“When we first got the ranch, I was out there with all the men. Loved it. I still did a few chores here and there as I got older, then my husband passed away and it just wasn’t as much fun. I like helping the girls, now. Louanne lets me tag along for the wedding planning and she says I’ve gotten pretty good with the floral arrangements.”
“Well, thank you so much. I’m sure these beautiful boots will be much better than my Keds. I wore galoshes on the farm, but these are so much prettier.”
“You’re welcome, honey. It’s just good to see a spunky young woman doing ranch work again. I’ve missed that.” With a smile and a wave, Alice was off to the Mess Hall.
I sat down on a nearby bench, pulling off my sneakers. Luckily, I had worn skinny jeans, and the first boot slipped right onto my foot and over my calf. It was a perfect fit. I was so immersed in putting the second boot on, I didn’t notice Brody approaching until he was seated beside me on the bench.
“Nice boots, cowgirl. Where’d you get those?”
My face burned. Alice must not have told Brody she was giving me her old boots—I hoped he didn’t mind. “I uh… I think your mom felt sorry for me for being dumb enough to bring the wrong footwear,” I said, nudging the Keds with the tip of my new-to-me boots. “She said I could have them, but I’m sure they are just a loaner. I’ll return them after today and get my own,” I added hurriedly.
Again, I couldn’t read the look on Brody’s face. A mix of tension and something else sat in his jaw, his dark eyes distant.
“Brody—I can return them now if—”
“No, no. They look good on you. A perfect fit. It’s just that—well, my mama’s real sweet but she’s shy and she usually takes her time getting to know people. She must have really taken a liking to you to give you her boots.”
Overwhelmed by his statement, I said, “I can return them.”
“Don’t. It would break her heart. If my mama gives a gift, she means it. It made her happy to give them to you, otherwise she wouldn’t have.” He gave me a smile that looked as if he was mystified by my presence, like I had put a spell on ‘his mama’ to get the gorgeous boots and retire the Keds. “They look real nice, Georgia. Keep them—please.”
The smile that spread across his face melted my heart into a little puddle in my chest. It was hopeless—I was definitely ‘in like’ with Brody. And whatever was developing between us was more than a working relationship.
* * *
Brody met me at the barn. “The calf table is just right over there, I’m going to leave you to set up your supplies—all the meds and syringes Dr. Pat will have brought. You just need to get it all lined up, so you can move as quickly as possible. I’m going to go with the guys and start herding the cattle.” Without another word he was gone.
“Okay then, I’m on it,” I said to myself, standing alone, looking around, unsure of where to start. Dr. Pat, a quiet, friendly man in his mid-fifties soon joined me and helped me gather what we would need for the day. I shuddered at the size of his tools, certainly glad I was not in charge of the castrations.
When the calving table was prepared to our liking, Dr. Pat and I left the barn and went to the pasture to watch the sorting of the cattle.
The cows and calves were moving about the corral, slightly confused but altogether not unhappy. Hayes and Colton were each riding a handsome horse, both men with a rope in their hand with the other end tied to a panel of the corral. The horses dragged the corral fencing into a tighter circle. Overlapped pieces made a wide alleyway that led out of the corral.
The now panicked cows took note of the newly formed escape route. Jim, Clarke, and Al stood in the alleyway, letting the cows pass, and turning the calves back to the center of the corral. Bo and Brody stood a few feet from the opening; occasionally, they would rope a calf that had escaped. Travis was nowhere in sight—I guess the second eldest brother hadn’t made it in yet.
To be fair, I tried to take in the graceful movements of each muscular cowboy evenly, but my eyes kept resting on Brody. The way his body moved to action, muscles tensing, a look of intense concentration crossing his face, it was like foreplay. A black Stetson sat on his head, shielding his face from the sun. A real modern-day cowboy.
The team worked as one unit, just as Brody had said. They responded to one another’s one-word shouts, or even a simple nod, often communicating without words. It was as seamless an operation as it could be, considering there were almost a thousand cattle they were dealing with.
Once the babies were all within the makeshift corral, Jim, Al, and Clarke made their exit. Hayes and Colton tugged their ropes once more, tightening the circle even more.
