Chapter Two #3
Seth nodded. “Okay, but you were on a horse, and your knees will not be too cooperative.”
She looked at the horse and back at him. “I suppose I don’t have a choice.”
“Sure, you do. You can walk.” He shrugged. “Up to you.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Enjoying what?”
“Watching me suffer.”
“Ms. Carroll, I don’t enjoy watching anyone suffer unless they deserve it, and though you are a pain in my ass, I would never want that for you.”
“Yeah, sure.” She walked to the horse, opened a saddlebag and retrieved her camera. “I’ll get some photos.”
Seth took the reins of her horse and his, then led them behind him as he followed her to the edge of the field where she raised her camera and shot photos.
“Where are the men?”
“On the ranch doing their chores. It’s too muddy to plant right now. We’ll have to let this dry up first.”
“You can’t plant in mud?”
“No, feed corn can’t be successfully planted in mud in Montana. It will lead to poor or failed crop production. Montana’s shorter growing season makes it critical to create the ideal conditions for a strong start, which is not possible in overly wet soil.”
“Then why did you bring me up here?”
“This way, you can get photos of the field before we till it.” He shrugged.
“Alright. I’m supposed to get before, during, and after photos anyway.”
“Sure. I’ll just wait here. Do what you want.”
Ryan nodded, then stepped forward and her foot sunk in the mud.
She tried to pull it free, but the suction was holding it tight.
After putting the strap of the camera around her neck, she reached down to hold the muck boot while she tried to pull her foot out of the mud.
Seth watched her struggling and just about the time he was going to help her, she lost her balance and fell on her ass in the mud but held her camera up, so it didn’t get buried.
He tried not to laugh, but it couldn’t be helped.
She finally freed the boot, but she couldn’t stand up without putting her hands in the mud. She glared at him.
“Could you help me instead of standing there laughing at me?”
Seth dropped the reins, walked to where she sat and put his hand out to her. She placed her hand in his and he tugged her from the mud, then helped her to the grass, where she sat down again and glared at him.
“I didn’t make you get stuck in the mud.”
“You knew it was muddy!”
“So did you. I hope you brought a change of clothes.”
“No one told me to.”
“Ma’am, you’re covered in mud and it’s no one’s fault but your own. As I told you, this is a working ranch and farm. You will get dirty. Always bring extra clothing.”
“Yeah, screw you, Mr. Harrison.” She got up and stood beside her horse.
Seth nodded to her to follow him, but when he looked back, she was still standing by the horse.
“We’re not walking in that, are we?” she snapped.
“Not today. It has to dry out first, but I wanted you to see where we’ll start.”
She muttered something under her breath that he didn’t catch.
“What?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all, Mr. Harrison.”
“It’s time to head back,” Seth said.
“What happens now?”
“Once we’re able to plant, next will be inspecting the growing crop.
As seedlings start emerging, one of the men will walk the fields to count the number of plants per acre, a stand count.
This helps them determine if the plant population is ideal or if there are problems with emergence that need correction. ”
“What’s a stand count?”
“A stand count is a practice to assess the number of emerging and surviving plants per unit of area, typically an acre. It involves measuring a specific length of row and counting the live plants within that area. It helps evaluate planter performance, seed viability, and identify issues like skips, doubles, or poor emergence caused by environmental factors.”
“And this is done on all the corn that’s planted?”
“Yes. There’s a lot more to it than just putting the seeds in the ground.”
“Tell me more,” she said.
Seth sighed. “We apply fertilizer. Corn is a heavy feeder that requires a lot of nutrients for growth. Many farmers apply an additional dose of nitrogen fertilizer at a later vegetative stage to support the rapid growth of the stalks and leaves. The weeds must be controlled. Early-stage corn gets a lot of competition from weeds for water and nutrients. Some people may apply herbicides shortly after planting and will manually or mechanically control weeds until the corn is tall enough to create a canopy, which shades out competing plants. Then we have to manage pests and diseases. Throughout the growing season, we monitor for pests like corn borers, earworms, and aphids, as well as fungal diseases. Based on the specific issue, we could use insecticide, fungicide, or other control methods. We also have to provide irrigation. Depending on rainfall, we might need to irrigate the cornfields, especially during critical growth periods like pollination. After the planting season is complete, any equipment used, including the planter and harvester, is thoroughly cleaned, inspected for damage, and stored for the next season.”
