Chapter 6
Kayla
I double-check my GPS one more time before pulling off the highway and onto the gravel road.
My poor Malibu shakes along the road, large trees towering over me and blocking off any direct sunlight.
I hug the steering wheel to my chest, staring up at the trees that remind me of something you would find in the Redwoods—I mean, I’ve never been, but I imagine these are roughly the same size.
My car lurches as it hits another divot in the road, if you can even call it that, and I start to worry if my car will even make it to the farm.
I’ve never seen a real, operating farm before, but I didn’t think they would actually be so far off the beaten path.
I stare out the window, jaw literally dropped, as I make my way to what I assume will be Colter’s house, but quite possibly might be my early demise.
I’m so distracted, I completely miss the giant animal that chooses that moment to cross in front of my car.
My tires skid on the gravel as I stomp on the brakes, a not-so-polite word coming out of my mouth.
My heart races, my hair in my face, as I make eye contact with what I can only assume is a cow on steroids.
I’ve seen cows before, I drive past them all the time, but I don’t think they’re normally this big.
I look around the trees that surround me, all of which are shut behind a Pinterest-worthy fence. I assume this cow is supposed to be on the other side of that fence, too, and it hulk-smashed its way out, but what do I know?
Still eyeing the beast, I reach blindly for my phone, tucked somewhere in my tote. My hands grapple with it, and I use speech mode to dial Colter’s number, refusing to look away from the cow. I fear that if I do, it’ll ram my car.
“Who is this?” The gruff voice sounds unimpressed, and realistically, I shouldn’t have expected anything else from the grumpy cowboy.
“Colter? This is Kayla Carson, your son’s teacher.”
“I know who you are, Kayla,” he sighs, and I swear I can see him pinching his nose in frustration. “What’s going on?”
“Uh—” I nibble my lower lip. “I think one of your cows is loose.”
“You think?” He pulls the phone away, barking something incoherent to someone. At least I know he’s grumpy with everyone.
“Well, she’s glaring at my car and blocking the road right now. I don’t know if that’s normal or not.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know? Like a mile off the highway?”
“Stay there.” He hangs up on me before I can tell him I wouldn’t be able to move even if I tried. I huff out a breath, leaning back in my driver’s seat and brushing my hair back so that I look presentable instead of frazzled.
“How’s it going?” I nod to the cow, who has decided I must be an interesting view. I swear to God, hand on my heart, that this fucking cow nods back to me. “I think that might be the nicest welcome I’ve gotten since moving here.” I lean out of my open window, enjoying the spring breeze.
The cow chews on something in its mouth, staring into my soul with an eerie intensity.
Beady black eyes take me in, assessing me—maybe determining whether or not I’m worthy of stepping onto her land.
Her ears twitch as pounding sounds in the background, but neither one of us turns away from the other.
I’m starting to feel a little companionship with the cow. Or maybe I’ve just crossed into new levels of loneliness.
A whistle pulls my attention from the stare-off the two of us are having, and I’m met with my second most authentic experience with a cattle farm.
Colter and another, less important, man sit atop two horses, looking over the scene before them.
My poor little Malibu sputters, the air conditioning fighting to cool the car when my window is eagerly gulping in the warm air from outside.
“Fucksake,” Colter sighs, eyeing up my new friend with disdain. My hand goes to the door handle, ready to get out of my car, but the simple movement has both Colter and the cow turning to look at me. “Don’t.” Colter snaps. “Stay in your car.”
“Oh.” Hesitantly, I pull my hand from the handle. “Okay?” The cow huffs out, a burst of steam escaping its nostrils, and I can’t help but compare her to Colter. My lips press together tightly, and I try my damndest to stifle the giggle that builds in me.
“I thought you said a cow was loose,” he lifts his baseball cap from his head, running a hand through his messy hair. His horse shuffles in place.
“Uh, yeah,” I gesture to the animal in front of my car. Am I hallucinating all of this?
The stranger beside Colter coughs, a poor attempt to cover his snicker.
“Fucking hell,” Colter mumbles under his breath, shaking his head. “Kayla. That there is no cow.”
“Looks like a cow. Sounds like a cow.” This time, the strange cowboy doesn’t even try to contain his laughter.
“I like you,” he wags a gloved hand at me.
“Thank you.”
“Jake,” Colter warns.
“What?” The two cowboys stare at each other, a private conversation happening right before my eyes.
