Page 13 of Claimed By the Cowboys
“Thank you.” I smiled, taking a seat next to the little girl who was looking at me with wide eyes. “Hello! I’m Piper. What’s your name?”
I already knew her name, of course, but I wanted to ask and greet her.
“I’m Maisie Rae,” she whispered, looking at me cautiously, like she was unsure what to make of me. She was adorable, with chubby cheeks, bright blue eyes, and blonde curls that were hanging wildly around her face. Her voice had a little country lilt that had me wanting to squeal from the cuteness of it.
Did she take after her mother? Her white-blonde curls didn’t quite match any of the alphas, and I was curious, though I knew better than to ask. I doubted they would need me if her mother was around, and the last thing I needed was to stick my foot in my mouth within hours of starting my new job.
“Such a pretty name!” I cooed, as Dakota placed a small plate full of chopped bacon, toast, and scrambled eggs in front of the toddler. She started nibbling on her food, but her eyes kept returning to me every few seconds.
Sometimes children just needed a little time to warm up to someone. A new person was probably highly unusual, as she wasn’t in school yet and lived in a pretty remote area.
“So today we can take it easy, get to know each other, and I’ll show you around the ranch,” Dakota said as he placed a plate in front of me.
“Thank you,” I replied, picking up a fork and smiling at Maisie, who was still watching me intently. As soon as I took the first bite, she nodded happily, returning her focus to her own food.
Dakota joined us at the table, his own plate in hand. “The first job of the day is going to be the chickens!” he declared, beaming at Maisie. “That’s this little monster’s favorite. She’s the best egg collector.”
“How many chickens do you have?” I directed the question to Maisie, who smiled.
“Lots! Like hundreds and hundreds!”
My eyes shot to Dakota, who was smirking. Hundreds? I thought they owned a cattle ranch, not a chicken ranch… Did chickens even have ranches?
“We have about thirty chickens who lay eggs—our little lady has a habit of over-exaggerating just how big her little flock is.”
I nodded, placated by his answer. Thirty was a lot of chickens, but definitely more manageable than hundreds.
“Do you collect all the eggs?” I asked.
Maisie nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I has a basket.”
“Can I come with you to collect the eggs? I would love to see!”
Dakota said nothing, sitting back and watching us with a smile on his face.
“You can come. I has little hands, so Daddies help me pick up all the eggies.” She held out her tiny hand, showing me just how little her fingers were.
I nodded seriously. “Yes, the daddies have big hands and can pick up a lot of eggs!”
Across from us, Dakota snorted but quickly covered his mouth with his hand. “We’ve got a lot of big things,” he muttered around his mouthful of bacon.
His words took a moment to settle in, but when they did, my face heated furiously. Throwing him a withering gaze while he did his best to contain his laughter, I turned back to Maisie.
The little girl was distracted by her food, so we ate in comfortable silence for a few moments while I pointedly avoided looking at Dakota.
It was hard enough ignoring the cute toddler’s annoyingly hot fathers, without them making innuendos.
I had never been around chickens.
Cooked chickens? Sure, they were delicious, and I was a huge fan.
The living creatures, on the other hand? They freaked me out.
It was the pecking and the beady little eyes that did it for me.
“You take this,” Maisie instructed, handing me a basket as we headed for the coop. Dakota was with us, but he was hanging back slightly, seemingly happy to watch me with Maisie. He probably wanted to ensure I wasn’t completely inept before he left his child with me, but was being polite about it.
I was thankful it was him and not Clayton.
