Talk About… Trouble (Rockwood Valley Omegaverse #4)

Chapter 7

Shepherd

“ C ome on, Mabel, please move,” I grunted as I tried to push the giant potbelly pig out of my way so I could get into the barn. She simply snorted at me and, I swear, gave me the sassiest side eye. “Look, I’ll give you a treat after, you brat.”

She slowly tottered away but I knew she’d be waiting right by that door to hold me to my word. I swear these animals were smarter than half the humans I’d met and twice as snarky.

My little rescue farm had turned into a whole sanctuary for the feistiest animals in the country. If it wasn’t Mabel trying to bully me, it was the emu Tank, or the cranky alpaca, Astrid, who spit at everyone… including me.

Aside from them, I had about a dozen chickens, a handful of goats, several dogs, cats, and even a slew of rabbits.

It was exhausting and I was desperate for help. Unfortunately the only workers I could find were ranch hands and they weren’t exactly able to keep up with a potbelly pig with diabetes or a dog with wheels.

I needed a vet tech so I could take a fucking breath once in a while.

A horn blared from outside and I tossed the last of the fresh hay down in the stalls before heading out to see what was going on. I wasn’t expecting any supply deliveries today and my last farmhand quit after getting spit on one too many times courtesy of Astrid.

When I walked out to see Braxton climbing out of his car I bit back a groan. Don’t get me wrong, the beta was the closest person I had to a real friend, but he always had some new charge for me to take on.

“No. I’m full,” I grumbled as I approached. He had the decency to blush and give me an apologetic smile.

“You know I can’t just let them suffer or be killed,” he pleaded. “I’d say ‘last one’ but we both know it would be a lie.”

“Your white knight complex is making me poor,” I countered. It was only a half-truth. He made sure the vet clinic he ran had enough funding to sponsor Harding Animal Rescue and Rehabilitation Farm. Which meant I saved an insane amount on vet visits and medication for my ragtag group of animals.

“Just wait,” he said, giving me a strained grin. I watched with more than a little suspicion as he rounded the transport truck to the back, opening up the back to reveal a small highland cow calf. She was watching us with big cautious eyes, her red fur falling into her eyes a bit and she was a bit unruly at the moment.

“What’s wrong with her?” I asked. He knew I didn’t like to tiptoe around reality. “Hit me with it so we can figure it out and move on.”

“She was the runt of the litter and had failure to thrive. Medically, she checks out just fine and I suspect they just didn’t treat her right because she was timid.”

The dark look in his eyes spoke volumes. It took a lot to rile up Brax and right now he looked like he could punch her previous owners. I’d seen him like this a time or two and it was part of the reason I couldn’t say no. He had a big heart and had, apparently, decided that we should be friends. It was more that I was adopted as a friend than that we’d mutually decided.

“Come on, girl,” I said gently, holding out a hand. The way she flinched told me that he was right. She’d have to go into the smaller barn until she adjusted. The sassy crew wouldn’t be good for her nature just yet.

“The bastards never gave her a name so the girls called her Poppy. It fits her,” he said, a soft smile on his face as he watched me stroke her fur.

It wasn’t just the beta who gave into these animals, I was really a big softy for them, too. Which was exactly how I’d ended up building a second barn out here.

Thanks to the petting zoo we ran on weekends and my inheritance from my grandfather, I’d been able to keep this place going. Though, sometimes the funds were a little too tight for comfort. Without this arrangement with Braxton I’d have a whole lot less animals around here.

“Where’s my boy?” he asked as I climbed out of the back of the truck, letting out a long whistle and laughing as Pretzel, our old basset hound, came ambling around the corner on his too small legs. He had a skin condition that meant medicated baths and fancy lotions, but otherwise he was a healthy boy.

A laugh escaped me as Braxton flopped right down on the ground and Pretzel half ran, half tripped on his ears, to hop right into the beta’s lap like he belonged there.

“Traitor,” I teased. Braxton just hugged the dog and blinked up at me like they were both the picture of innocence. “Maybe trouble would be more fitting.”

“True,” Brax laughed as he released my dog and stood, looking at the poor calf who still hadn’t moved.

To our surprise, Pretzel hopped right in and approached the cow. I tensed, ready to save his ass if I needed to, but instead he just tucked himself right under her big head and closed his eyes for a nap.

“I guess you’re staying for dinner while they get acquainted,” I said, shaking my head as I pulled out my phone and hit the button to close the main gate so she wouldn’t wander off if curiosity won out.

“What are we having?” Braxton grinned. The brat knew damn well if he came around this time I’d feed him.

