Page 26 of Spurred On

“I know you know how to work. Jack and Mabel will be thrilled to have an extra set of hands.” I search his face, trying to see if this is just a clever ploy to get me to accept my help, but I feel like he is telling the truth.

“When can I start?” I need money like yesterday.

“You can start right now if you want? I am on my way to the barn. We have a couple stalls that need cleaning and a calf that needs feeding.”

“You should have led with feeding baby cows,” I mutter, the last bit of my anger now evaporated, and I suddenly feel a little too tired.

“I’ll remember that next time.” He walks to the truck door and opens it, waiting for me to get in. “I’ll show you how everything works, and then I have to help the boys drop some hay for the cows in the pasture.”

“Okay. Thank you,” I whisper. God, I don't want to do this, but declining help is clearly not getting me anywhere. Technically, I am still earning it myself.

Mav drives around the big house and follows the road until we get to the giant barn. Its steel sides are covered with a pitched roof. It still looks like a barn, but half of it was smooshed with a metal shop.

“I’ll show you around the barn and the stables,” he says, one hand lazily draped across the wheel and the other arm propped on his center console.

Gawking at the sight in front of me, I say, “That’s the biggest barn I’ve ever seen.” Obviously, I’ve seen it before, but from afar—never wanting to get too close to the house and feel like I’m encroaching on someone else’s space. The only time I’ve been to the house it was was dark out, but now that I’m taking it all in I’m in awe.

“Well, there’s also a practice pen. A few kids from town like to ride, but their moms won’t let them compete. I like to practice there. And kids take horse riding lessons. Plus, the whole left side is the functional part, which is where you will be working.” I take note, trying to remember it all.

“Wow. People come all the way out here to ride?” This part surprises me the most. The whole town is very widespread. There is obviously a town center area, but once you get out of there, houses are separated by many miles. For such a little town, it stretches far.

“When you live in a small town, everything is a bit of a drive, so you’d be surprised what people are willing to do.” He shrugs it off like it is nothing new. I always thought most of Wyoming was the same. We don’t really have huge cities, but I guess I never really understood true small-town life until I was here. My little town lacks quite a few things this one has, like heart and people who adore it.

We park in front of the barn; the estate fence goes around the front, making it easy to tell where to go. Good to know for future reference.

“You can come in through the main door. We try not to open the overhead door much in winter,” he points to the opposite end of the barn, “keeps the inside a little warmer.”

He punches a number into the keypad on the door, and it unlocks. A huge dirt pen sits to the right, and another door goes to the left.

“Here is the pen. This is where we do rides. You’ll see over there,” he points to the far-right side, “is a chute. We use that for practice with real bulls. We have a few that live here. They aren’t as mean as the ones on the circuit, but they’re great to learn from and gentle enough for the kids.”

“Is this where you learned to ride?” My eyes take it all in, noting the high ceiling and the smell only livestock can bring.

He tucks his hands into his pockets as he looks around too. “Yup, this is the first place I ever rode a bull. The pen was half the size, but so was I.”

“That’s pretty neat. Do you like teaching kids to ride?”

“Yeah, I love it. It’s fun watching their love for rodeo start. We’re going through these doors; this part is for the cattle operation. We have some stalls for horses or calves that need bottle feeding. Or the occasional Couplet.”

I start walking around the pin area, following Mav’s footsteps as we head to the right. “That means mom and baby, right?”

“Yup.” He turns the handle, and immediately, the look changes. Now this looks like a barn. There are six wooden stalls. Four of them are occupied by horses, one has a calf, and the other is empty.

I stop dead in my tracks, my eyes locked on the cute little fluff ball. Why are things always so much cuter when they’re babies? “Oh my god. Is that a baby cow?”

“A calf? Yes. That will be part of your new job. She needs to be fed twice a day until she can take solids. Her mom rejected her, so she’s a bottle calf.” He takes a step further into the space, and I follow.

My hands reach out for one of the horses to sniff before I gently pat its nose. “I would have asked you to hire me on months ago if I knew I could pet the cows and horses.”

“She’s still not a pet, but I'm glad I know how to soften you up,” he says, and I look over to him, unable to hide my smile.

“I’m plenty soft.” My brow furrows as I take a step away from the horse and close the distance between us.

“Cuddly as a cactus.” He winks at me, and I slap him with the new pair of work gloves I had shoved into my pocket he had given me in the truck. “I’m kidding. You're obviously super warm and soft.”

My hand falls to my hip. Clearly, he has forgotten a few crucial details about me. “Hey, who took care of you the other night?”

“I actually don’t know her. I thought you had been possessed or something?” If the smirk on his face wasn’t so freaking cute, I would smack it straight off him.

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