Chapter 6
Chapter six
Hayden
FACING FEARS AND FURRY FRIENDS
“Why’d you say that thing about my book?” I ask Wendy after Connor leaves.
“I was just playing. I know you’ll finish it when you have time.”
“I will. I mean, I was going to try to write while I was here, but I thought I’d be a good best friend and—“
“You’re the bestest best friend,” she interrupts, skipping over to me and wrapping her arms around my waist, cuddling me tight.
“Really, Hayden. I mean it. I don’t know why I said anything about your book.
You’ll have lots of time to write, I’m sure they’ll have so many activities to keep me occupied, or hey, if cutie cowboy Connor is on my team, I might be spending more than a little of my daylight hours with him, if you know what I mean. ”
“I have to do the activities, too, remember. This is a work trip.”
“Oh, right. Well, after the activities, I’m sure there’ll be time. This place is huge.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Come on. I want to snuggle with the cows some more.”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
She pulls back and looks up at me, her eyebrows raised and a knowing smirk on her lips.
“You’re going to fully unpack, aren’t you?”
Sometimes I hate that she knows me so well.
“If I leave it all in the case, everything will be creased.”
“Fine, but leave my stuff for me when I get back.”
“Sure,” I tell her, fully knowing that I have zero intention of doing that, but she knows that, too.
After our things are put away nicely in the drawers and hanging space built into the side wall beside the bed, I take a moment to jot down a few first impressions in my notepad. I use my laptop for writing my pieces but prefer to jot down my thoughts and notes the old-school way with paper and pen.
The room is clean, and feels bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside.
I sit on the end of the bed, surprised by how the mattress topper hugs around me.
It’s like sitting on a cloud. Lying back, I let my body sink into the soft embrace.
This is probably the most comfortable bed I’ve ever lain on, I think, staring up at the sky through the small skylight above the bed.
Now that’s nice. Out here, you must get a great view of the stars.
Might not be so great when the sun wakes me up at 5 a.m., though.
How would they even install blinds on a skylight?
They would have to be able to, though. Maybe there is a switch somewhere.
I reluctantly pull myself up and check the mini fridge for something to replace the vomit taste in my mouth.
It’s stocked well, just like Connor said it would be.
There are three glass bottles of creamer, farm-fresh labels on each, and three bottles of different colored juice.
I crack the lid on the red one and take a sip.
The cool strawberry, mint, and apple flavor coats my tongue.
It’s the nicest juice I’ve had in a long time.
There is no label on the bottle, though, only a sticker with a tree logo on it, and the ingredients scrawled in black marker up the side.
I have another sip, then put the bottle back in the fridge to drink later.
The bathroom is small. A toilet, a small sink, and a shower just big enough for one. I put my skin care bag in the top drawer and find new toothbrushes, toothpaste, razors, and goat’s milk soap bars tied with twine and cute handwritten labels already in there.
“Well, Wendy, you’re in luck.”
Wendy forgot to pack her toothbrush, so this is actually really handy.
I shove my notepad into my back pocket, pop my pencil behind my ear, and head out. I can hear Wendy’s laugh from here, and when I reach the cuddle cove, she’s leaning in close to Connor, resting her hand on his arm and laughing like he’s the funniest guy in the world. Then he spots me.
“Came for a cuddle after all?” Connor asks, leaving her to the baby goats jumping around her, to let me in.
“I thought I’d give it a go. Though I don’t really see the appeal.”
“You don’t like dogs, do you?”
“Not really.”
“What about really old cats?”
“I guess they’re okay,” I reply, not really seeing the comparison.
“Well then, you should come sit beside Miss Moo; she’s young but lazy.”
“She’s a little bigger than I was thinking for my first petting session,” I say as he opens the gate to her section, and I see the large cow with a cream-colored coat lying on a bed of hay.
There are sections of her fur slightly darker, sort of like a leopard’s spots, and she’s unlike any cow I’ve ever seen.
“She’s small compared to her mom.”
“Umm, I’m not sure,” I say hesitantly, stepping inside.
“Here, come sit,” he says, taking my hand and guiding me to the straw floor beside him.
Heat rushes from his grasp up my arm and settles in my chest. My heart racing, from the excitement of his touch, or the fear of the cow, I can’t tell, but I swallow the nervous lump in my throat and cross my legs beside him.
“She’s super gentle, see?” he continues as he brings my hand up, shifting his grip to rest my palm on the side of her neck, his large warm fingers lace overtop of mine, and guide my hand in gentle strokes down her side.
“She’s so soft,” I say, my voice a whisper.
“As soft as your cat?” he asks, and I make the mistake of looking at him. When I checked him out at the cafe, I thought he was an Adonis; now I’m sure this guy is some kind of god. His jaw is wide and chiseled, and his bright blue eyes glisten like ocean pools, or some swirling aqua galaxy.
“What?” I ask, completely forgetting what he even asked me.
“You said cats were okay, so I just assumed,” he says as his gaze moves to my mouth, and I fucking have no control over my body apparently, because my tongue comes out and swipes over my lips like they’re preparing for something that will never come.