“Kayla, this here is Brutus. Brutus is our oldest resident on the farm. He is a bull,” Colter explains it to me like I’m a kid, speaking slowly and, if I might add, condescendingly. I study the bull in question, tilting my head to get a better look at him through my windshield.
“But he doesn’t have horns.”
“So?”
“All bulls have horns,” I tell him. Colter sighs again, and I wonder if he’s a smoker. He seems to have a lung problem or something.
“Where did you hear that?” He asks.
“I don’t know. I think it’s just like common knowledge.”
He nods, hands resting on the part of the saddle that protrudes out of the front. The horn, I think it’s called—maybe the flute. “And you’re teaching second graders?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Kayla, bulls don’t always have horns.”
“Are you sure?”
The other cowboy, Jake, rubs a hand over his face, covering his smile.
“Am I sure that Brutus is a bull?”
“Yeah?”
“Jesus Christ.” Well, I’ll take that as a yes. “Jake, go get help and then get one of the heifers. Put her in the pen in the eastern quarter. We’re gonna have to bait him.”
“A please would be nice,” Jake sniffs. I think I’m starting to like Jake. I’ll even forgive him for laughing at me earlier.
"Jake,” Colter’s teeth grind, his jaw ticking.
“Fine.” With a wink in my direction, he and his horse take off in the direction they came from. I watch as they make their way down the path before they disappear out of sight.
“He's your brother?” I ask, turning my attention back to Colter, who eyes the bull—not the cow—with distrust.
“How’d you know?”
“I have a brother. They like to be pests.” The chuff that comes out of Colter is almost a laugh. “You know, I think Brutus would head back to his pen if you asked nicely.”
“Thirty-three years on this farm, but she thinks she can do it better,” he grumbles under his breath, most likely assuming I can’t hear him.
I’m an elementary school teacher, I hear everything.
“Fine.” He speaks up. “Brutus, bud, would you please head back to your home?” Colter clicks his tongue a few times, waving his arm in a ‘get going’ motion. His horse dances beneath him.
Brutus looks up, steam coming from his nostrils. He turns to glare at Colter, looking nastier and less cute by the second. Colter’s horse stiffens, the two animals having a glare off.
“Brutus,” I try, speaking softly like speaking to a kid about to throw a tantrum.
“I’m trying to get to Ben. Could you please head home, so that we can too?
” The bull turns, head slithering in my direction in a smoother fashion than I would have anticipated from an animal of his size.
His eyes study me, not glaring as he did at Colter, but assessing. “Please?”
Another chuff, and then the bull turns away, walking slowly back in the direction he came. “Ha!” I perk up in my seat triumphantly. “I did it!” Colter watches his bull, the shock on his face clear as day.
It’s funny to see such a stoic man be so caught off guard.
“How did you do that?” He asks, swinging his gaze back to me.
“I don’t know, maybe he just likes me?” I offer, smiling smugly. “He and I bonded while you were taking your time to get here.”
“You bonded?”
“Sure. Brutus is a great listener.” I gesture after the bull, who listened to my request. Exhibit A. Colter narrows his eyes on me, not fully buying it. But I mean, I asked the bull to leave, and he left. What more is there to it?
He takes the hat off his head again, messing up his hair even more as he runs his hand through it aggressively. “Let’s just get you back to the house.” The hat gets slipped on backwards, tufts of brown hair sneaking out the back. “Come on, you can follow me and Saturn.”
I’m assuming Saturn is the horse.
“Ms. Carson! You’re here!” I don’t have much time to study the house in front of me before a small body runs down the front steps of the porch and launches itself at me before I can even brace myself.
Air escapes my lungs as Ben makes contact, hugging me firmly.
My heart widens a little for the little boy before me.
“Hi Ben.” My hand rubs his back as he holds the hug. Colter shuffles beside me, watching my interaction with his son, and once again I feel like I’m under inspection. “How are you doing, Kiddo?”
“I’m good.” He smiles up at me, John Deere hat cinched tight on his head. “I got to ride my horse with Uncle Jake, and we went and saw Petunia’s babies.”
“Well, that sounds like so much fun. I’m jealous.” Ben steps back, his little cowboy boots kicking at a pebble in the dirt.
“We can go after dinner, right, Dad?”
“Ben,” Colter looks at me and then looks back to his son. “Ms. Carson is here to help you with your math. She’s not staying for dinner.”
A home-cooked meal? Not made on a hot plate on top of a folding table? Yeah, that would be too good to be true.
“Really?” Ben’s face drops, effectively making me feel guilty for a decision I didn’t even make. “You can’t stay, Ms. Carson?”