Page 20 of Extreme Romancing in Idaho

He placed it in the empty slot and rubbed his hands together. “What next?”

Narrowing my eyes, I stalked past him to my horse. As usual, she chose to be where I was. She padded to me, leaned over her stall, and nudged me with her nose.

“This is Mae. She’s a sweetheart. I’ll be taking care of her mainly, but you’ll be mucking out her stall.” I walked to the wall and pulled a pitchfork from the rack. “There’s a wheelbarrow over there.” I pointed to the other end of the barn and shoved the handle at him.

Mae’s ears flicked forward at Remi’s intruding presence. Her eyes dilated and she straightened her neck, examining him.

“You want me to do this now? With the horse in the stall?” His eyes widened as he looked at Mae.

“Sure. She’s good about staying out of the way.”

“She’s too big to stay out of the way.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “How often am I supposed to do this?”

“Every evening. Would you want to sleep in your own urine and manure?” Criminy, what kind of operation did he think I ran here? My animals were my top priority, especially Mae.

“No. But I’m housebroken, so I don’t think you have to worry about that.” He quirked his eyebrows at me.

Determined not to reward him for his joke, I cleared my throat, stifled my laugh, and took on a nonchalance attitude while digging through the tack box.

I froze.

There … in the corner of the box … was the beginnings of a wasp nest. Two wasps with their wings in line with their body clung to black hexagonal pockets with their spikey, spindly legs. My knees weakened, barely maintaining the ability to hold my weight.

Skin tensed along my spine, and the phantom pain of multiple stings struck me, reminiscent of the time a wasp had gotten stuck under my shirt. I jumped backward.

“What are you doing?” Remi asked.

“Wasps,” I managed to squeak, pointing to the small hive. “Your job includes eradicating these useless insects whose only purpose in life is to inflict pain.”

“Hm.” Leaning into the handle of the pitchfork, he scratched his chin. “Have we stumbled on another one of your fears?”

I tugged at the bottom of my shirt. “You’re confusing fear with respect. I respect they’re devils sent here to torment me, and they respect I will kill them on sight.”

His face cracked into a smile, and he shook his head. “What do you need in there?”

“A bottle of deodorizing dust.”

Exhibiting bravery as I’d never seen before, he reached his bare arm past their glossy eyes. After a moment, he pulled a bottle out from the box and held it out to me. “Is this it?”

“Yes. Sprinkle the damp spots. You don’t have to clear out the straw every day, just the soiled parts of it and refresh it with more if needed. Once a week, take it all out and lay down new bedding.”

He looked from the stall to the pitchfork, to the bottle, to Mae, and back to me. “And where do I get more straw?”

“There’s a stack outside, under the tarp. If you need a shovel, it’s hanging on the rack on the wall.” My phone pinged, and I hustled toward the barn door.

“Wait.” He dropped the deodorizing powder and stopped me. “Is that Smoot?”

I tugged my phone out of my pocket, knowing it was Daniel before I looked at the screen. “Maybe.” I smiled as I read his message.

I can’t stop thinking about you. Am I sending you too many messages? I don’t want to chase you off.

We’d been messaging almost constantly since we matched, although Daniel’s interest increased when I used Remington for his expertise. Whenever Remi wasn’t in my immediate vicinity, I’d safely steer our conversations away from extreme sports to my more well-versed subjects.

Haha. I’m worried I’ll scare you off with all the talk I’ve been doing about farming.

Let’s FaceTime tonight.

Dan’s reply lit up on my screen as if he’d been in tune with my thoughts.

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