“Oh, look at you! What’s your name, cutie?”
The goat doesn’t answer, but her grumpy owner does.
“This is Desiree,” Major formally introduces us.
I don’t spare him a glance and keep cooing to all the animals. “What about her?” I point at the cow.
He sighs as if I’m doing something wrong by asking.
“Bessie.”
Major likes to puff his chest and keep the image of the grumpy guy around here, but he’s the one who has cute animals named Desiree and Bessie. I have nothing, though I love animals and always wanted a pet. Grandpa reminded me I’m trouble enough as it is.
“Here, take this.”
My attention is now on the pigs. I want to ask their names too, but Major shakes the shovel until I take it from his hands.
“Start with the goats and work your way down the barn.”
That’s all he tells me before turning around. He wants me to do what? I have to run after him and curse as my breasts weigh me down.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I shake the shovel just as he did to me.
Major blinks down at me like I’m insane for asking and shakes his head. “You’re going to shovel shit, Veda.”
He turns on his heel and leaves the barn. I’m so baffled by his reply that I don’t run after him this time. The animals are cute,but I wanted to pet them, not deal with their shit. It’s not pleasant work, but I don’t have an excuse not to do it. Major brought me here to push my limits. Either because Grandpa told him to or because he thinks I’m a spoiled brat and he can break me.
Well, he can’t. So I start with the goats.
The work is not exactly horrible once I get into a rhythm. The animals are cute, and I keep reminding myself that they need and deserve a clean pen, and that’s what I’m providing for them.
It takes me a long time from pen to pen. I wasn’t exactly strong before, but now any physical activity brings bright spots to my eyes, and from time to time, I need to sit down on a clump of hay until my vision is back to normal. I chat with the animals as I go, trying to keep my spirits high by humming happy songs, but by my third hour, my arms start shaking, and I feel like I’m about to puke.
There’s only one pen left, with a cute brown cow. I'm not sure what her name is, but she has big dark eyes and loves to be pet. I sit on the hay in front of her pen to rest before I can tackle her shit. She seems understanding about it all. I’m concentrating on gathering the last of my strength, that I almost don’t hear the raised voices until they are too close.
“I’m done with this, Derrick.”
Major’s voice echoes loud and clear. They must be on the other side of the barn, where they keep the horses. Major must have thought I was done with the chore. Joke's on him—I’m the slowest poop shoveler in the world.
“What exactly are you done with?” Derrick spats in return.
“I’m tired of you hiding.”
Derrick laughs, but it’s obvious he doesn’t find any humor in it. I grimace and look at the cows, wondering if they hear the edge in his voice, too.
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“You ignore Champion, and you refuse to tame the wild horse.”
“Storm,” I whisper to myself. I named her Storm in my head, though no one knows but me. Naming who doesn’t belong to me became a habit of mine, but I can’t help myself. The mare is proud. She deserves a name of her own.
“Why is any of this your concern? Hurts so bad you can’t fix me?”
“You’re not broken, Derrick,” Major says so softly his tone surprises me, and I feel a tug inside. The urge to hug the grumpy cowboy is so great, I know I need to get checked. There’s no way Major would accept a hug from me, or should I ever offer.
“Funny, that’s how it looks to me.” Derrick’s reply comes again with his horribly sarcastic chuckle.
The brothers seem to be frustrating one another, but really, they should talk. Big feelings are gone easily when people listen to them, but I have to admit, I can’t imagine either of them going for a heart-to-heart. You need to be in a place of vulnerability for that, and I’m not an expert on them, but it feels like neither of them is willing to let their guard down.
