“Love you.” She hangs up.
Well, that’s that, I guess. Now to the next order of business. I need an appropriate farm-girl outfit.
After a quick shower, I flip open the lid of my suitcase, and scan the pile of Lycra, mesh, and bodycon dresses. It’s all cute, but I’m starting to wish I’d brought justonehoodie. I suppose I could steal a shirt from the guys, but they’re massive on me, and I want to be able to move. After a few minutes of rummaging, the best I can come up with is my leggings and a white lacy bralette.
Okay.Maybeit’s a bra. It’s open to interpretation. But it’s my best option, so I wriggle it on, tug my hair into a high ponytail, and go to the front door where Cameron left the boots he bought for me. They’re more rustic than I’d usually go for, made ofbuttery brown leather, but they hug my feet like a dream when I lace them up.
By the time I get to the paddock, shearing is already well underway. The men have divided the area into three pens—one for the woolly sheep, one for the sheep currently being sheared, and one for the naked ones.
It’s chaos. Sheep are everywhere,baaing, running at the fences, trying to escape. Scout is running circles around the pen, keeping them hemmed in.
Fraser is the first to see me. He’s wrangling a spherical ewe into the shearing pen, his auburn hair messy and falling out of its bun. “Sunshine!” he calls, waving me down. “Over here.” He passes the sheep onto Alec, and I watch in fascination as Alec grasps hold of her, cups her chin, and starts shearing her in calm, efficient strokes. The sheep lets him flip her over onto her back to do her belly. In less than a minute, she’s half the size she was before.
“There we go. You’re being so good,” I hear Alec tell her quietly as I approach. “You’ll feel much better now. You won’t get so hot, eh?” He lets the sheep go.
Fraser herds her towards the rest of the shorn sheep. “Off you go, ya big spud,” he says, patting her on the bum. “Go show your new haircut to the other ladies.” He starts gathering the wool and shoving it into a bag as Cameron hauls out the next sheep to be shorn.
It’s an impressive operation. The men work together smoothly, with the speed and precision of an F1 pit crew.
“Wow,” I can’t help saying. “You guys are so good at this.”
Alec looks up, and his face immediately hardens. His eyes linger on my chest. I look down.
Ah. Turns out, in daylight, you can totally see my nips through this bralette.
Well…Oops.
“Don’t you think you might get cold?” Alec asks politely.
I give him my best smile. “Not if I work hard enough.”
“Christ.” Alec wipes off his hands. “Fraser,” he calls. “Show Summer to pen three, please.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Fraser appears at my side and leads me towards the pen of shorn sheep. “I have to say, sweetheart, you are the bonniest farmer I ever laid eyes on.”
“Um, yes.” I can still feel Alec’s eyes on me as we walk away. “Maybe I should have worn a top.”
He gasps. “Baby, no! It’s your body.Neverlet a man make you feel like you have to wear a top. All right, you’re going to be working with the baldies today.” He pushes open the gate to the pen for me, and we pick our way through the already-shorn sheep. Several come up to me, snuffling curiously.
“Once we’re done with ’em, you need to check for any nicks or scrapes,” he explains. “If they need it, they get a wee dab of antiseptic”—he shows me a spray bottle on a rickety trestle table—“and then they need a drink and a snack. Water trough’s back in the corner, you can refill it from the hose. The feed goes in these big buckets. Most of the ladies like being shorn, but some can be a bit nervy, so just be nice and calm with ’em, okay?”
I nod determinedly. “I’m the post-shearing spa.”
He laughs. “Aye, I thought you’d get a kick out of that. I reckon it’ll make you feel better about everything.” He tugs on the end of my ponytail fondly. “Can’t dwell when you have these cuties climbing all over you.”
I smile up at him, my chest warming.
“One for you, Summer,” Alec calls. Fraser steps back, and I try not to panic as Cameron herds a freshly shorn sheep towards me. I open the gate and corral her inside awkwardly. She looks vaguely annoyed as I crouch down at her side and run my hands over her wrinkly pink skin, looking for scrapes.
“Like this?” I check.
Fraser kneels next to me, his chest pressed against my back. “Aye,” he says in my ear, making me shiver. “Check her wee legs too.” I do, stroking her twiggy legs. The sheep glares at me. Fraser presses closer, his mouth grazing the side of my throat. “Look at that. You’re a natural.” His lips trail down the curve of my neck and across my shoulder.
“Do you have to give me feedback while nuzzling me?” I mumble, my cheeks heating.
“Oh, aye, it’s great for morale. I do it for Cameron and Alec too.”
I sit back on my haunches, satisfied. “No scrapes.”
