to get out. But, to his credit, he kept them to himself.

  Hunter tugged his shirttail loose from his jeans and began to unbutton his shirt. The first couple of buttons exposed the smooth skin of his chest, which was a couple of shades lighter than the skin at his neck, and then the next buttons revealed the top of his six-pack abs. The man must do sit-ups in his spare time or something, she thought to herself before she realized, too late, that she was blatantly staring at him while he undressed.

  Hunter shrugged out of his plaid button-down shirt, then offered it to her and slowly took his own sweet time turning around.

  “Thank you.” She took the shirt and then scurried behind the truck.

  “Oh, this feels terrible.” She pulled off her tank top and
bra, watching Hunter to make sure he didn’t turn around and catch her in the buff.

  She quickly slipped on his shirt, noticing that the shirt held Hunter’s woodsy, salty scent. It was a smell that made her senses tingle in the nicest of ways. Next, she pulled off her boots and stood in her socks while she fought to push her wet jeans over her hips and thighs.

  “Come on!” she grunted, tugging and pushing and struggling until she was finally able to yank off the jeans.

  Her underwear was damp but not completely wet or ruined by the manure. She left them on and tied the towel around her waist like a bathing-suit wrap. Leaving her socks on, she scooped up her dirty clothes and tossed them into the bed of the truck.

  “Okay,” she said, coming around the side of the truck. “You can turn around now.”

  Hunter turned around, swept his eyes up and down her body in a way that made her believe that he was looking at her, maybe for the first time, like a woman, and not like his little sister. He smiled at her.

  “You look good in my shirt.”

  She had to be blushing; no doubt about it. “My hat is ruined.”

  Hunter opened the door to his truck so she could climb in. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll get you a new one.”

  * * *

  “Hunter!” A silky female voice saying his name caught his attention. “I was just talking about you.”

  Hunter turned around to see Brandy McGregor walking through the doors of the Four Corners Saddlery tack shop.

  Brandy, her shiny brunette hair worn long and loose, framing her stunning face, made a beeline for him. She wasn’t wearing a mask.

  “This is a real treat. All we’ve had since I’ve gotten back were phone calls and video dates.” His pretty neighbor pouted her full lips, drawing attention to them deliberately, he was sure.

  Brandy threw her arms around him affectionately and hugged him tightly. “You know, Dustin has been asking me out but I told him that you had already beat him to the front of the line.”

  “I’ve been real busy.” Hunter adjusted the bandanna over his mouth. He could see Skyler watching them out of the corner of his eye.

  “I know.” Brandy made a frustrated noise. “It’s not your fault Jock’s making you babysit this summer.” She reached out and tugged playfully on his sleeve. “Why don’t you make an excuse—tell Jock that we need your help over at Boulder Ridge and we can sneak off and have ourselves a little fun.”