Page 2 of In Plain Sight

All that said, I didn’t much mind the milking machines for the dairy cattle that Thomas had installed, even before he took over as Alpha. Those made sense. We had too many heads to manually milk them all and keep them happy. But feeding didn’t take long. I sighed, knowing it was likely a losing battle. I would slowly be replaced by machines. Cowgirls were a dying breed due to technology, but I’d keep my head up and fight the transition every step of the way.

“Good morning, Mellie,” I said as I entered the nursery and saw our latest new mama looking restless. I walked over and petted her. I had never seen a cow with a stomach so big. Davidson said she was having twins, but I was beginning to wonder if there weren’t more in there. I lovingly stroked her back. “It won’t be much longer, sweet girl.”

The nursery was on the backside of the dairy barn. Inside the barn were rows and rows of stalls for the lactating cows to hook up to the milking machine. Some farms just left them attached all the time. That was cruel and unnecessary to me. My girls hooked up in the mornings, then set out to free-range the grounds until mid-afternoon and again in the evenings. Many would argue it was more work than necessary, but my girls were happy and gave me no trouble. I didn’t mind the extra work to give them a good life.

The pregnant cows there came in as they got close to delivery and stayed until the young cows were six weeks old. I manually milked them three times a day to increase their production and get them used to the schedule.

After that they moved back into general population with the other mothers. The babies were moved with them to free-range, and then nursed throughout the day until they weaned at around six months, another reason I was so adamant about not leaving them hooked up to machines all day long. Many operations bottle-fed their young to maximize the amount of milk production from the cows. The care of the animals was my number one priority; profit came second to that. Fortunately, while Thomas and I butted heads on many things, he had never argued that point with me.

We were wolf shifters. Carrying an animal spirit within us gave a different outlook and approach to the animals. Sure, many of our practices weren’t conventional. Some would even argue our methods were archaic. Every few years we faced an audit by the government. It was a pain in the ass, but necessary to the sustainability of the industry side of farming. While they’d given pointers on how to increase production and streamline our processes, they couldn’t argue with my methods or deem anything illegal.

My morning chores completed in relative peace, I decided to take a ride.

“Morning, sweet Ruby,” Austin yelled, and waved from the field as I walked over to the horse stables. He was a handsome fella, but too young for me. He was friends with my baby brother, for crying out loud. Not that it would ever stop me from hooking up with a couple of the other Six Pack. For some reason, Austin always just seemed like the youngest of the group. I refused to see him in any other way, though that certainly never stopped him from trying. Truth be told, I liked him trying, which was probably why I’d never hook up with him.

“Ruby Red, is that you?” Mr. Draper hollered out from the stables. He’d been tending to our horses since before I was born.

“Morning, Mr. Draper,” I yelled back.

“Ruby, Cochise didn’t come back last night. You know that’s not like him. Austin and Conlin are about to head on out and look around for him, but if you’re planning to go for a ride, do me a favor and keep an eye out, too.”

“I will. Thanks for the heads up,” I told him.

It wasn’t like the old stallion not to come searching for a meal at night. I truly hoped he was okay.

“Want me to saddle Cinnamon up for you?” Mr. Draper offered.

“That would be great, thanks,” I said. Normally I would insist on doing it myself, but my brain was already busy calculating out all the places Cochise could have wandered off to.

Conlin led his horse from the barn. The guy was a total stud and we’d been flirting with each other for weeks. “You riding out with us, Ruby?” he asked with a wink and a smile.

“Nah, go on. I’ll keep my eye out for him, though, and radio in if I find him.”

Conlin nodded and rode out to meet up with Austin. I wasn’t far behind them.

“Good morning, Cinnamon. How’s my sweet boy?” I cooed at the only true man in my life. Cinnamon and I had grown up together. He was the first horse I’d ever helped bring into this world and I knew from that day on that caring for animals was all I ever wanted to do. He was my best friend and confidant. I loved that horse more than anything.

I mounted him and gave him some more love and encouragement before we headed out at a trot. Mr. Draper opened the gate to the field, and we took off at a full run. Loose strands of hair flew from my bun in wild flames of red. Riding like that with the wind in my hair was as great and as exhilarating as running in my wolf form. It felt just as natural, man and beast as one.

I rode for hours but saw no signs of Cochise. Just as I was about to turn around and head back to the stables, I got a whiff of something foreign in the air. It didn’t set my wolf on edge, though—quite the opposite.

I sniffed the air around me in a sort of drug-induced daze. It was the most alluring scent I’d ever encountered, yet there was an edge of danger to it, too. Nervous excitement shook my body. I had to know what that smell was.

I kept Cinnamon at a trot, then slowed to a walk as the scent grew stronger. I narrowed in on a small patch of trees and dismounted to continue tracking on foot. I tied my horse’s reigns to a low branch and hesitantly entered the thicket.

Wolf! I caught the distinct aroma of another wolf shifter in the area, but it wasn’t Collier, and I was certain it wasn’t a Larken wolf, either. Larkens were another local pack. We often had run-ins with them, and had trouble keeping them off Collier land. We had once all been one pack, so their scent was very similar to that of a Collier wolf, but this was definitely not that.

I tiptoed deeper in, one tree at a time, trying not to make a sound. My hands shook, but I wasn’t afraid. There was something comforting about the scent. I knew I was downwind and that if I could stay quiet enough, I should be able to sneak up and get a reading on the threat without him or her noticing me. That was my plan, at least.

I picked up a flash of sulfur in the air, then it was gone, followed by cursing from a deep male voice that reverberated through my entire body. I had to squeeze my legs together as my sex clenched at the sound.

I ducked as the man came into view. My voice caught in my throat at the sight and I was paralyzed. I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to.

He was wearing tight, lowcut jeans and a white T-shirt that looked like it was molded to his body. My mouth watered. I couldn’t see his face, but from his backside he had the most perfect body I’d ever seen.

He was bent over a small stack of kindling, trying to start a fire but struggling. He struck another match as a flash of sulfur hit my nose again and then I watched it die out before it caught. He cursed again, and a flutter ran through my chest at the sound of his voice. In his frustration, his unique scent burst from him, coating the air around me.

I fought back a moan, feeling that headiness I experienced the first time I smelled him.

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