Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“He’s riding well for you,” I say, bringing Midnight to a canter so he can catch up to us. “Was finicky with Jeb last week.”
“Well, Jeb ain’t me,” he says with that cocky smirk, and I have to look away to get my breathing under control. “Besides, geldings are the easiest to ride.”
“Because they’ve been emasculated?” Bulldog says with a laugh, sidling up to us.
It’s true that castrating stallions reduces aggression, especially when mares are in heat. But if that stallion isn’t going to be used for breeding, it’s almost a kindness to perform the procedure. At least that’s what Dr. Roy always told me as a kid.
“Pretty sure that’s you,” Jeb teases, which makes Bulldog chase after him.
“Ignore them.” I roll my eyes. The guys always tease each other, sometimes mercilessly, and where there are female hands around, it’s even worse. As if they need to show their bravado.
Cowboys. Sigh. Still isn’t any better job in the world.
“So you were saying…why are they the best to ride?”
“I said easiest, but I suppose the best too.” He looks off in the distance. “They get no respect just because they’ve been sterilized. Mares can be stubborn, stallions can be temperamental, but geldings…they’re usually laid-back, simpler to handle. In short, they don’t have anything to prove.”
Porter gives me a pointed look, and I don’t know if he’s referring to me or himself. Maybe both.
Am I trying to prove something to him? Possibly. Though I’m not sure what. Maybe that I’m not attempting to get in his pants anymore. That wasn’t all it was about back then, despite being horny teenagers. Over time it became more. Way more. At least to me.
The next few hours go smoothly as we move the cattle north to greener pastures, then perform our daily wellness check. Since the Q fever outbreak last month, we haven’t had any more stillborn births, and that’s a blessing.
The air turns increasingly muggy, and the horses are beginning to get skittish. That’s when I notice the dark clouds rolling in over the mountain. It’s not that cattle and horses can’t be out in foul weather, but if it lasts too long, they do get cold and seek warm places to dry off. Too many days of that, and they can show signs of fatigue, which is never good for livestock.
It’s hard to tell how long this rainstorm will last, but it definitely looks worse than anticipated. Showers tend to pass quickly around here, with the occasional exception. No way would we want muddy conditions the animals can get their hooves stuck in. That’s a whole other issue.
When a handful of cows begin lying down, I know they sense a strong storm coming. Most will bolt for the fence line or seek shelter under trees, but these are our pregnant heifers, and the tension is evident.
“That always fascinates me,” Porter says, watching the cattle’s behavior.
“Same. There’s gotta be something to it.”
Some say the atmospheric pressure bothers them, and others say they stake their claim by lying down on dry grass before a heavy rain.
“What should we do, boss?” Wade asks at the first rumble of thunder.
We’d normally wait out the storm, but since we’re only running about half of our herd today, and most are pregnant, better safe than sorry.
“I think we can outrun the storm clouds, and even if we can’t, we can still get them safe and under cover.”
“Sounds good,” he says, then yells to his men, “Round ’em up. We’re headed back.”
No one questions the decision. These men have been through enough inclement weather to last a lifetime. They know exactly what to do as they surround the cattle and begin moving them in the direction of the cattle barn. It’s not large enough to hold seven hundred cattle, but we use it in times like these, and especially for the two hundred or so pregnant cows. The dogs join in, barking and herding any that get out of line. We’re like a well-oiled machine, and with the addition of Porter, it feels even more gratifying. Even though it shouldn’t.
By the time we get in viewing distance of the cowshed, we’re drenched. Given that the storm seems to be sticking around, it was the right decision. The lightning is making all the animals jittery, and they’ll be more comfortable in their enclosures.
Wade and Porter lead the cattle into the stalls, while the others take the back end of the herd. My parents would’ve made sure the cattle have plenty of water, hay, and alfalfa as soon as they caught wind of the impending storm.
I leave the barn and head toward the stables to make sure Pixie is ready for us. She’d had help from the other grooms, whose sole job is to care for and train our horses, but I like giving her the responsibility. She always rises to the occasion. I think her dad appreciates it too, though he doesn’t always show it. Besides, once school starts in the fall, she won’t be around that much anymore.