9. Katie
9
KATIE
This morning, Dallas left me to check the sheep and cattle solo.
I can tell it was a big step for him, trusting me with something on my second week on the job.
I tried really hard not to roll my eyes when he quizzed me for several long minutes about my capability to do a job I was doing solo when I was seventeen. As if he hasn’t seen me capably handling this job every day since we met.
No lamb rescues today but a Hereford cow needed a little assistance with calving. I could tell she wasn’t impressed by my presence, but she let me help her without too much stress, for which I’m grateful.
I’m unsaddling Scout when Dallas finds me again.
“All good out there?” he asks, leaning against the stable wall.
“Yep,” I say, then give him a run down of the calving. Have to admit, I’m looking forward to his reaction. I’m feeling more than a little smug about it .
“You did what?” he asks, voice rising on the final word.
Scout tosses her head. “Woah, chill out,” I say to Dallas, while running a soothing hand down Scout’s face. This was not the reaction I was expecting and I want to snap at him, but that’ll only upset the horse more. “I helped a heifer with her calving. Mother and baby are fine. I’ll keep an eye on them in the next few days, but there shouldn’t be any issues.”
“Uh, no I’m not going to chill out. What were you thinking?”
“That a cow needed help and I was there to give it to her?”
“And what if she hadn’t appreciated your help?” He swipes the cap off his head and roughly runs his hand through his hair. I absolutely do not notice how hot he looks when he does that, or remember my own fingers tangled in the thick, sandy-coloured strands. Him touching his hair is always the biggest reminder of what we did and I have to fight back the memories again. Now is not the time to be thinking about his hair. “What if you’d been hurt? You’d still be lying out there in that paddock.”
“But I’m not. I’m fine. Not a scratch on me.”
Dallas takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “You cannot do shit like this. Trying to calve a cow, alone.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” I do snap this time. I step away from Scout, closer to Dallas. His height pisses me off because I’d really like to be glaring down at him in this moment.
“It only takes one tiny moment for that to be completely different, princess. One tiny moment and you could have been killed.”
My blood goes hot in an instant when he calls me princess. I was wrong about the hair. The word princess is the biggest trigger for me remembering that night. I roll my eyes, hoping the heat I’m feeling inside isn’t evident on my face. “I’m fine .”
“This time, maybe,” he says, not backing down as I stalk closer. “Next time, maybe not. You can’t do reckless shit like that. What if you got hurt?” His voice drops with the final five words and there’s something in his eyes that pulls me up short. Something that looks a lot like fear.
“I wasn’t reckless,” I say, my voice lowering. “I do know when I need help. This wasn’t one of those times. If I had been hurt— if I was—you knew where I was. You would have come to find me.”
Dallas nods, somewhat reluctantly. “Yeah,” he says, his voice raspy and god, if it isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. One simple word. It could be that he’s agreeing with me, but I think mostly it’s him in general. I startle when fingertips brush against my neck, just below my ear. It sends a shiver, and something else, straight through me. “I couldn’t stand it,” he says in that same low, raspy voice.
My breath catches.
This is not how things are supposed to go.
I was supposed to share one simple night with this hot as hell guy, then never see him again, or, worst case scenario, see him in passing on the odd occasion I go into town.
I was not supposed to see him every day. I was not supposed to stand a hands-width away from him in the stables with his fingers trailing down my throat. “You?” I whisper, because I’m fucked already so why not make this worse than it already is?
He blinks, clears his throat, steps away and drops his hand. “ Me … Olivia, Violet, Sadie.” His voice returns to its normal level and reality hits like a brick to the face.
I spin around to face Scout. “I’ll be careful,” I say, focusing on detangling the mare’s mane.
“Good,” Dallas says. “Thank you. Are you free now?” he asks, as though he doesn’t know he sets my work for me.
“Um, yes. You haven’t given me anything else to do yet.”
“Right, yeah, okay. I’m going into town to grab some stuff. I need you to come with me.”
“You don’t have anything that needs doing here?” I ask, turning back to him. I really don’t want to go into town. Like, I really, really don’t. I may love Wildflower Ridge, but that does not mean I love the town it’s a part of.