“Oh, umm. No, my mom had a cat when I was little. I don’t have any pets.”
Miss Moo turns her head toward me, mooing, and I startle, ripping my hand free from under his and raising both arms in the air.
She then rests her head in my lap, and I’m held there under the weight of her huge head, looking from her to Connor and back, my heart racing as my brain struggles to decide what to do next.
“What is she doing? What do I do?” I ask, and Connor holds his waist, laughing.
“She likes you, you fool. She just wants a hug. You can put your hands down.”
“Oh…umm, okay,” I say slowly, bringing my arms down and resting my hands against her fur. I stroke slowly down the back of her neck with one hand, and she nuzzles into my waist.
“Well, you’re stuck for at least twenty minutes now,” Connor says, climbing to his feet.
“Really?”
“I mean, you could shove her away, but look at that pretty face, do you really want to make her move?”
I look down at the, dare I say it, beautiful cow in my lap, and my pulse begins to slow with each stroke of her fur, and the gentle hum of her breath vibrating through me. I’m actually pretty comfortable, and she’s warm, taking the chill out of the air I felt earlier.
“No. I’m good,” I reply, and he tips his cowboy hat my way. When he lifts his head, his blue eyes are sparkling again, and he’s smiling wide as he heads back into the barn section, probably checking on his patient.
Wen is busy trying to brush a mini Highland, their fur far longer than Miss Moo’s, but I bet it’s not as soft.
The more I stroke her fur, the calmer I feel.
Like she’s somehow draining the nervous energy from me.
They say that animals are good in therapy, for the way they can help lift a person’s mood, and right now, I’d believe it, because I haven’t felt this settled in years.
“Are you coming back out for a cuddle, too, Connor?” Wendy calls.
“Sorry, luv, I’ve got a bit of work to do here,” he calls back, and Wendy shrugs and climbs out of the enclosure instead of using the gate.
“I’m going to go for a walk. You want to come?” she asks.
“I’m good here,” I reply, and she heads off.
I close my eyes, petting Miss Moo and listening to the sounds of the ranch behind her soft snores.
“Well, you look relaxed,” Connor says, and I startle and find him bending down to sit.
“Yeah, umm, it’s actually really relaxing just being here with her. Is it like that with all of them?”
“The larger calmer cows, yes, but the smaller calves and mini Highlands and llamas and goats are all full of energy, better suited to playing with children than relaxing with adults.”
“Did you always want to do this?” I ask, and he shakes his head, running one hand down Miss Moo’s spine.
“It sort of came about by chance, really. We rescued a calf from a storm a while back, and people from the town and even further away started to pop in and see her, to you know, check she was okay, and she loved the attention, and the cuddles, and then a few months later, we were hosting our first cuddle session, and it just took off from there. What’s the pencil for?
Don’t writers all use computers now?” he asks, and I worry for the slightest second that he knows I am here to review the ranch, but then I remember Wen telling him about my book.
“Yeah, umm, they do. We do. But you never know when inspiration will hit, so keeping a pencil and notepad with me helps to jot down ideas and stuff, you know, so I don’t forget.”
I reach back and pull the notepad from my back pocket, my ass cheek grateful to be resting now on the soft straw-covered ground.
“Has Beaker Brothers been an inspiration to you yet?”
“In more ways than one,” I say, and it comes out way flirtier than I expect.
“Ohh, can I see?” he asks, and it’s not like he reached for the notebook or anything, but I clutch it to my chest like he might and shake my head.
“Ahh, no. I…”
“It’s cool. I’ll just wait for the book to come out and read it all then. Feel free to write in a strong, handsome cowboy into the story. He could be named Cooper or Carter.” He chuckles.
“Or Connor,” I reply, and his cheeks flood with pink, and he lowers his head, letting his hat shield him from view.
“Sure,” he says, still petting Miss Moo. “That would be cool, too.”
Sitting in the section set up for Miss Moo, it’s easy to forget that we’re actually on a ranch full of people.
The team that works it, plus the guests staying for the same Christmas Experience I am.
Is that all this is? Part of the experience.
Maybe one-on-one sessions with cutie cowboy Connor are all part of the package.
But then why would he tell Wendy he had too much work to do, and then come sit with me?
Fuck. I have to stop calling him that. He’s just Connor, the cowboy who runs the cuddle cove, just one aspect of the ranch I am here to review.
Because this is work. Not play. And as much as I would love to take him into the barn back there and blow him so good he screams my name, that is not what I came for.
I shake the image of his hard-toned body and try to focus.
“So, did you grow up here?”
“Ahh, no. Umm. I should get back to it,” he says, climbing and heading out of the cuddle zone before I can even blink. Miss Moo lifts her head for the first time since she set it down.
“Is it just me, Miss Moo, or was that weird?” I ask, but she just nudges my hand with her head like, how dare I stop petting her, and then rests her head in my lap again.
I can’t be sure, because he really could have stuff to do, but my gut is telling me he was dodging the question, or at least dodging whatever direction our conversation was now going in. Maybe this Cowboy Christmas might be an interesting story after all.