Page 4 of Tame Me Daddy

"Ah, maple syrup country! Man, that's a long way from here." She shook her head appreciatively. "We need to get you some fucken boots, stat. Those sneakers'll be destroyed by week's end."

We turned onto the highway, and the truck picked up speed. The landscape scrolled past my window—golden fields dotted with occasional cattle, distant farm buildings shimmering in heat mirages, and endless sky. So different from Vermont's green mountains and dense forests. The emptiness had its own stark beauty, but it felt exposed, nowhere to hide.

"So what's the ranch like?" I asked, desperate to know what I was driving toward.

"Warwick? It's one of the best in the county. Grant runs a tight ship, but he's fair." Maya tapped her fingers against the steering wheel in time with the music. "About two thousand acres, mostly cattle operation with some horses. Grant's been modernizing things since he took over from his dad. Better facilities, more sustainable practices."

"How many people work there?"

"About fifteen full-time, more during busy seasons. Most of the guys have been there for years." She glanced my way. "It'll be nice having another woman around. Been just me for the past couple months since Darlene retired."

My stomach tightened. I'd be even more visible than I'd feared.

"What about the . . . living situation?" I tried to keep my voice casual.

"Workers' quarters are behind the main house. Small rooms, but private. Shared bathrooms, one for women, one for men. Common area with a TV, kitchen privileges though most folks eat in the mess hall." She must have noticed my expression because she added, "Don't worry—people respect privacy. We all work too hard to have energy for nosiness."

I exhaled slightly. Private room. At least that was something.

We passed a weathered sign for a cattle auction. The highway stretched empty before and behind us.

"We're vaccinating the southern herd tomorrow," Maya continued. "You ever done that before?"

I shook my head.

"No problem. I'll show you. It's easy once you get the hang of it." She adjusted her side mirror. "I was a vet assistant before this, so I handle most of the medical stuff. You'll be on restraint duty—holding the calves while I stick 'em."

My experience with cattle was limited to my uncle's small dairy herd. The thought of wrestling angry beef cattle made my palms sweat.

"They're big animals," I murmured.

"Yeah, but there's a technique to it. Grant's good about training new folks properly." She pronounced his name with a respect that caught my attention.

"What's he like? Grant, I mean." I'd only heard his voice on the phone—deep, authoritative.

Maya considered this. "Fair, like I said. Expects a lot but gives a lot too. Not much for small talk, but he notices everything." Her voice carried that tone again—admiration, maybe even affection. "He's the kind of boss who works alongside everyone else. Never asks someone to do something he wouldn't do himself."

"He sounded . . . intense. On the phone."

Maya laughed. "Oh, he can be. Especially with new folks. But once he sees you're serious about the work, he softens up." She turned down the radio slightly. "Just don't mistake his quiet for disapproval. Man's just thoughtful."

The way she described him made me picture someone older, weathered by years of outdoor work. Someone stern but fair. Someone perceptive—which made me uneasy. Perceptive people noticed things. Things like someone fighting to stay in their adult headspace when stressed.

"How long have you been at Warwick?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Just a couple months. I was the newbie until you showed up." Maya smiled. "City life was burning me out. Needed openspaces." She cast me a sideways glance. "What about you? What brings a Vermont girl all the way to Texas cattle country?"

The question I'd been dreading. I gave her the practiced half-truth I'd rehearsed on the bus.

"Needed a change. Family situation got . . . complicated." I stared out the window, hoping she wouldn't press. "I've always been good with animals. The accommodation was a big factor too."

I felt Maya's eyes on me briefly before returning to the road. She had a perceptiveness that made me nervous, like she could see the ragged edges of my story.

"Well, sometimes a fresh start is exactly what a person needs." Her voice held no judgment, just understanding. "And complicated family shit? Join the club. Half the ranch has that in common."

She didn't push for details, and gratitude washed through me. Maya seemed to instinctively know when to let something lie.

"Though I should warn you," she added with a small smile, "I've never seen someone look so terrified at the mention of cattle restraint."

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