I end the call, mind clouding with thoughts and observations. I rest my head against the wall of the stall, eyes heavy. Sinkinginto the calm, the soft sounds and slow breathing. Dry straw and soft nickers until my vision blackens…
A soft chuckle startles me awake. I look up. Leonora’s breathtaking in the soft light of the stables, ebony locks loose today and swirling around her shoulders like a dark invitation. Pink cheeks. Pinker lips. Dark eyes filled with too much warmth.
I clear my throat, sit up straighter. The calf rouses then snuggles deeper into sleep. “Thought I’d handle the first feeding. Hope that’s okay.”
The corners of her mouth turn down. “Your job, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Then, she breaks into an ear-to-ear grin. “Strange bedfellows.”
I nod, throat tightening.
She thumbs over her shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee. You make a decent brew.”
“Of course.”
“About to head into town. Can you have the stall mucking done by the time I return?” The set of her jaw is determined, as if she’s got unfinished business.
I shift the calf in my lap, lay his head back in the straw. “Better go with you?—”
“With me?” she grimaces. “Why?”
I try to stand, pause for a moment on one knee, legs still grainy and asleep. “You headed in for ranch business?”
“Of course,” she huffs as if it’s a stupid question. “We could use more colostrum. The good stuff. And I’m almost out of selenium and batteries for the trail cams.”
“You have trail cams?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Between the neighbors and predators, of course.”
“You reviewed the footage lately?”
“No, because they haven’t been working lately.”
My jaw tightens.
“Solar-powered. Fog’s been killing them.”
I nod.
“Sounds like you could use a hand, then,” I offer.
“First talk of mucking stalls, and you’re ready to run?” she teases, a slight edge to her voice.
“After last night.”
She crosses her arms, leaning back on her heels and sizing me up. Then she shrugs.
“Speaking of babies, those rabbits need a reheat?” I ask, warmer than I mean to sound.
“Already checked. Mama’s got it figured out now. They look healthy and happy. Chickens, too.”
“We taking my truck or yours?” I ask, eyes narrowing when she glares. “Promise I’ll make the stalls shine when we get back.
“Good, ‘cause I don’t like backsliding workers.”
“Never,” I grunt.
