4. Chapter 4
Graham
Holy shit.
What had I done? One minute I was minding my own business and taking in the vibe of the auction while I waited for the goats to come up for sale.
The next minute I was determined to bring home a cow.
No, not a cow, a bull. I didn’t have a need for a bull.
And I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t far too cute to eat.
Trying to buy him was the last thing I should’ve been doing. That didn’t stop me.
It was as if my arm had a mind of its own.
The first time, I told myself it was just making sure he didn’t go too cheap.
As if that made any sense. The second time, he was a good deal.
How could I not? But two became three became ten became I didn’t even know how many.
My hand kept flying up, flashing my auction card like I was a billionaire and money was no object.
The entire time, my eyes were locked on the Highland bull. It was as if he had a spell on me. I wasn’t paying attention to anything else. Not the price the bids were reaching. Not who I was bidding against. Heck. For all I knew I bid against myself.
What the hell was I going to do with a Highland bull?
I couldn’t eat him. That I already knew.
I didn’t think they ate poison ivy, which was the problem I’d intended to solve today.
Could he be a pet? Obviously he couldn’t come in my house, but would he like to go for walks and hang out with me as I did tasks around the farm?
Goodness gracious, what was wrong with me?
This was going to be a mess, and still, I couldn’t bring myself to accept the offer from a guy who “congratulated” me and then offered to buy him from me.
The bull was mine and in a possessive way that kind of freaked me out.
The man left by the time I realized I might’ve messed up by turning him down.
For a split second, I considered backing out. It didn’t last past that initial thought. The very thought of me going to the office staff and telling them I couldn’t take the bull twisted my stomach. No, that bull was mine. No one else could have him. No. One.
He just looked so sweet and cuddly. And something more than that. It was as if he was meant to be mine. Did that make sense? Of course not, but nothing that had happened since he came up for bid did.
This entire situation was so freaking weird.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d feel like this was attraction?
Not in a sexual way, but drawn to him in way that said I needed to know him better.
Like he was meant to be more than a random farm animal and more than a pet.
But that wasn’t possible. Except it was, and it was starting to freak me out.
I kept telling myself I just simply wanted to rescue the poor animal.
He looked healthy enough, and his fur was gorgeous despite needing a brushing.
I wanted to be the one who brushed him. Would he sit still or maybe he’d lean into the brushing?
He didn’t seem the type to get pissy about it, but what did I know.
My knowledge of bulls was formed by cartoons at my grandfather’s house growing up.
They were hardly what I call information-filled.
The way he went after the hay had me worried.
The bull was hungry. The animals that came before him had ignored the food and looked terrified.
I couldn’t blame them. Being paraded around this many people had to be stressful.
Was the poor creature starving? Had he been neglected?
If so, he needed some spoiling, and based on my behavior today, I wanted that position.
So far, he was one of the only animals that came through the ring as singleton.
I hadn’t paid much attention to any of the preview aside from the goats, but it seemed that in today’s sale he was unusual like that.
The more I thought, or more accurately, overthought about the situation, the more I guessed it was because he was a high-quality bull.
Only the auction house didn’t have any paperwork on him.
Maybe he was a stolen bull? My stomach knotted at the thought of that.
Did he get taken from his home and family?
No. They wouldn’t do that. Bulls got marked.
It wasn’t as if they could get away with it.
Still… there was no information on age or weight of if he was a proven bull, so I wasn’t so sure about that.
He looked healthy enough, his coat shiny.
But what did I know about Highland bulls?
They were cute and fluffy, and I pointed at them when I drove down the road without fail.
I’d always loved them. At one point I had a mug with one on it.
In hindsight, my need to bid was starting to make sense.
I may have never dreamed I’d own one, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to.
I forced myself to stay in my seat as they sold the rest of the cattle.
Not once did I have the itch to bid again.
Same was true as they moved on to the sheep.
If anything, I was sitting there a mixture of bored at what was being presented and filled with anticipation over meeting my new bull.
If it weren’t for needing the goats, I’d have already left to get my bull and bring him to his new home.
Despite the temptation, I wasn’t going to miss out on what I actually came here for, even though the amount in my pocketbook was significantly lower now. When the time came, I was able to purchase a small flock of ten Kiko goats. They were fine, cute even, and exactly what I had come for.
Winning them didn’t have the same adrenaline rush that winning my bull did. If anything, I was glad to get them so I could leave. I didn’t plan on getting any more, which meant I could leave after I finished my paperwork and went to where I could collect my animals.
Thankfully, my trailer had different sections, so I could put the herd in the front and the bull in the back, as long as he was well-behaved enough.
If he wasn’t, I’d have to hire someone to bring him to me.
There were plenty of people here offering that exact service, so it was doable.
But I wanted him with me, not some stranger.
If anything, I’d pay for the goats to be delivered despite the goats needing to be loaded before I knew how the bull would react.
Once I had the goats loaded up, I went to find my bull. He was in his pen, already tied up with a halter on. I looked around for someone who might have more information on him, but there was no one.
He was a pretty thing. His eyes were deep brown, and his lashes were long. I could only see one eye, his other was covered by thick hair. His fur looked almost silky, and I wanted to run my fingers through it. Which was crazy, because he was a farm animal, not a dog.
“Hey, buddy,” I said.
The bull let out a snort, and I was almost sure that he narrowed his eyes.
No, it was a trick of the light. I was losing it today. My friends warned me about being alone on the farm too much; maybe they were right. I needed to get out more.
“How about we get home?” I said. “I’ve got some hay.”
He seemed to perk up at that, so maybe he had been someone’s pet after all.
I untied the rope and gave him a gentle tug. He was more than happy to keep moving as I led him out of the pen and down the alleyway toward the trailer. Something caught his attention, and he began nibbling on my front pocket.
“Hey there,” I said. “What are you looking for?” I pulled out the pack of mints that I kept there. Every so often I liked to give my animals a special treat, and so I was in the habit of carrying the tin around with me.
“You want one of these?” I said, holding out my hand.
He gobbled it up, and I laughed when this tongue flicked over my palm.
“You’re going to do just fine,” I said, even though on the inside I was screaming.
What had I been thinking? I was not equipped to have a bull on my property.
Bulls got out and looked for lady friends.
I didn’t have any cows, and I really didn’t want to get one.
I was a glutton for punishment, and I would need to put in the work to keep this guy contained. Guess I was building a new pen.
“Come on, buddy.” He let out a loud moo at that. “Okay, okay, you don’t like buddy. How about cutie? May I can call you cutie?” He stopped for a moment and tilted his head as if pondering that idea. “Cutie it is. Let’s go.”