Page 7 of Cowboy Falling Hard

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t. Not really. I just wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to me.”

Her eyes met his, and she was reminded of the look they’d shared across the arena.

Maybe he was thinking of that too because he didn’t answer her, just held her gaze.

In her experience, he was arrogant, a little cocky even, but always with a ready smile.

Tonight, just now, he wasn’t smiling.

Mr. Reynolds was waiting on her, so she didn’t linger. Instead, she said, “If you would help me, that would be wonderful.”

“You’re going to have to tell me what to do.”

He seemed willing to listen, which surprised her, because from the few times she’d talked to him, she thought of him as arrogant. She appreciated his humble attitude.

“I need the two red white-faced feeders and the black Angus.” She pointed to the three steers. “I’ll go in and get them, you stand by the gate and don’t let any of the other three out.”

“Got it.”

She thought about telling him to watch the two-year-old bull, but usually young bulls weren’t a problem. She didn’t want to take the time to explain something that really didn’t need to be said since Dwight would be fine behind the gate if the bull decided to do something unusual.

Moving into the pen, she kept her eye on it, just in case, as she went to get the Angus which was closest to the gate.

She was able to separate him from the others easily, and as she moved him toward the gate, she said, “Open it now!”

He moved immediately, and the Angus went out without any trouble, going down the aisle in the direction she wanted.

“Close it again until I’m ready,” she said, and he obeyed immediately.

She moved to get closer to the Herefords, but the entire group moved along with them, and she figured she’d let them walk by the gate and try to separate them out as they came around again.

But Dwight must have thought he could open the gate fast enough, or maybe he thought she just forgot to tell him to open it.

Whatever it was, he opened the gate as the group went by, and as cattle often do, they all charged out the opening, eager to be out of the pen and away from the person who was walking among them.

“Uh, oops,” he said, trying to shut the gate, but too late.

“It’s okay. It happens to people who’ve been doing it for years.”

“I just saw the red ones going by and thought I could catch them.”

“You might have been able to. Once in a while, that’ll work. Most of the time, it doesn’t.”

“Which was probably why you didn’t tell me to open the gate.”

She looked at him, smiling.

“Sorry. What now?”

She had made it to the edge and let herself out of the gate, latching it behind her.

“Lavender is down at the end. I’ll tell her what I want, and we’ll separate them out. Maybe whoever bought the other three will be there, and we can load those too. And if not, we’ll stick them in an empty pen. Thanks for your help.”

“I’ll come down and give you hand.”

She wasn’t expecting that. She glanced at him. He wore a T-shirt, jeans, and boots. Nothing fancy.

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