Ryan shook her head. “I had no idea so much went into it.”
“As I said, it’s not just putting the seeds into the ground.”
“Is corn all you grow for Mr. Beckett?”
“No. I also grow oats. There are other farms that grow sorghum, barley, and oats. Some grow more than one grain. My brother also grows for Ash. He grows barley, peas, and soybean.” He walked toward his horse. “It’s time we got back. Do you need help getting on the horse?”
“Probably, but I don’t need you touching my ass again.”
Seth tilted his head down to hide a grin, then looked at her. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll do my best not to do that, but you have got to learn how to get on the horse. You will be riding more than anything else.”
“I don’t like riding.”
“Tough. If you can’t ride, you can’t get here, if you can’t get here…” He shrugged.
She huffed out a breath, ruffling her bangs as she walked toward the horse, then she looked at him.
“I need help,” she said.
Seth walked toward her, stopped beside her, and stared at her. He watched her take a deep breath, blow it out, then put her foot in the stirrup, grabbed the saddle horn, and pushed off her right foot and landed in the saddle.
“Ha! I did it!” She laughed, making Seth shake his head.
“You will have to leave to get clean clothes. Always have some spare clothing in your vehicle. Another damn wasted day,” he muttered.
Then he walked to his horse, got into the saddle and motioned for her to follow him.
“How long have you been riding?”
“My father would put me on horses with him when I was in diapers.”
“Wow, that long ago, huh?”
Seth looked at her, but she wouldn’t look at him.
“Like you’re that far behind me.”
“I’m thirty-six. You’re, what, forty-three, forty-four?”
“Forty-two.” He knew she was baiting him, and he ignored it.
“Six years older than me. You, Mr. Harrison, are on the wrong side of forty. Do you only have one UTV?”
“No. We have three. Cull took you in one the first day since you weren’t wearing the correct footwear. Around here, we ride horses, unless the men are replacing or repairing fence.”
“Wonderful,” she muttered.
Seth said nothing as he guided them back toward the barn.
Slanted rays of light pierced the loft, winking off dust drifting in the air.
Inside, the sweet, earthy scent of hay mingled with the tang of leather.
He dismounted and stood nearby, watching her sit tall in the saddle, her boots resting against the stirrups.
The horse’s muscles rippled under its glossy coat with each subtle shift of weight.
Seth led his own mount forward until they were side by side.
“Need help?” he asked with a smirk.
She ran a hand along the saddle horn, her fingers brushing the worn leather. “No. I want to do this myself.”
He shrugged and folded his arms across his chest. “Okay. Have at it.”
She inhaled deeply, the long breath lifting her chest, then eased her weight forward. One leg swung over the saddle; the other came down lightly, her boot connecting with the cement floor in a soft thud. She straightened and shot him a triumphant look.
“I’m going to my cabin to change into clean clothes, Mr. Harrison, and I need a long soak.” Her voice was cool, unbothered.
Seth braced his hands on his hips, studying her. “This will be the only time I’ll let you go without cooling the horse.”
“Excuse me? Let me go? I don’t want to be around that horse at all. I will not… cool down a horse. Whatever the hell that even means.” She placed her hands on her hips in return, daring him to argue.
“You want to bet? You ride; you put the horse up. I will… let you off this once, since I know you’re probably sore and muddy.
Wait.” He turned and strode into the tack room.
Moments later he reemerged holding a small jar of salve, the pale cream glinting under the barn lights.
“Here, some salve for your muscles. Use it after your soak.”
