75. Sadie
SADIE
The calf wasn't the problem.
The calf had been the easy part.
The problem was Beast.
Specifically, Beast trying to prove he could do everything himself.
I stood beside the drainage ditch with my arms crossed while the giant former Army Ranger glared down into the muddy trench.
"It's not that deep," he muttered.
I looked at the dark water.
The slick mud.
The steep embankment.
Then I looked at him.
"Those are famous last words."
"It'll be fine."
I snorted.
Three teenage ranch hands stood nearby.
All three immediately took several steps backward.
Smart men.
Years of experience had taught them what happened when Beast and I started arguing.
The trapped calf let out a nervous moo from somewhere below.
Beast grabbed a rope.
"I'll be down and back up in five minutes."
"Sure."
His eyes narrowed.
"You don't believe me."
"I absolutely do."
"You are a terrible liar."
"I know."
The ranch hands started laughing.
Beast shot them a look.
The laughter died instantly.
He looked back at me.
I smiled sweetly.
That seemed to annoy him even more.
Good.
Maybe next time he'd stop treating me like I was twelve.
Without another word, he started down the embankment.
The first few steps went fine.
The next few steps went fine.
I hated that.
Because if he succeeded, I'd have to listen to him act smug for the rest of the week.
Then it happened.
His boot hit a patch of slick mud.
The universe paused.
Just long enough for everyone to realize what was about to happen.
Beast realized it too.
I saw it in his eyes.
That brief moment of horror.
Then his feet disappeared.
Completely.
One second he was standing.
The next?—
WHUMP!
The giant Ranger vanished into the ditch.
Mud exploded everywhere.
The splash reached the top of the bank.
One ranch hand dove behind a fence post.
Another lost his hat.
The calf bolted deeper into the ditch.
For one glorious second, there was complete silence.
Then I made the mistake of looking.
Beast slowly emerged from the mud.
Black slime dripped from his hair.
His shirt.
His face.
His shoulders.
Honestly, he looked like a swamp monster.
The ranch hands immediately turned away.
Shoulders shaking.
Trying not to laugh.
I lasted about two seconds.
Then I lost the battle.
A snort escaped.
Beast looked up.
The snort became a laugh.
The laugh became a full-blown cackle.
I doubled over.
"Oh no."
His eyes narrowed.
That made it worse.
"Oh no."
Mud dripped off his nose.
I laughed harder.
The ranch hands gave up and joined me.
One actually sat down in the grass.
Another walked away because he couldn't breathe.
Beast stood in the ditch looking like a six-foot-four mud monster while the entire ranch watched.
His expression grew darker by the second.
"You done?"
"No."
I laughed again.
"Not even close."
The calf mooed.
Beast glared at it too.
"Everybody's funny today."
That nearly killed me.
I wiped tears from my eyes.
"Your face."
"Careful."
"No, seriously."
I pointed.
"Your entire face."
His jaw tightened.
I laughed harder.
The ranch hands were openly crying now.
One finally managed to gasp out?—
"You look like a chocolate-covered grizzly bear."
That did it.
Even Beast's mouth twitched.
Just barely.
But I saw it.
A tiny crack in the armor.
Then he sighed.
The fight left his shoulders.
And for the first time all morning, he laughed.
Low.
Rough.
Real.
The sound hit me right in the chest.
Because Beast didn't laugh very often.
Most people in Eagle River had probably never heard it.
I had.
A few times.
And every single time it felt special.
Dangerous.
Like seeing something nobody else got to see.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The laughter faded.
The ranch hands wandered off.
The calf settled.
The wind shifted through the pasture.
And suddenly it was just us.
Again.
Beast looked up from the ditch.
I looked down.
Mud covered him from head to toe.
His eyes never left mine.
Neither did mine.
The moment stretched.
Longer than it should have.
Long enough to become something else.
Something neither of us wanted to name.
Then Beast broke it.
"Hand me the rope."
I blinked.
"What?"
"The calf."
His voice was calm again.
Safe again.
Walls back in place.
"Right."
Disappointment flickered through me.
Just for a second.
I tossed him the rope.
He caught it one-handed.
And just like that, the moment was gone.
Or maybe not.
Because as he turned away, I caught the faintest smile.
And for the first time today, I realized something important.
Beast McCoy might be trying very hard to stay away from me.
But he wasn't trying nearly as hard as he used to.