Page 21 of For Fillies and Monsters

“Well, don’t you look nice,” Dale says to Nathan, effectively cutting through the growing tension. I peek over my shoulder at them, and the smile on his face is similar to a rodeo queen who just got crowned at the county fair. And then he bows at the waist.

Fucking bows.

I whip around.Nope, no fucking time for this shit. I want no part of it. He can fuck right off for all I care.

“Thanks, Dale! Always trying to look my best,” comes his reply, and I hear the pleased smile in his voice. My eyes aregoing to get stuck permanently if Nathan keeps this act up all day.

Mine and Dale’s horses are tied up and saddled, ready to put in a long day’s work as I walk into the corral. The sun is only just above the horizon—it is only seven-thirty in the morning, after all—but my shirt is already starting to stick to my back, and the crease between my ass and leg already itches.

“Did you bring a horse?” I don’t see a trailer attached to Nathan’s truck, but no one would be stupid enough to volunteer to help without bringing their horse.He does know what we are doing today, doesn’t he?

“No horse. I will hang out here until you get them gathered, then help sort and vaccinate. Not much good on a horse, never did really like them,” he states matter-of-factly. He then pulls out his phone, and props a hip against the corral railing, ready to settle in, it looks like.

I slice a menacing glare toward Dale, and she has the audacity to smile sheepishly and shrug.

“Alright.” I swing my leg over Winston’s bowed back and kick toward the golden fields. I don’t bother waiting for Dale, even though I can see her rushing to swing over her horse to keep up.

Nathan being here, helping but not really helping, feels like a waste. A waste of time, a waste of space, and a waste of my quickly dissolving kindness. I don’t need someone to come watch me work—no doubt judging my inexperience—but rather, someone who’s not afraid to get dirty and teach me what I might not know. Why is Nathan even here? What is his end game with all of this?

Winston fidgets beneath me, his ears twisting back and forth, sensing my turmoil. I lean forward, patting him on the neck reassuringly, and readjust in my seat. I have to bite down on my cheek to keep from yelping as my jeans pinch painfully atmy pussy lips without the fabric of underwear between my skin and jeans to protect me.

Fuck! Why can’t anything just work in my favor? Just once?

I inhale through my nose and out through my mouth.Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen…

Dale trots up beside me, as good in a saddle as I am, and sighs. “What is your deal? You’re acting like you’re sitting on hot coals.”

“I couldn’t find any underwear.” I unashamedly push my hand in my pants to readjust the fabric and my skin.

Dale barks a laugh. “Maybe your mystery man hid them.” She says it with a waggle of her dark eyebrows before turning forward. I pause, my heart picking up speed at the thought. Dale meant it as a joke, but now that the words are out there, I can’t shake the truth ringing in them.

Had someone taken all of my underwear?

Not wanting to freak Dale out with my revelation, I switch topics.

“So, Nathan. He’s a real catch.” There’s more venom in my voice than I originally intended, but it’s no use trying to disguise it now.

“He has a penis. And he, no doubt, keeps it very clean and tidy. Use it, and then lose it.”

I will never get used to Dale using such crass words. When had she gotten such a dirty mouth? She hadn’t always been this way. Not that I mind, but it’s something I definitely need time to get used to.

“Do you talk to your students with that mouth?”

“Oh, Stet, I say everything I want and need to now, because I have to repress so much of my thoughts and feelings teaching. It’s torture, really. These kids think I’m just an old lady who lives under her desk and has no social life,” Dale says, slumping forward in her saddle.

“Little do they know, you drink like a fish, cuss like a sailor, and talk about fucking like a pimp.”

Dale smiles wide, her eyes glittering at my observation. “You get me. You always have.”

“Do you think you could jump back here for a bit, Nathan? I’m getting beat to shit, and I don’t want to risk permanently damaging the local hero Ag teacher more than I already have today. We only have like ten left.” My voice sounds much calmer than I feel, and I mentally pat myself on the back, not for the first time today.

We have been working for hours, the sun past its peak in the sky, and Nathan has done little more than open a couple of gates, run in the house to get more vaccines, and ask me a hundred times if I have lunch planned afterward. During that time, I have flipped the chute over what feels like a hundred times to administer the vaccines, and when Dale got kicked for the fifth time, I demanded we trade.

I know without a doubt, tomorrow, my legs will be covered in dark round bruises and welts, and my arms will be so sore I won’t be able to push out of bed. This is more work than I have ever done in my life, and not for the second time today, I question if it is worth it.

I also question if Nathan will fall and break his pretty neck if I push him hard enough off the top pole of the fence.

Is it bad to say, I hope so?

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