She took the jar. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she walked out, her shirt tails flying out behind her. Seth watched her go, admiring the curve of her hips beneath faded jeans that were covered in mud. He’d never admit how much he enjoyed helping her mount.
He turned to lead the horse down the aisle and nearly collided with Cull, who’d just come out of the tack room. “Damn, Seth. You about knocked me down,” Cull said, peering around him. “What’re you looking at?”
“Nothing.” Seth blinked, lowering his gaze.
“Everything alright?” Cull asked.
“Yeah, I guess. Damn, women are crazy. I’d like to find one who doesn’t drive me insane.” Seth removed his hat, brushed a hand through his hair, then placed it back on his head.
Cull laughed. “You should ask for something more realistic, like a fire-breathing dragon.”
Seth chuckled, then checked the horse’s bridle. “That’s about as possible.”
Cull nodded. “I’m taking a few guys up to the north pasture to fix the fence.”
Seth frowned. “Are any horses or cattle up there?”
“Not yet, but I spotted elk tracks, big ones. He must’ve been running for his life. Didn’t see a herd, just that lone set of prints.”
“Maybe it got away,” Seth said. “Outran whatever was after it.”
“Could be. I’ll catch you later.”
“Alright. I’ll be in the arena. That horse is driving me crazy.”
Cull raised an eyebrow. “Is it a filly?”
Seth laughed softly. “Yep. Figures.”
“You’ll get her to listen.”
“I hope so. The owner wants a winner.”
Cull clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve no doubt you’ll get him one.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Hell, Seth, that’s all you ever do. Later.” Cull strode out, his bootheels clicking on the floor.
Left alone, Seth made his way to the arena.
He paused at the gate, sunlight, from the high windows, glinting off the metal rails.
He walked to the rail, planted one boot against the bottom bar, folded his arms on the top one, and watched the horse circle the ring.
The wind caught her mane, tossing ebony strands across her neck like a banner.
When she spotted him, she picked up the pace, trotting to him, until her muzzle pressed against his arm.
He reached over and rubbed the soft curve of her cheek.
“You and I are going to have a problem if you don’t start doing what I’m trying to teach you,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. The young filly nickered, bobbing her head as if she understood, and Seth, for the first time, felt a spark of hope.
Retrieving his phone from the pocket of his dusty jeans, Seth called one of the ranch hands.
“Ringo? Send some guys to the arena. I need more ground cover. “
“Yes, sir. Right away.”
Seth slid the phone back into his pocket, then leaned against the rail, watching the filly as she galloped in spirited circles, her muscles rippling beneath her gleaming coat, hooves pounding the earth with each graceful step.
“Don’t think you’re getting out of work today, girl. I just need to make the ground softer for those pretty legs of yours.”
He chuckled when the horse skidded to a halt in the middle of the arena, tossing her silky mane and shaking her head with an indignant snort.
“Yeah, if I didn’t know you were female before, I do now.
Stubborn as they come.” Seth slipped through the rails and slowly walked toward the horse.
The filly’s ears pricked forward as he approached, her liquid brown eyes watching him warily.
The ranch hands arrived with two dozers heaped with the reddish-brown mixture of clay and sand.
Seth led the horse out as the earthy scent rose as they spread and raked it across the arena floor in smooth, even strokes.
Seth ran his hand along the filly’s warm neck, feeling her pulse beneath his fingertips as he led her to the stall.
The perfect arena surface was an art form, soft enough to cushion the impact when those powerful hooves dug in, yet firm enough to give the horse grip when she pivoted on her haunches.
The clay would pack down to create a stable foundation, while still allowing just enough give to prevent jarring her delicate joints during those lightning-fast directional changes that cutting horses were known for.
He smiled as the filly nuzzled his shoulder, a far cry from the wild-eyed creature that had bolted from his touch just days ago. Her trust was still as fragile as morning frost but growing stronger with each passing day.