Flint hugged her, then swept me out into the worsening weather. It was good to have a big, strong man with me because a gust nearly tore the car door out of my hand when I tried to close it. He took care of it for me.
“This weather is bonkers!” I was breathing heavily from the exertion of just getting into the SUV.
“The end of January, beginning of February, is the second-worst tornado season in Mississippi,” Flint sped up a little as we exited The Square. “You don’t want to be caught out in the weather if a twister spins up.”
“Tornadoes in winter?”
“Absolutely,” Flint steered around downed tree limbs.
“Wow,” I rubbed my arms. My lightweight jacket wasn’t keeping me warm as it did earlier in the day. The temperature must have plummeted 20 degrees while we were talking to Mrs. Dorsey.
Flint floored the vehicle, pushing us back to the ranch as fast as we could legally go. Okay, maybe a little faster than that. When we were a few miles away from the house, I noticed all the cows running in one direction as the rain started pelting the vehicle’s roof.
“What’s going on there?”
Flint glanced over. “They’re responding to the call back to the barn. Cows aren’t always smart when it comes to bad weather. They like to congregate under trees, which is a recipe for lightning strikes. We train our cows to come home when the weather takes a turn.”
“You train cows? Like dogs?”
The edge of his mouth ticked up. “Something like that. When weather gets bad enough, we set off an alarm which the cows associate with treats. They head back to the barn to get their reward. Theycanbe trained.”
I laughed at the thought of teaching Bessie the Cow to sit, shake, and roll over. A lone cow caught my attention in the field. “I guess that one isn’t too smart?”
Flint slammed on the brakes. “Shit. Looks like we have a wanderer. We need to get her into the barn before things get worse.”
He threw the SUV into Park. “Slide over here, so you don’t get wet. I’m going to hop the fence and lead her back to the barn. You meet me there.”
My jaw dropped open as he got out, shut the door, and hopped over the ditch at the side of the road. Then, he jumped the fence and was at the cow’s side within seconds.
And darn it, if the sight of a wet Flint Mendota, clothes clinging to all the right spots, leading a cow back to the barn, didn’t do funny things to my insides.
I probably would have sat there, staring at him like an idiot all day, but I was knocked out of my sexy daydreams by the wail of a tornado siren.
