Page 32 of Tame Me Daddy

"He didn't fire me, if that's what everyone's wondering," I replied, aiming for lightness but hearing the tension in my voice.

"Nobody thought he would," Maya said with a soft snort. "Grant doesn't give up on people easily." She glanced at me sideways. "But whatever happened in there—" she gestured vaguely at me from head to toe, "—changed something fundamental about the way you carry yourself."

We reached the water trough at the edge of the path, and I was grateful for the chance to pause.

"He helped me face some fears," I finally said, choosing my words with care. The truth, but not all of it. "He made me see that I was stronger than I thought."

"Must have been some pep talk," Maya commented with a knowing smile that made my insides squirm. How much did she suspect?

I allowed myself a small smile in return. "Something like that."

We continued toward the south pasture, the conversation shifting to the fence repair we needed to complete. The physical work was a relief after the probing questions. I hammered fence staples with more force than necessary, grateful for the outlet.

Later, as we moved a small group of heifers from one pasture to another, I had a chance to demonstrate my improved handling techniques. A nervous young cow balked at the gate, rolling her eyes and stamping. Without thinking, I stepped forward with quiet confidence, pitched my voice low and steady.

"Easy, girl," I murmured, placing a gentle hand on her flank. "You're alright." I applied the slightest pressure and the heifer moved forward through the gate without further protest.

When I looked up, Maya was watching me with raised eyebrows.

"You're a quick study," she remarked, closing the gate behind us. "Some people work here for years and never get that connection with the animals."

A rush of pride flooded through me, warming my chest.

"I'm starting to understand what you meant about them sensing our energy," I explained, removing my gloves and tucking them into my back pocket. "When I'm not fighting myself, they respond better."

Maya nodded thoughtfully, untying her bandana and retying it to catch the escaped strands of her dark hair. "Fighting yourself? That's an interesting way to put it."

I hadn't meant to reveal so much, but the words had slipped out. Still, it felt good to acknowledge even that small part of my truth. "I guess we all have parts of ourselves we're not comfortable with," I said, my gaze fixed on the distant hills. "Sometimes it's easier to pretend they don't exist."

"Until they come charging out like a bull from a pen," Maya finished with a knowing laugh. She bumped her shoulder against mine gently. "Whatever Grant said to help you integrate those parts, I'm glad. You seemed . . . fragmented when you first got here. Like you were constantly checking yourself, holding something back. The stuff you mentioned about your family? Your lifestyle choices."

I swallowed hard, surprised by her insight. "Was it that obvious?"

Maya shrugged. "Maybe not to everyone. But I've got three younger sisters. You learn to read people." She paused, then added softly, "And I know what it's like to have pieces of yourself that you don't show the world."

The confession hung in the air between us, an offering. For a moment, I considered telling her everything—about my little side, about finding acceptance with Grant, about the way he'd seen all of me and hadn't flinched. But the newness of it all made me protective, unwilling to risk even Maya's judgment.

"Thanks," I said instead. "For not making me feel like a complete idiot this past week."

"Hey, we all start somewhere." Maya grinned. "You should've seenmemy first week here. I was all theory and no practice. Kept quoting my veterinary textbooks while the cattle completely ignored me."

We shared a laugh as we gathered our tools and headed back toward the main complex. The afternoon sun beat down on our shoulders, but the work felt good now, purposeful.

"He's a good man, you know," Maya said suddenly as we approached the barn. "Grant, I mean."

My pulse quickened. "Oh?"

"Yeah. My second week here, I made a medication error with one of the pregnant cows. Could have been serious. Most bosses would've torn me a new one, maybe even fired me." She paused, adjusting her hat. "But Grant just sat me down, went through exactly what happened, helped me understand what went wrong and how to make sure it never happened again."

I nodded, glad to be discussing Grant in a professional context. "He's a good teacher."

"More than that," Maya said. "He sees people. Recognizes their potential, even when they don't see it themselves." She shot me another one of those knowing looks. "That's rare."

I made a noncommittal sound, but warmth spread through my chest at her words. Grant did see me—all of me—when I'd spent most of my life trying to be invisible.

As we stored our tools in the barn, Maya slung her arm around my shoulders briefly. "Whatever's happening with you, I'm glad. It’s good to see you smile."

The simple acceptance in her words lodged somewhere deep in my chest. Maybe someday I'd tell her the whole truth. I didn’t like to keep it from her. For now, it was enough to have a friend who could see the change in me and celebrate it without needing all the details.

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