His head tucks in closer, and I know right away what he wants. Reaching behind me, I lift the lid to the insulated canister in the corner of the stable and pull out a carrot. I lay the carrot at the center of my palm and instruct Dutton to hold still.
Obedience is a matter of practice at Coleson Ranch.
“I got you. Don’t worry,” I whisper across his brow. “Go ahead. Eat up.” Dutton wiggles his muzzle across the carrot, inspecting it thoroughly before inhaling it in onebite. Loud crunches echo the confines of the stable, but it’s the sound of steady footsteps approaching that steals my attention.
“Stetson?”
I lift my head above the railing of Dutton’s stall and find Clay searching for me down the stable aisle. “In here,” I reply, promising Dutton I’ll be back, and exiting his stall.
“Who died?” I mumble, taking in Clay’s black suit as I wash my hands at the outdoor sink.
“I can have a list of potentials for you in minutes.”
“Funny,” I retort. “What’s up? Granger said Gilmore gave us the green light for delivery with Nellie.”
Clay nods, and it will never not be weird as shit seeing my assistant work hands-on at my ranch in a fucking high-dollar suit. “She did indeed. I had her do an ultrasound to check on the calf just to make sure there’s nothing we need to prepare for ahead of time. No concerns there.”
I nod my appreciation. Clay is the other half of my brain. Where Granger and Creek would never even think to ask for an additional scan on the baby calf, Clay does. He thinks past Nellie, because his experience with me has taught him that complications can arise past the mother.
That’s the working power that makes us a great team.
“That’s good news. I guess now all that’s left to do is finish up clipping the pastures for seed heads and weeds. I’d rather not rotate pastures until after calving season, so if we get those fields prepped and ready for transition, there will be no running and gunning it last minute.”
“Agreed,” Clay adds. “How’s Tuna doing on the grounds?”
Ah, Tuna.My newly hired third ranch hand. “Haven’t seen him much. What’d you assign him, anyway?”
Clay pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, clearly distracted by whatever is needing him more than me at themoment. The distraction doesn’t last long before a sharp yelp resounds from across the ranch, and Clay immediately dials into the cry for help. “Speak of the devil. Fences. He had one fucking job.” Clay throws his hands up in annoyance, holding up their text thread for proof. “He had simple instructions to check the fences for gaps and make sure all wire is secured and tucked. Can’t have herds of cows escaping before breeding season. Figures that’d be too much to ask. How incompetent can he be?”
“Your idea to hire him. Your job to train him.” I send him a sinister grin and spin my head on a swivel, ready to hunt down the rookie rancher.
“West end,” Clay tells me, directing my search. “May need to call in reinforcements.”
I walk toward the west side of the stable and pop my head out to find Tuna tangled in a coil of barbed wire, phone held high as if his conversation with Clay is the only thing he’s counting on. “Fucking hell,” I groan, shaking my head in disbelief.
“You sure I hired him? Was I sober for this decision?” Clay sighs, laughter in his tone.
I point my finger at him. “You better get him acclimated, Clay. I can’t have a lawsuit on my hands over asupposedqualified ranch hand getting poked to death with fucking cattle wire. That’s the bare minimum of his job description.”
Clay responds without looking, eyes still trained in on his phone. “On it right now. You’re gonna pay Granger overtime to train him.”
I shake my head. “Figures. Whatever you say,boss,” I emphasize the boss, because he’s the farthest thing from it. “Do what you gotta do.”
Just before I get a chance to storm off, Clay stops me. “Oh, before you go. Red Velvet or Strawberry? Dutycalls.” He holds up the bane of my existence and a device that has interfered with my life more times than I’d like.
I jerk my head in his direction, eyeing my savage assistant like the impulsive lunatic he is. “And you need this information because…?”
“Just answer the question, Stetson.”
Must be summoned by a certain sister of mine.
I tick my tongue. “Neither. Chocolate fudge. Add cognac and toffee.” And I retreat, with the sudden desire to see a certain flight attendant again.
Although I’ve tried reaching out, she has yet to respond.
Not sure I like that.
CHAPTER TEN
