Page 5 of Last Chance for Her Rancher Boss

Meg felt herself shrinking. Why was he being so harsh all of a sudden?

You had to look for jobs tonight instead of going to prom? What happened to you’ll get where you’re going? Go with the flow?

Yeah exactly, that’s what I’m doing. Going with MY flow. Not everything revolves around you and your life.

She felt like she’d been slapped. The loud music went quiet, and all of the bright colors seemed to fade into gray.

Okay,she typed.I’ll stop bothering you.

She waited, hoping desperately for a reply, for an explanation or an apology. But nothing came.

Then Meg did something that she thought she would never do. She texted her dad to come and get her early. He replied straight away, of course, saying he would be right there and to wait out front for him. Meg did just that, not wanting to spend a second longer in the gym. The balloons and streamers, the dance music playing from tinny speakers, all of it just seemed like a joke now. It was all just a stupid party that didn’t really even matter.

That’s what Meg tried to convince herself as she stood at the school gates in her blue dress and sandals, arms folded across her chest, trying not to cry. She failed at that too, tears rolling down her cheeks, and she wished her dad could just teleport there.

The feelings kept growing bigger and growing worse. She knew that once she was in the safety of her bedroom, she was going to bawl her eyes out. It was obvious then thatthiswas how Nash really felt, because there was no reason she could come up with to explain it all away. He’d always been a flake, always been late and not committed to anything. She shouldn’t be so surprised that he’d acted the same towards her. She clearly didn’t matter, not really.

She wiped her cheeks, trying desperately to keep it together while she was still standing on school property. At the very least, her decision about college had been made. No way in hell was she staying here to be near Nash. She would move to Texas and start a brand-new life. One without Nash Callahan in it.

CHAPTER 2

MEG

TEN YEARS LATER

The best thing about working with livestock was that you could lean against them and they wouldn’t budge. So if you were, hypothetically, completely exhausted to the point that you couldn’t remember what day it was, a cow made an excellent place to catch a few seconds of rest.

Meg was so wrung out that she had resorted to using a random cow on the lot as a pillow, leaning a cheek against her flank. The fur was warm, soaking into her skin, and Meg could almost imagine she was back in bed. Almost. If anyone asked, she would just say she was checking the animal’s heartbeat or something. She just needed to close her eyes for a few seconds; that was all…

Having to lean against livestock for a few seconds of rest wasn’t exactly where she had envisioned her life ending up, but here she was. It could have been worse. The cow was clean. Relatively clean, at least.

After accepting admission to college and moving three states away, her veterinary degree had somehow morphed from looking after dogs and the occasional rabbit to learning everything she could about livestock. In her first year of college,she’d somehow convinced a local vet to give her a job as a receptionist, mostly because she just kept showing up. After an incident where they’d needed all hands on deck to dehorn a particularly upset goat, Meg’s career trajectory had taken a sharp turn. Some people sought out an adrenaline rush by going skydiving. Meg got her kicks by getting blood work from cattle big enough to total a hatchback. And seeing as this particular heifer was being so accommodating, Meg was going to stretch out her standing nap for as long as possible.

She was so tired that her very eyeballs felt like they were crying out for a break. The hours were always crazy for a livestock vet; that was just part of the gig. They were especially crazy in the role Meg had found herself in. Working for an industrial-sized beef farm, there was a constant stream of tasks that needed her attention. Vaccinations, hoof care, general cuts and scrapes were all ordinary items on her to-do list. Not to mention if an animal decided to get extra spicy or extra stupid, she might have to help wrangle it out of a fence or some other predicament.

Office hours weren’t a thing around here. Animals got sick and injured any time of day or night, not just conveniently between the hours of nine and five. This was all fine, really. Meg had known what she was signing up for. Occasionally you were going to get a call at two in the morning that a heifer was having trouble giving birth and you would have to get up and go to work. The problem was that Mitch, the weasel, had found an excuse to call her out almost every night for a month running.

Industrial lots like this,bigfarms with thousands and thousands of cattle, ran things a bit different to what was in kids’ storybooks about old MacDonald. It wasn’t a rancher that tended the land, keeping a watchful eye over the herd; it was a company. The company hired employees, just like they hadhired Meg. And the company, in its eternal wisdom, had decided to promote Mitch Walsh, of all people, as lead supervisor a month ago. Which was about the same time that Meg’s life had become a living hell. What a coincidence.

“You’ve been a super good cow,” Meg mumbled into the furry flank. “Definitely my favorite cow in the whole yard. You just keep standing there. You’re doing a great job.”

The heifer didn’t bother to acknowledge her gratitude speech, which was just fine. It meant that Meg could keep using her as a pillow for a little while longer.

“Hey, Meg?”

Never mind.

“Go away,” she said, refusing to open her eyes. She was going to squeeze out every second of relaxation that she could.

“Are you okay?”

Luckily Meg didn’t need to open her eyes to know who had found her.

“I’m on a break, Dougie. This better be a life-or-death situation.”

Dougie was quiet and said nothing, but Meg didn’t hear any footsteps walking away either… She sighed and prepared to reenter the world of the living, reluctantly peeking an eye open. But she was also going to keep leaning against the cow for as long as humanly possible.

Dougie was an extraordinarily tall farm hand with blond hair, wearing the same standard-issue coveralls that they were all given. Right now he was looking at Meg with a grimace.

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