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Morning came in the middle of the night. Or so it seemed to Zack as he struggled to get his foot into the matching boot while the cowgirls all happily chirped away underneath him.
“You coming?” Sam’s head popped up, seemingly through the floor. Man, he needed to get his eyes to focus fast.
It was the second time she’d asked him that question. However, at this ungodly hour of the morning, he couldn’t even feel his pulse, much less detect an increase in its rate of speed.
He waved his foot at her. “Boots.”
In the bald light he’d managed to turn on this morning, Sam’s smile shone bright. At least someone was awake. “Granny thought you might need coffee.” She set the travel mug on the top step.
“Thanks.” Although he had no idea how he was going to hold a mug and hang onto a horse at the same time, he appreciated the thought. So he drank the whole thing in a minute and apologized to his bladder in advance.
By the time he got downstairs, everyone but Sam was in the saddle. Oh, her horse was saddled, but she was standing in the middle of the barn, her arms crossed, waiting on him.
“Sorry,” he said as he grabbed his saddle.
“Come on, city boy! We’ve got cattle to work!”
Heaven again. So not his type. At least this time she wasn’t flirting. He tried to smile at her but he was pretty sure all he managed was a scowl.
“Oh, yeah,” Lindy said. “This is going to work out real well.”
Zack kept his attention focused on Sam. It was safer that way. “What are we doing?”
Sam’s arms stayed crossed but he thought he saw a crook of a smile in one corner of her mouth. “We’re working calves. You’re going to watch.”
“That’s bullshit.” It sounded like Lindy spit into the dirt after she said it.
“Awww!” Heaven’s horse walked back into the light. “Come on, Sam! He should at least try to hold a calf.” She swung her gaze toward him. “You can hold a calf, can’t you?”
“Sure.” Although what holding a calf entailed was still a little fuzzy. Hell, it was four forty in the morning. Everything was still fuzzy. He tried to ignore Heaven and focus on getting the girth flipped up over the saddle.
“See? He can do it. He’s here to work, ain’t he?”
What was that noise? Oh—Sam’s fingers tapping on her upper arm. “Andy,” she called out over Heaven’s head.
“Yeah?”
“You and the girls head on out. North pasture. We’ll catch up.”
Heaven scowled at Sam, and for the first time, Zack didn’t see a flirt. He saw a woman to be reckoned with. “You made me hold a calf my first time out,” she spat out like she’d gotten a bad batch of chewing tobacco. Her horse wheeled and raced off.
“I can hold a calf,” Zack said after the hoof beats faded. He had the girth fastened and the horse bridled. This was officially not sucking—or maybe that was the coffee talking. “You don’t have to make an exception for me.”
Sam said nothing, but watched him through hooded eyes as he checked the girth again. He could guess what she was thinking.
He was already the exception.
***
The sounds of agitated cows filled the air. “I can do this,” Zack said, more to himself than to her. It was the first thing either of them had said in miles.
“You really want to hold a calf?” Not that Sam doubted him. He could build a textbook campsite and saddle a horse while half-asleep. Even if he couldn’t, she was sure he’d pick it up. He was nothing if not a quick study.
“Oh, yeah!” There it was again, that boyish eagerness.
Sam wondered if this was what Grampa had been like when he’d first come west years ago.
“I don’t want Heaven or Lindy to be mad at you. But you’ll show me how, right?”
He didn’t want either of the girls to be mad at her? It sounded oddly protective. Not bad, but a little odd. “Right.”
With their head start, the girls had almost finished cutting the calves from their mothers. The cows stood behind the pens, mooing for their young as the calves nervously trotted around.
“Nice of you to join us,” Andy hollered over the racket.
“You ready to get started?” Sam yelled back. The question was pointless, though. Heaven had the cattle situation under control, while Lindy had the fire burning. It was the only fire she got to light. Andy had all the meds and tools were laid out how Sam liked them.
They dismounted. Zack watched while Sam hitched Stitch to the post, then did the exact same thing. A very quick study.
Usually, when Sam hired a new hand, they watched for a while to get the rhythm of how things worked. But Heaven was giving her the death-on-a-stick look, Lindy was still muttering about how bullshit this was and Zack was clearly chomping at the bit to prove himself. “We’ll take this one slow,” she told Andy.
Andy grinned. Sam had to admit, she was curious to see if he really could handle himself.