Brody signaled to Colton to join him in the corral. Al and Clarke held the gate while Hayes rode into the center of the calves. Then, Clarke stayed guard by the gate of the corral while Al joined the others. Hayes laid a loop of rope just before a little brown and white calf’s hind legs. The calf stepped forward, Hayes pulled the rope and with Brody leading, the men quickly pulled the calf onto his right side. Then Brody took the electric brander and held it to the calf’s left shoulder. There was a disgruntled moo, then the cow was let up. Branding was nowhere near as bad as I had imagined. The rope was tied around his neck and Al led the calf to the gate, where Clarke took hold of it.
“That’s our cue. We need to get back to our station. Clarke’s bringing our first patient,” Dr. Pat said. I followed him to the barn.
Clarke approached with the little brown and white calf. Sizing me up, Clarke asked, “Ready, ma’am?”
“I’m stronger than I look, Clarke. I’ve done my own wrestling at my old job. Not with cattle, but in Boise the trend was for people to get large breeds. I’ve handled Mastiffs, Great Danes, some weighing almost what a calf weighs.”
Clarke gave me a curious smile. “Alright then, ma’am. I’ll just put this one down the chute for you and you can get started.”
Clarke pushed the brown and white calf I had taken to calling ‘Patches’ in my mind, down the chute. Locking the head gate, Patches was securely in place. I helped Clarke turn the contraption and Patches was now lying on her side, like a patient at the Vet and Pet. Time for my debut.
Coming around to Patches’ head, I pet her soft, velvety nose. “It’s okay, little one,” I crooned. “This will only pinch a minute, but it’s going to keep you safe.” I quickly tagged her soft brown ear while she watched me curiously with those huge black eyes. I made sure the tag was secure, before picking up the first syringe under Dr. Pat’s watchful eye.
The injection was a seven-way clostridial vaccine, the second syringe held a modified live virus vaccine to prevent bovine respiratory disease. Both were the same I had recommended to Maggie for her cattle during my internship. “One more thing. Just a prick here.” I stuck the calf and she protested, then Pat handed me the second syringe. “And a prick here.”
Gently, I thoroughly looked over the entire calf. “Patches is as healthy as a horse!” I declared to Pat after my examination.
“Patches?” Dr. Pat grinned.
“I can’t help but to name them.”
“Don’t get too attached. But you did very well, Georgia. CLAS is lucky to have you aboard,” the vet told me.
I hoped Brody thought so, too.
The calves came in a steady stream, the sun rising in the sky as the morning wore on. I found one calf with what appeared to be a fractured femur, but I would have to get an x-ray to be sure. Alice came by offering sandwiches for lunch, but I had no appetite. Grabbing a sweet tea from her—the first one I’d ever had—I thanked her then moved on with my work.
Seeing that I could handle my own, Pat left me to begin his ‘ball chop,’ as he referred to it. Swigging down the ice-cold tea, I cleaned off the calf table while I waited for my next patient.
Hearing footsteps approaching, I looked up to find Brody striding toward me, a concerned look on his face. In his hand was something wrapped in wax paper. It must be Alice’s sandwich I
had turned down earlier.
“How’s it going, Georgia? Everything okay?”
“Sure is, Brody. Only found one injury so far. Brownie’s going to need an x-ray to figure out if we are working with a fracture or a break, and Chipper has what looks to be early signs of pneumonia but otherwise—”
“Good, good,” he nodded distractedly. He raised a brow to me. “Hey, listen, did you eat lunch?”
“Uh, no. I wasn’t hungry. Your mom offered, but I just had a tea. First time I’ve experienced sweet tea and—” Seeing the sandwich in his hand, I felt the tiniest wave of anger as I put two and two together. “Wait a minute—did you actually ask your mother if I took one of her sandwiches or not?”
“Maybe,” he said with a sheepish grin, holding the food out toward me.
“I’m sure it’s delicious, but it’s hot out here, breakfast was huge, and I’m just not hungry.”