“You’re helpless in the kitchen, aren’t you?” I shot back, kicking my boots off on the porch of the main house and heading in. This old place belonged to my grandfather once upon a time. He passed away when I was fifteen and it sat in disrepair until I turned eighteen.

My dads told me leading up to that birthday that I’d be on my own the day I became an adult. Lucky for me they’d forced me to grow up far too fast and be as independent as I could. I’d worked as a farmhand on local ranches enough that I claimed my inheritance and carved out a name for myself.

The last time I saw them was nearly six years ago. For two men that had to work hard to have a baby, you’d think that family would be a little more important.

Braxton was just as comfortable in my big, empty farmhouse as I was. Then again, it wasn’t empty with a few dogs and cats wandering in and out of the doggy doors. Thankfully most of them preferred to hang in the barns at night or this place would smell like the inside of a horse stall.

I just couldn’t turn Pretzel and Lancelot away when they wanted to stay here… every single night.

Speaking of, the squeak of wheels announced the other dog’s arrival.

“Hey, Sir Lancelot,” Braxton greeted the chihuahua with a dignified voice. It kind of fit with his tuxedo colors, though the tongue lolling out of his mouth at all times didn’t fit the bill. He was a goofy little guy and was one of my first I couldn’t say no to.

Though, he had his own yard he used that had mesh over the top so the hawks didn’t get him. I had a feeling the wheels would protect him, but it wasn’t a risk worth taking.

“You hungry, buddy?” I asked as I pulled down his bowl and filled it up, giving Pretzel a treat since he already had his dinner in the barn. He wasn’t going to get away with a second one when he was already a few pounds over the vet recommendation.

Though the vet in question was the worst at sneaking them treats.

“I put chili in the crockpot. Let me whip up some cornbread and we can eat,” I said. Braxton grabbed out the shredded cheese he liked, bowls, and spoons while I started mixing.

“Sounds perfect,” Braxton offered. “Any progress on that grant?”

Every time we met it turned into conversations about funding. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate the beta’s help, it was just that it felt like I was disappointing him directly every time we weren’t chosen.

Grants for sanctuaries like mine were in short supply, and that meant there wasn’t enough funds to get around to all of us.

We got one five years ago, and nothing since. I didn’t have high hopes and he shouldn’t, either. Not that he’d accept that answer.

“I sent in what they asked for,” I said simply as I poured the cornbread mix into my buttered cast iron and popped it into the oven.

He started to say something but my phone ringing cut through the silence. I gave him a shrug as I plucked it out of my pocket and glanced down, surprised to see my contact from The Omega Network calling me. I’d put in a request with her for a vet tech since they had connections with not just the omegas, but most of the packs around here. It was a last ditch effort after my job listings went largely unanswered.

After the last disastrous interview I wasn’t exactly hopeful. My animals were like family to me and when that bratty beta showed up and curled her lips up and refused straight out to do the basic cleaning and care for the animals, the interview was over.

I paid as well as I could manage, dipping into our meager funds and adding a few extra family days to the calendar to make up for it. I wasn’t going to waste precious money on someone who was going to be on her phone more than actually caring for the animals.

Maybe I was picky. The last helper I had was an alpha with a heart of gold. He loved this place like I did until he found his omega and moved away.

It turns out, finding good caretakers wasn’t an easy task.

“Hello?” I answered, voice guarded.

“Hey, Holt! It’s Hailey. I actually just had an omega move to town with a great resume and plenty of experience. Now, she’s been through a lot so she’s going to be quiet and probably a little timid, but I think that farm of yours might be really good for her.”

“I’m not a therapist,” I said, even more worried than I was before I answered. The last thing we needed was a girl too afraid of her shadow to connect with the animals. Something about her tone had me more than a little worried.

“She doesn’t need you to be one,” Hailey said, voice sharp. “Don’t underestimate her because of her past or I’ll send this perfectly qualified vet tech on to someone else.”

Damn, she didn’t hold back. I let out a sigh but figured, what was the worst that could happen? I’d been shouldering this all alone and if she had experience, it was better than nothing.

“Fine. Do I need to know anything more about her? What to avoid? I’m not trying to trigger her,” I said with a sigh.

Hailey didn’t miss a beat before answering. “Don’t bark and don’t be a dick. Pretty straightforward. I’m emailing everything over to you now so you can just print up what you need for your end. If you’re ready to have her start, even on a trial basis, then let me know and I’ll contact her for you.”

“Trial it is,” I said, knowing damn well this was likely the best opportunity I’d get. I opened my email as it dinged, scanning through the impressive resume as Hailey fought for words. “She looks like a good fit.”

God, I hoped I didn’t regret this.