I left Kauri Creek the last time for a reason. A reason that I can guarantee hasn’t magically evaporated in the intervening years.
“We need to pick up the farm ute, so I really need you to come with me,” Dallas says, running a hand through his hair, then sliding the cap back into place. Covering that hair is probably for the best.
Working with Dallas is fine. It’s nothing. It’s whatever. But every so often, there’s a flash of that first night that almost makes me dizzy with longing.
My first day working here, when I came down the stairs and found him in the front doorway staring up at me was one of those moments. Wearing dark jeans, a dark shirt and smelling like he did at the bar, I almost dragged him straight up the stairs for a repeat. I’m sure it was the smell. It had lingered in my house for days, even after I’d washed my sheets .
Then, there was two minutes ago, right here.
I sigh. “Fine. I’ll be five more minutes with Scout. I’ll meet you at the house?”
“You know, I’m not asking you to pull out your own teeth or anything. It’s the easiest job ever. I figured you’d appreciate a little break from all the physical stuff. It must be a bit of an adjustment for you.”
And the arrogant bastard comes back out and reminds me why I set my very clear rules around sleeping with him. Because cocky cowboys can’t be trusted.
“It’s fine, cowboy. Give me five minutes to finish here.”
He nods and strides away without another word, leaving me to finish grooming my horse, muttering under my breath.
Dallas pulls into a parking space outside the farm supply store.
“This isn’t the mechanic,” I say.
“It’s not, no,” he replies.
“Or the tyre place. Where exactly are we picking the ute up from?”
He snickers and it makes me want to punch him. I’m still irritated by what he said back in the stable, and more than a little thrown by what happened during the heated conversation.
But right now, mostly irritated that he implied I can’t handle the work. That I’m just a prissy city girl. He’s wrong, but he’s also right in that I really could do with a break from some of the physical work. My ass and legs are aching from spending time in the saddle again and my hands are already blistering from manual labour. I know they’ll harden up soon enough, but for now, it’s not much fun, and sitting in a vehicle for a drive to town is a nice break. Apart from the town part, obviously.
“It’s at the mechanic’s,” he says, exasperated. “But we need some stuff here too. We’ll only be five minutes, then we’re grabbing lunch.”
“Whatever,” I grumble like a petulant teenager, but climb out of his ute when he gestures for me to go with him.
Dallas quickly falls into conversation with the guy at the counter, ordering feed and minerals for the animals and probably some fence posts or something equally as exciting. I wander the aisles and quickly find myself in the horse supplies section. The smell of fresh leather bridles centres me and I run my fingers over the stitching in a stunning saddle. It’s far too nice to be sold in this hell-hole town.
“Holy shit,” a voice says and I freeze. I know that voice. It’s the same one that called out to Dallas in the pub. The one that turned me reckless. “Look who came crawling back to town.”
I turn slowly, hoping that I’m wrong, hoping that this isn’t the person I think it is. The person I know it is.
“Max Sheridan,” I say. “A fucking delight, as usual.”
“Come back to fuck everything up again?” he asks, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring down at me. God, those eyes. They’re way too familiar. The memories assault me.
I spin on my heel and stride for the front counter, where Dallas is still engaged in conversation with the store person. Yep, fenceposts.
“Time to go,” I say .
“Hang on, I’m not done yet.”
“Don’t care,” I say. “I’m out.” I’m about to head for the door when Dallas reaches out and grabs hold of my sleeve.
“Hold up,” he says, giving me a puzzled look.
“Oh, I see,” Max’s voice follows me. “Of course. I should have known. You’ve come crawling back to your bestie. I noticed you weren’t here when she needed you, but that’s not surprising, is it?” Max appears beside us. He’s got his typical smug smirk on his face. “You probably don’t know this yet,” he says to Dallas, “but you’ve got to watch out for this one. If you’re not careful she’ll screw you up and fuck you over all in one go. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”
“Fuck off, Max,” I say, a snarl in my voice. I turn to Dallas who’s standing there, dumbstruck, his gaze bouncing between me and Max. “I’ll walk down and get the ute. See you back at the Ridge.”
Then I turn and stride from the building, definitely preferring to walk to the other side of town than be near Max Sheridan for one second longer.