Page 39 of Auctioned to the Cowboys

I don't reply because I know I've hit on something delicate. I want to leave her to fill the silence. She seems to be weighing up how to continue what she's started but thinks better of it. When she's been quiet for over a minute, I jump in again.

“I got a puppy on my tenth birthday and called him Mutt.”

“Was that what inspired you to want to become a vet?”

“Maybe. I used to like taking care of him. He got a thorn in his paw once. Took it out with tweezers. My first surgery.”

Taylor turns to gaze at the meadow to our left, which is alive with flowers.

“They're early this year. The weather's been warm.”

“They're beautiful, especially the two-tone ones. They're so perfect. I wish I could take some pictures.”

I take a chance. “Bring your phone next time. You've got a phone, don't you?”

Taylor hesitates, but there's something about being close but not looking into each other's eyes that makes it easier to talk.

“Yeah.”

“You called your family yet?”

Her shoulders stiffen, and Taffy raises his head as though she has squeezed him with her legs. He’s picking up on her tension, so I pat his haunches for reassurance.

“My friend Natalie called me. My little sister, Molly, is with my dad and will be missing me. I called Natalie to see if she's seen her, but she hasn't.” Her voice tapers off, her worry palpable.

“Why don't you just call your dad? Or your sister?”

Before she can answer, Sadie's two calves appear, alerted by our approach.

“Look,” I whisper loudly and point in case she hasn't noticed. She swivels her head and gasps with excitement. “Sadie's babies.”

“Will she be ready soon?”

“I hope so.”

We walk on, but Taylor doesn't return to our conversation, and the moment has passed where it was natural to ask more about her dad and sister. She didn't mention her mom or nanna from the photo. I know from experience that secrets are sometimes best buried so deep that no one will ever find them. If she wants to tell me about her life, that's up to her, but I'm not going to push, just encourage. If Jesse wants to know more, he'll have to be the one to dig.

As we make our way over to where the others have dismounted, Taylor keeps her gaze ahead. Her neck has already gone pink in the sun, and her freckles are more intense. Maverick and Clint have hitched Bristol and Marv up to the shadiest post and are enjoying a long drink of cool water. Taylor's eyes linger on the scene as both men lose their shirts. I'm used to the sight, but it's new to Taylor. She stiffens between my legs, the work-toughened bodies of my friends having some kind of effect. I dismount first and hold out my hand for Taylor, then lead Taffy over to the other horses. When I strip my own shirt, Taylor's attention drifts to me, eyes stroking over my skin like fingers.

“You did well, Tay, for your first time on a horse, even with Clint for support.” Maverick rubs his spread palm over the full length of his abs and pecs, preening in front of Taylor. He removes his hat and tips water over his head, pushing it through his hair and swiping it over his body.

“This isn't a strip show,” Jesse grumbles. It isn't something I'd do, but in this heat, the water sure looks good.

Taylor loosens her buttons, revealing a flash of white flesh and the bulge of her cleavage, which I try to tear my eyes away from. She fans her hand to create a breeze, and when she catches me looking, there's a flicker of heat in her eyes, the same as last night. She unhitches the food basket and places it in the shade. “I don't know how long it will be until it spoils.” She sounds concerned, but Jesse assures her we can eat early to keep our energy up.

“We've got a steer-branding early next week and we need to make sure these fences and stalls are up to the job. They're powerful beasts.” Jesse's already heading away towards the main pen.

“Yep, and they don't like their backsides fried to a cinder. Smells like a smokehouse round here when it happens.” Maverick has no filter system, and Jesse throws him a glance back that could melt an iron bolder.

“You'll scare the poor girl with stupid comments like that.” I lead the horses to a water trough, and they slurp and gulp the liquid thirstily.

“Sounds painful.” Taylor looks back at the way we came and then at the sun beating fiercely. The ranch house is way out of sight, so she's going nowhere.

“It's state law here, honey,” I tell her. “And it's necessary to claim ownership in case they go wandering off or worse. You'll get used to it. It doesn't take long.” Hurting animals in any way has never sat well with me, but in some ways, it's for their own good. Life on a ranch is a series of compromises. Business is business, and we've got to make a living.

Jesse's arranging the tools he's brought with him, strapped to his horse, the labor of today calling all our names. “We're bringing in some farm hands, so you won't actually need to get involved, but we'll need you to go over to the bunk house later on and make sure the bedding is all clean and set up, get the bathroom cleaned, things like that.”

“I'm happy to give you a hand,” I add.

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