“I know you worked on a farm, but this is a more intense day. You need nourishment.” The sandwich inched closer to me. First breakfast, now this? The controlling nature of this hot, heavy-handed cowboy was getting on my nerves. Be it the heat, fatigue, or what, I was getting a tad fiery.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stood firm. “I will eat when I want to eat. You might be the boss of this ranch, but you aren’t the boss of my food intake.”
He stared me down in disbelief I wasn’t taking the food from him, that I wasn’t obeying him.
A moment passed, my body language making it clear to him I would not be commanded to eat when I wasn’t even hungry. Clearing his throat, he said, his voice softer, “Will you please eat, for me, Georgia? The truth is if I know you’re only running off breakfast, I’ll be worried about you all day.”
My exterior softened. He cared about me, enough to worry. Holding out my hand, I took the sandwich from him. “I’ll have half, okay? Will that make you feel better?”
“Undoubtedly it would. You’re a real peach, Gee Whatever,” he said with a wink. Turning on his heel, he took off, whistling as he went.
Somehow the dreaded ‘peach’ reference attached to my new nickname—trust me, by middle school the peach jokes had gotten old—sounded… sexy coming from Brody. Maybe one day I’d even let him have a taste of this Georgia pea—Clarke was headed my way with another calf. I got back to work.
* * *
That evening I was covered in more grime than I had ever been on Maggie’s farm. There was hay in my hair, filth all over my clothing, and even a smear of blood on my forearm. Alice’s boots still looked good—thankfully—and I was more than grateful for them. My little white Keds were no match for ranch life.
Dinner was set for seven, sharp, and after having only a half a sandwich for lunch—Alice’s homemade chicken salad was on point—I was not intending on being late. My stomach growled as I headed into my cabin for a shower, planning on emptying the water heater tank.
I opened the door of the cabin to be surprised by a bouquet of pale pastel tulips in a cut-glass vase. “These are beautiful,” I murmured, heart fluttering as I read the little white card sticking up from the flowers. Why had Brody given me flowers?
To Georgia. Welcome to the team! Very Best, CLAS staff. My heart sank right down into my second-hand boots. “Silly Georgia, what did you expect? Romeo to declare his love to you just because you got your butt spanked and a kiss on your forehead?” Groaning, I began to peel off my filthy clothes. God, was I ready for that shower.
What had gotten into me? Just a few days ago I was mooning over my ex-boyfriend. Now, I was crushing on a man I had known for about twenty-four hours. One who had punished me, spanked me, and made me eat my breakfast. Tugging too hard at the elastic band in my ponytail, I yelled, “Ouch!” as it split open, snapping my hand. My hair tumbled over my shoulders.
“You okay in there?” There was a knock at the door to accompany the voice.
“Shit,” I said, looking down at my naked body. Grabbing the largest towel, I could find—one of Regina’s I had accidentally stolen in the move—I wrapped it around myself, calling, “Just a minute!”
I checked my reflection in the mirror. There was a dirt streak on my left cheek and my hair was a wreck. The beautiful tulips seemed to tease me in the reflection over my shoulder, the words from the card Very Best, CLAS staff imprinted in my mind. “Fuck it. He doesn’t care what I look like. He doesn’t like me like me.” How very third grade of me. If I stayed on this immature pathway, I knew I’d soon be pulling petals from the tulips, pathetically reciting, he loves me, he loves me not.
Hurrying to the door, I bumped my shin, hard, on the stupid corner of the bed. “Oh, for fuckety fuck, fuck’s sake!” I grabbed my shin, dancing around, my towel falling to the floor.
“You alright in there? Georgia?”
“Yes! Be right there!”
Rewrapping the towel around me as tightly as it would go, I finally made it to the door.
I opened it just a tiny crack, peeking out. Brody stood on the porch, freshly showered in a pale blue denim button-down shirt. Hot daaaaaaaaaaamn—
“You okay?” He looked curiously at the tiny sliver of my face that was showing in the crack of the open door. “I heard a lot of cussing in there. I have to tell you—that’s a spankable offense here on the ranch.”
Nipples tightening underneath my terry-cloth towel, I protested, “What? This is the first I’m hearing—”
“I’m just teasing, Georgia. But if you’d ever like me to help you clean up that potty mouth of yours, I’d be more than happy to. Just say the word.”
