I don’t believe marriage and motherhood have necessarily softened her, but they do seem to have made her happier, more relaxed.
At least a little.
Not that I’d ever tell her that. She’d probably punch me.
I look back at Micah. “Can you have cows and bison on the same land?”
Micah nods. “Sure.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. They’re both grazers. They’ll just have to be in separate pastures. Bison don’t always play nice with cattle.”
“They need different management too,” Cabe says as he slings an arm around Micah’s shoulders. “Which is why we recruited this guy.”
I nod.
That actually makes sense.
Like horses, different breeds require different handling, feed, and care. I imagine giant, prehistoric-looking murder cows would be no different.
Still …
Bison …
At Wildhaven Storm?
That’ll take some getting used to.
Royce folds his arms. “Sounds like a lot of work.”
Micah snorts. “That’s because it is.”
Cabe slaps him on the shoulder. “Good thing we have extra hands around this summer.”
The second he says it, I know where this conversation is headed.
I don’t like it.
Royce clearly doesn’t either.
“We’ll be busy with the rodeo school,” I tell him.
Cabe grins. “Not all the time. You have nights and weekends free.”
“We’re up early and work until dinner,” Royce tells him.
“So, not that busy,” Cabe notes.
I groan.
Royce groans too.
Because we both know we’re losing this argument.
It’s difficult to argue when our brother begins his day at four in the morning and doesn’t finish until the sun sets and every chore is done.
And the problem with growing up on a ranch is that everyone thinks you’re always available for work. No matter what. You could win the lottery, a world championship, or even become president of the United States, and someone would still ask you to fix a fence and expect it to be done right.
