Page 21 of The Dire Reaction

I even had to call my sister for help. She stopped by Tuesday to pick up the truck receipts. We sent almost five hundred head of cattle down to the rail yards this last shipment, and all the tare weight tickets came in. With it being the beginning of October the monthly billing needed to be done, even if I felt like shit.

One day, hopefully soon, they’ll go to digital copies instead of the printouts that we have to hand enter in on our side.

Story of the ages though, the middle men never give a shit about the producers. Just get the products through as fast as possible.

It’s eerie being around the animals now. I can hear their heartbeats. Individual mice scurrying through the barn sound like raindrops on a tin roof. The barn cats that chase them have a softer step, but I can still hear the death screams with each one as they’re caught.

The chickens sound like they have grinding gears in their guts, the muscles of their gizzards working when I walk by.

One day I hope this either stops or I get used to it. The phantom noises I can’t explain creep me out. I can never tell if they’re close or far away.

Moving cows, I can hear their bellies as they digest their food. One older cow smells different. I’m able to get her peeled off with the help of my confused looking ranch hands. When I check her out, she has a leaking abscess under her chest.

I’d have never caught it before. She very likely would have died from it. Now, I have her in the barn and already started her on antibiotics. My improved nose is an asset, apparently.

A low hum catches my attention. It slowly gets louder until I can hear the crunch of gravel under tires.

“Come on, Red, time to see the doc.” I touch my ankle to the big roan’s side to turn him back to the house.

It’s still unnerving listening to his heart beating between my legs. Hearing the air rushing in and out of his lungs. The pungent crush of plants beneath his hooves.

It all fades into background noise as my eyes focus on that little blue Toyota pickup pulling into my driveway.

Her long blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail, her red fleece ear warmer hugging underneath. I’m clear across the pasture, but I can see the pink in her cheeks, the little purse in her pouty lips when her eyes find me.

My cock fills in my jeans, rubbing uncomfortably against the saddlehorn.

Oh, fuck, this might be harder than I thought.

Chapter eleven

DANI

Thismightbeharderthan I thought.

I watch him ride up on his horse, his black cowboy hat pulled low, his hips rolling with every step of the animal beneath him. Jaw set, his blue eyes meet mine. I can see the flare of his nostrils, the little smile that pulls up the corner of his full lips.

He disappears into the darkness of the barn, and I realize I was holding my breath.

I can’t grip the steering wheel hard enough. My breath is coming in tiny gasps. Tremors grip my belly. The tingles of arousal work across my nipples.

Losing control in front of him is not going to happen.

But, what if he’s struggling, too. What if he’s fighting this pull, this need, every time he thinks about me?

One can hope.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I crawl out of my truck into the cold October morning. The woodsmoke from the fire and the manure smell from the barn wrap around me in an almost calming way. Much less chaotic than the foreign smells that taint the air of town and burn my eyes with the violent way they permeate every sense.

I’m just slipping the bag of meds and supplies over my shoulder when I hear the gravel crunching under his boots.

“Good morning, Dani.” His lips curl around my name. It’s the first time I’ve heard it rumble from his chest. My stomach flips onto its side, tugging at both my chest and my loins.

I’m breathing too quickly. His scent of leather, horse and pine pushes across me. Something deeper lingers too, a musky earthy cologne that ripples under my skin and sharpens my nipples beneath my shirt.

“Hi, Sam, how are you this morning?” My tongue feels fat and swollen in my mouth as I’m grasping at an innocent phrase instead of what I really want to say. How do you say “ravage me” and have it part of a normal conversation?

“Better, now that you’re here.” His eyes dance around the steam of his words escaping, thickening in the cold air. I can hear his hands tightening into fists in the pockets of his coat, his fingers popping faintly, but loudly enough that they sound like an ax striking a log to my ears.

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