“This ain’t no desk job,” Andy said as she grabbed the calf’s legs and neatly flipped the animal onto its side. She kneeled, pinning it to the ground.
“I guess not.” Zack’s eyes lit up. “Is that what I’m supposed to do?”
“Nope. This is your job.” Sam grabbed the hind leg that was in the air, put her foot on the hock that was on the ground, and sat down, splaying the calf’s legs out.
“Um, okay. I can do that.”
“Getting up is harder that getting down,” Andy said in warning. At least she still sounded friendly about it.
“Don’t get kicked,” Sam added as she let go. “Your turn.”
He grabbed the leg in the same spot and was on the ground in about thirty seconds.
“Not bad for a city boy!” Heaven shouted from back in the pen.
The calf was none too happy about being held twice in quick succession, but Zack didn’t lose his grip. “Now what?” he asked through gritted teeth as he clamped down on the calf.
Sam noted the way his muscles worked. Who would have thought a college man would have been able to do such a nice job right out of the gate? “Now we work the calf.”
“What does that mean, anyway?”
Andy began to laugh.
“It means this,” Sam said, picking up the jackknife and the emasculator. In a smooth motion, she castrated the calf. She gave the struggling animal the vaccine shot, and lastly, Lindy branded the calf. The whole process took about five minutes.
“You gonna throw up? Or pass out?” Andy laughed as the smell of singed fur briefly overrode the cow poop. “I got money riding on the outcome.”
“Um...” Looking a little green around the gills, Zack swallowed. “Um...”
“City boy looks like he’s gonna pass out,” Lindy called out loud enough that Heaven could hear. She sounded like she was hoping he would.
“Let me know if he barfs,” Heaven shouted back. “I could use the cash!”
“You can get up now,” Sam said, feeling a little sorry for him. Which was odd. She never felt sorry for anyone, really. She didn’t have time in her life for pity. “Let go and roll in the opposite direction of the hooves.”
Zack did as he was told at the same time Andy stood up. The calf bolted as Zack tried to stand. He only got as far as his knees.
Heaven and Lindy howled with laughter. Hell, even Andy was chuckling. Salt in the wound, Sam thought. Not necessary. She walked over to Zack. “You okay?”
“Sure. No problem. All good.” He tried to stand again, but started to tip.
Sam caught his arm. To steady him. Not to touch him again. “Easy, cowboy. The first one is always the hardest.”
His smile was mighty weak, but he managed to pull one off as he looked into her eyes. “Anyone ever throw up before?”
“You wouldn’t be the first, and probably not the last.”
He closed his eyes, made it to his feet, and ever so slightly leaned into her. She was not going to think about how good it felt. Nope. Not thinking about it—or how strong his biceps seemed. “Which way did Andy bet?”
She dug her fingers into his arm. To keep him balanced. Really. “That you wouldn’t.”
“I knew I liked her.” He took another deep breath, and then touched his gloved fingers to hers. “Thanks.”
For just a second, Sam felt normal. Which was, in its own way, exceptionally weird. After all, she was holding onto the arm of a man in the middle of a cattle pen. But he wasn’t looking at her like she was some sort of mutant because she was a woman who punched cattle. He looked at her with something that looked a hell of a lot more like admiration. Respect, even.
He pressed his fingers against hers. Tight. “I bet you’ve been doing this your whole life.”
That was definitely admiration. “Been holding calves since I was about seven. You get used to it.”
And he did. He held calves all damn morning as Sam castrated and Lindy branded. With the extra hands, they were done by lunchtime.
“Pay up,” Andy told Heaven as they rode back in.
“I didn’t think he’d make it.” Heaven sounded almost thoughtful. “I’m impressed.”
Zack rode behind the others, his head hanging. He’d made it, all right, but he looked less like a cowboy and more like a grad student out of his element.
Sam dropped back to ride beside him. “How you doing?”
“Good.” There was that hint of bravado again. “What else are we doing today?”
“That was it for the day. You were a big help. I thought we’d be out there until two or three.”
She couldn’t see his eyes under the shadow of the hat crammed on his head, but she could see that smile. Easy. Comfortable. Less boyish charm, more sheer manliness.
“I didn’t want to disappoint you, Sam.”
Before she knew what had happened, everything about her tightened down so hard that Stitch shot forward into a gallop, nearly unseating her.
She got her balance back and let Stitch run.
He didn’t want to disappoint her? Holy hell.
She needed to put as much space between her and Zack Baker as possible.