Page 17 of Cabin Fever

SIX

Carter

"IKNOW WHAT THE PROBLEMis, but I don't know how to fix it," I mentioned to Kitty as I leaned back in the kitchen chair and kicked my feet up to rest on the other chair.

She's snuggled up in her bed, having decided to stay warm today instead of joining me outside as I worked on the truck. I didn't blame her. Even I couldn't stay out that long.

"It's the spark plugs. I think I have some extras somewhere around here, but I can't remember where I put them."

Now it was just a matter of finding the plugs for the truck and the truck should start. Then my life of peace and quiet and farming could return to normal.

"Think I should check on Olivia in the barn?"

Kitty adjusted herself in her bed, which I took as a no.

"I'll give her a little while longer, then I'll bring her in." Lifting the reheated cup of coffee to my lips, I enjoyed the solace. It was refreshing.

Making her clean up the barn floor was mean—even for me—but she was a little too eager to learn the farm. Constantly asking me questions about each bucket, tool, and bag that hung on the barn wall. Every time I started on a task, her curiosity interrupted me. In the past week, I heard more words come out of Olivia's mouth than I had experienced from anyone in my entire life.

That's when I came up with the idea last night. But the more I thought about making her clean up the hardened mud, hay, and dung on the floor, the guiltier I felt. The floor to the barn was dirt and only needed a cleaning about once a year, so making her think it constantly had to be done was an exaggeration on my part.

I was honest when I admitted to cooking extra bacon and letting her sleep in this morning. As annoying as Olivia had been, I let my conscience get the best of me.

"She's not that bad, Kitty. Olivia means well. But she's from DC. From what Dad told me, someone like that doesn't understand the importance of a job well done."

Sure, she had a smile that could brighten the darkest night, but being attractive wasn't a reason to treat anyone different. If someone did a good job and worked hard, I'd let them know. Like two days ago when I told her I was impressed she took on the task of feeding the ewes without me having to ask. The pasture was covered in ice that was too hard for the sheep to get to the grass. I was going to do it myself but when I made my way back to the barn from the pasture; she was already there feeding them.

I was surprised she took the initiative, but that didn't stop her from showing her true spoiled colors today when she demanded that I serve her breakfast.

"I won't be swayed by the one time she worked hard. It took me years to earn my father's respect with the farm. And even then, everything I did was double-checked." I shook my head. "What about all the other times I had to go back and fix what she worked on?"

Kitty snorted.

"She's learning. Okay, I was young once and had to be taught what to do. But I was a kid. She's a grown woman. Olivia is strong and has soft curves. And her breasts are . . . um, too big. There, I said it." I slid my eyes to Kitty, who popped one eye open and stared at me.

"I don't mean that's unattractive. If anything, it makes her very appealing . . . in a sexy, supple way. I can only imagine what she'd look like naked. Any man would love to brush their thumbs over her tight nipples—"

"What are you doing?" Olivia said as she walked out of the hallway and into the kitchen.

I fell back in my chair as I choked on my coffee. Lying there having a coughing fit, I stared up into pale blue eyes as a large, pink tongue licked my cheek.

"Oh, Carter. Are you okay?"

I pushed Kitty off me and turned to see Olivia, her cheeks pink with warmth.

"I . . . uh, I'm fine." I coughed a few more times before I continued, "Just discussing if I should consider using the two pregnant ewes for milking. Uh . . . yup. Just coming up with ways to make some extra income from sheep's milk."

She lowered her hand and helped me stand. A few strands of her golden hair stuck to her face and without thinking, I reached up to push the strands away. But before I touched her cheeks, I thought better of it and clasped my hands behind my back.

Her half smile caused me to sweat. "Oh, that's a good idea. I wonder what sheep's milk tastes like?"

"Sweet. Buttery, very rich," I said as I stared at her plump lips.

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