“I’m perfectly fine, thank you. May I help you with something? I was hoping to get this grime off me before dinner.”
“Just wanted to tell you something before we get up to the Mess Hall. With all the folks, it’ll be so loud in there we won’t be able to hear each other talk.”
“Okay.” My heart fluttered in anticipation.
“Great job, today. Dr. Pat was very impressed with you. Suggested you hit the books and get that veterinarian degree.”
“I’ll think about it.” Underneath the towel, my naked skin was starting to feel hot and prickly at the proximity of Brody’s rock-hard body. I needed him to leave before I made a fool of myself, dropping my towel and throwing my buck-naked self into his muscular arms. Hmmm… might have to save that fantasy for ole Jack later tonight…
“Did you get the flowers?” he asked, peering over my shoulder into the cabin.
“Oh—yes. They are beautiful. Please tell the CLAS staff thank you for me.”
“We do those for all the new employees, well, the female ones anyway.” He shuffled his foot, almost nervously. Why wasn’t he leaving already?
“Brody, I don’t want to be rude, but I really must shower if I’m going to make it to dinner.”
“I’ll let you go. I just came down here to tell you what an excellent job you did.”
“Thank you. It means a lot—”
His deep brown eyes locked on mine. “And ask you if I might walk you to dinner.” There was no grin on his face, just a look that I read as… hopeful.
My heart skipped a beat. “I think that would be… nice. Thank you.”
Relief washed over his face, his smile returning. “I’ll just wait here on the porch, if that’s okay.”
“Okay. See you in a sec.” I shut the door, letting my towel drop to the floor. “Oh, my God,” I whispered to myself, a silly grin covering my entire face.
I ran to the shower, turning on the water almost as hot as it would go. Jumping in, lathering up my aching muscles underneath the steaming water, I was more than aware that Brody was just on the other side of the front door. It felt almost naughty to be showering with him on my porch. I would have enjoyed the feeling longer, but dinner was soon and there was a hot cowboy waiting to walk me to it.
Scrubbing my hair with my lavender-scented shampoo, I rinsed all the suds from my hair and body. Towel drying off as fast as I could, I slipped into my white cotton panties
and bra, the panties bringing back a flash of Starla’s curvy bare, pink bottom with her white cotton panties around the tops of her thighs—God, if I earned another spanking would it be on the bare?—then threw on clean jeans and a fitted tee shirt.
“Whew!” I quickly ran a brush through my hair, then whipped it into a long, fishtail braid. There was no time to even think about a blow-dryer. Three coats of mascara and I was ready to go.
Shoes. The Keds sat next to Alice’s boots by the front door. Which to choose? When in Rome—I grabbed the boots, hopping on one foot as I pulled the first one on, then the second.
“Ready!” I called.
The door swung open, Brody standing on the porch.
“You clean up nice.”
“Thank you,” I said, walking past him and trying not to blush. There was a gentle tug on the end of my braid.
“I like. How’d you manage to do that yourself?”
“My friend Regina taught me. We used to eat ice cream and watch endless hair tutorials on YouTube.” Back in the good old days before I became a lush.
He pulled the door shut behind me. “May I?” he asked, holding the crook of his arm out to me.
“Such a gentleman,” I crooned, locking arms with him. The contact of our bodies sent an electric tingle through me, but also a warm sense of protection and comfort.
We made our way down the stairs.
“You sure made an impression on Patrick today.”
“Who’s Patrick?” I racked my brain of all the people that had been on the ranch and couldn’t remember a Patrick.
“Dr. Pat?”
“Right. Silly me. It was a pleasure to work beside him. He taught me a few tricks to keep the calves calm—they don’t even make a peep when he sticks them. I’d love to work alongside him again.”
“Have you ever put any thought into that program he mentioned? He seemed to think it would be a great move for you. What all does it require?”
“It’s not that common for vet techs to go back to school to become veterinarians. I have the two years of prerequisite classes to apply to vet school—but it would mean another four years of college.”
His Ranch, His Rules Page 10