I jerked to a stop as soon as I rounded the corner. “Damn it, Daisy,” I snapped, slamming my hands down on my hips. “I’ve told you a thousand times, that doggy door isn’t meant for you.”
The mahogany red mini-cow lifted her head from where she was lying, curled up on Ziggy’s dog bed by the fireplace, and cast me a bored glance. I’d adopted the little diva from a family who thought she’d make a great indoor pet, but quickly found out they were wrong. They didn’t have the outdoor space an animal like her required, so I brought her to live with me. Only problem was, after spending so much time as an indoor cow, she thought she had free rein to come in and out as she pleased. She used the doggy door I had installed for Ziggy whenever she decided she didn’t want to be outside any longer.
“You are not a house cow. Now, come on. Back outside.”
I waved my arm toward the back door, staring Daisy down until she finally let out a small moo I was sure was the bovine equivalent of telling me to fuck off. She took her time pushing herself up and trotted through the house at a snail’s pace as I stood by the back door and waited. I could have sworn she sent me the evil eye when I pulled it open and ushered her out.
“Don’t give me that look. We’ve had this conversation a million times. I made you a comfy home out in the barn. That’s where you belong.”
Her tail flicked as she sauntered down the back-porch steps. Out in the pasture, my donkey, Dexter, let out an ear-splitting bray that never failed to make me cringe every time I heard it. I lifted my hand to shield my eyes from the rising sun and looked out at the pasture. Dexter stood at the fence, his lips pulled back over his large square teeth in the donkey version of a smile as he let loose another string of noises that grated against my ears worse than nails on a chalkboard.
“Good morning to you too, handsome,” I called back. Because, yes, I was the kind of woman who talked to her animals like they understood everything I was saying. And I was pretty sure they did. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be out to feed you. He responded in turn with another god-awful sound.
I made quick work of taking care of Pirate and Ziggy, then slipped my feet into the rubber boots I kept in the mud room by the back door and headed out to the barn.
The second she heard the clomp of my boots on the concrete floor, Corona, the beautiful, gentle palomino I’d had since I was twelve, stuck her head over the door to her stall.
An instant grin took over my face at the sight of her. We’d had countless pets growing up, and there was never any shortage of horses, but Corona had been the first animal that was one hundred percent mine alone. I’d been responsible for her entire life from the moment my dad guided her out of the trailer for me to see. I was responsible for feeding and watering, for mucking her stall and making sure she was exercised properly. As soon as my barn was finished, I moved her from the main one out here with me. She’d been the first animal in my new home, and while they all held special places in my heart, Corona’s was carved just a little deeper.
“There’s my beautiful girl,” I crooned as I reached up to rub between her eyes, running my fingers through her forelock. She pressed harder into my palm. My girl had always been affectionate, sometimes acting more like a giant dog than a horse.
Dexter’s bray broke through the still morning calm, and I chuckled as Corona looked off in the direction it had come from, her ears perking up. She blew a gust of air out between her lips, impatience causing her to root at the floor of her stall with her front hoof. I hadn’t been worried about bringing Dexter into the fold a few years ago. Corona had always been good with other animals, but I hadn’t expected them to get along as well as they did. Their relationship was something to behold. I might have been her favorite human, but that wily little donkey was her favorite creature on four legs.
“I see how it is. Being thrown over for a literal jackass.” Corona let out another huff, her silent way of telling me to move my ass.
On a laugh, I let her out of her stall and led her to the pasture, setting her loose with Dexter, the two of them running around like they’d been separated for years. I made quick work of mucking out her stall and getting everyone fed, including Daisy, who now seemed to be giving me the silent treatment for kicking her out of the house.
With my usual morning chores done, I headed back inside to make myself a cup of coffee before heading out to the front porch like I did most mornings when the weather was warm enough. Pushing the screen door open, I let Ziggy out to wander, knowing he wouldn’t venture far from the house. He wasn’t really one to explore too far, but he liked to sniff around in the morning before lazing about the rest of the day.
Moving to the porch swing my dad and brother had installed for me the weekend I officially made this place my home, Isnuggled into the cushions and pushed one foot against the floorboards to set me into motion. I pulled my cardigan tighter around me and stared out at my little piece of heaven. The birds were waking up, their song filling the air along with the calming gurgle of the stream nearby that stretched from one end of the ranch to the next and beyond.
The morning air was crisp with fall creeping up on the valley. It wouldn’t be long before I needed several more layers in order to enjoy these quiet, peaceful mornings. Then, eventually, the cold would be too unwelcoming, and I’d have to get my fix by standing at the window until the winter faded away into spring once more.
Mornings like this I could sit and clear my mind of all the things that stressed me out, and lately, it felt like most of my stress centered around one obnoxious, infuriating person. Things between Raylan and me had taken a profound shift recently. Our relationship had been a little strained after what I was dubbing the worst kiss in the history of kisses at Zach and Rae’s wedding, but, despite the constant heartache, I’d been hopeful that my feelings would eventually fade and we could get back to what we used to be. Or at least part of what we’d used to be.
Unfortunately, things had taken a swing in the opposite direction, going from bad to worse. I didn’t know what bug had crawled up his butt, but over the past several months, the Raylan I’d known all my life had turned into a raging asshole of epic proportions.
We couldn’t be in the same room without fighting, it seemed, and more times than I could count, his surly attitude had me imagining what it would be like to hold his head under water until the splashing stopped.
Usually, when I thought about how our friendship had disintegrated, it made me sad. More than once I’d cried myselfto sleep, missing the friend I used to have. But that sadness rarely had a chance to linger, because it never failed that Raylan would do or say something to piss me off. And the cycle would continue.
Ziggy’s sharp bark pulled me out of my head as he abandoned the shrub he’d been marking and darted back toward the porch. At the sound of hooves clip-clopping against the hard ground, I glanced toward the copse of trees to the east, near the stream. The nice, early morning calm I’d found, shriveled up and died as the bane of my existence came into view.
At the sight of him, Ziggy let out another bark, catching Raylan’s attention. The man and his horse both turned to look our way.
Placing my coffee mug on the small table beside me, I used my foot to bring my steady swinging to a halt, and pushed to standing, wrapping my cardigan tighter, like a protective barrier, as I moved to the porch railing.
I ignored the way the sun made his hair look like spun gold and narrowed my eyes in his direction as I crossed my arms over my chest. A breeze blew past, the chill of it suddenly reminding me that I wasn’t exactly dressed for company. As if that wasn’t enough, I didn’t miss the way Raylan’s eyes fell to my bare legs for a beat before shooting back up to my face, his brows lowering into his typical scowl. But I lifted my chin, refusing to show any outward signs of discomfort, and matched him, glare for glare.
“You shouldn’t be out here without clothes on,” he growled, raising my hackles even higher.
And just like that, the gloves were dropped.
“This is private property, dickwad.Myproperty. That means I can be out here dressed however I damn well please. Hell, I could dance around my front yard, naked as the day I was born, calling up the sun if I wanted, and there isn’t a damn thing you could do about it.”
“Christ, Chaos. Relax, would you? Just headin’ back from scouting new trails and fishin’ spots for the lodge. You always have to be so goddamn combative?”
I hummed and tapped my chin in mock thought, ignoring the way that endearment sliced right through my chest like a hot knife through butter. “I don’t know, Cowboy. You always have to be such a raging hemorrhoid?”
