Page 17

Ava

M y boots crunch in the snow, and no matter how far I walk, the building panic doesn’t ease. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The bitter wind bites at my face, making my eyes water.

This is good. I can blame the tears on the wind and not actually admit that my life is spiraling and I can’t fix it.

All this work, all this time, and I am still struggling.

I stop walking to catch my breath and try to pull myself together.

If I was sure I could break down by myself, I would.

But the ranch hands take this road, and so do Jack and Mabel. I can’t let them see me break.

My start date at the hospital was pushed back. It seems my recruiter forgot to turn in my background check paperwork, and now I’m delayed until that gets done. They aren’t really sure when it will be done; it could be a week, or it could be a month. Fuck.

My bank account is dwindling by the second, and I have bills to pay: loans I took out for school, loans for my car, and credit cards that I would really like to start paying more than the minimum for.

What the hell am I going to do? I guess I could look for a part-time job in town, but I really don’t want any other commitments because I need this job at the hospital.

I need to make a difference. And for once, I need to be more than just surviving.

I’d like to know what it feels like to lay my head down and not do math on how I’m going to have everything paid for.

To lay my head down and know it’s taken care of .

Panic rises again, my gloved hands finding my knees as I hunch over and try to catch my breath.

The sound of tires plowing through the fresh snow makes me stand up straight. I blink up toward the cloud-covered sun, rapidly fluttering my lashes to bat the tears away.

“Ava, what are you doing out here?” Maverick yells out as he leans across his center console, taking in my full-blown panic attack glory. “Shit, Ava. Are you crying?” The sound of his truck door slamming shut echoes over the top of the snow.

It was that obvious, huh? Maybe I should have risked being suffocated in a snow drift.

Maverick’s steps turn into a run and I turn my head as he gets close. “Ava, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. I am fine. You can get back to work.” The crack in my voice gives too much away.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what is wrong.

” His fingers find my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

“What can I do?” Concern is etched across his features.

His eyes dart around my face, looking for an answer I don’t want to give.

Telling my super rich, oopsie husband I am flat broke is not a conversation I want to have.

Telling him more than I already have divulged is terrifying.

If no one else knows, I can pretend all these pieces of me don’t exist. The scared, the struggling and the lonely.

I have great friends, but I don’t have a family.

They all have places to go on the holidays and I just follow them, with nowhere to land that is really my own.

“Really, Mav, I am fine. I just need a minute.” I try my best to put on my brave face, hoping he’ll drop it.

“You’re not fine. Please, tell me. Even if I can’t help, talk to me.” The desperation in his voice to make this better makes my resolve melt .

“My start date got pushed back.” I turn my head out of his grasp and look out to the pine trees. They really are beautiful when they’re covered in powder.

“Okay, and can you tell me why that’s making you risk hypothermia?” He’s trying to understand but obviously is waiting for more explanation. One that is mortifying for me.

“Because I’m out of fucking money, Mav. I know that is a hard thing for you to understand, but my cushion is gone. I have no job, and I’m stuck out here in butt fuck Wyoming.” I throw my hands up, anger boiling up and out of me. Not at him, but at life, for never giving me a damn break.

His eyebrows shoot up in amusement; of course he would think this is funny. I don’t know if he’s ever had to struggle with money, counting every penny until you finally get paid again. “Butt fuck, Wyoming, huh?”

“Okay, I’m done with this conversation.” The warm feeling I previously felt toward him is now as frozen as my toes. Screw this, I will just figure it out myself.

“Wait, I’m sorry. Let me help.” I try to pull my wrist out of his grasp, but he is holding on to it like his life depends on it.

My tone turns to steel. I may need help, but I’ll never take a handout from a man. Or from anyone, for that matter. “I’ve told you before, I don’t want your money.”

“It won’t be mine. We can get you a job at the ranch. There are never enough hands for everything that needs done. You can do all the smaller projects the boys and I don’t have time for.”

I debate on telling him no. “This isn’t a handout. I want to earn it. I don’t care if it’s hard. ”

“I know you know how to work. Jack and Mabel will be thrilled to have an extra set of hands.” I search his face, trying to see if this is just a clever ploy to get me to accept my help, but I feel like he is telling the truth.

“When can I start?” I need money like yesterday.

“You can start right now if you want? I am on my way to the barn. We have a couple stalls that need cleaning and a calf that needs feeding.”

“You should have led with feeding baby cows,” I mutter, the last bit of my anger now evaporated, and I suddenly feel a little too tired.

“I’ll remember that next time.” He walks to the truck door and opens it, waiting for me to get in. “I’ll show you how everything works, and then I have to help the boys drop some hay for the cows in the pasture.”

“Okay. Thank you,” I whisper. God, I don't want to do this, but declining help is clearly not getting me anywhere. Technically, I am still earning it myself.

Mav drives around the big house and follows the road until we get to the giant barn. Its steel sides are covered with a pitched roof. It still looks like a barn, but half of it was smooshed with a metal shop.

“I’ll show you around the barn and the stables,” he says, one hand lazily draped across the wheel and the other arm propped on his center console.

Gawking at the sight in front of me, I say, “That’s the biggest barn I’ve ever seen.

” Obviously, I’ve seen it before, but from afar—never wanting to get too close to the house and feel like I’m encroaching on someone else’s space.

The only time I’ve been to the house it was was dark out, but now that I’m taking it all in I’m in awe .

“Well, there’s also a practice pen. A few kids from town like to ride, but their moms won’t let them compete. I like to practice there. And kids take horse riding lessons. Plus, the whole left side is the functional part, which is where you will be working.” I take note, trying to remember it all.

“Wow. People come all the way out here to ride?” This part surprises me the most. The whole town is very widespread. There is obviously a town center area, but once you get out of there, houses are separated by many miles. For such a little town, it stretches far.

“When you live in a small town, everything is a bit of a drive, so you’d be surprised what people are willing to do.

” He shrugs it off like it is nothing new.

I always thought most of Wyoming was the same.

We don’t really have huge cities, but I guess I never really understood true small-town life until I was here.

My little town lacks quite a few things this one has, like heart and people who adore it.

We park in front of the barn; the estate fence goes around the front, making it easy to tell where to go. Good to know for future reference.

“You can come in through the main door. We try not to open the overhead door much in winter,” he points to the opposite end of the barn, “keeps the inside a little warmer.”

He punches a number into the keypad on the door, and it unlocks. A huge dirt pen sits to the right, and another door goes to the left.

“Here is the pen. This is where we do rides. You’ll see over there,” he points to the far-right side, “is a chute. We use that for practice with real bulls. We have a few that live here. They aren’t as mean as the ones on the circuit, but they’re great to learn from and gentle enough for the kids.”

“Is this where you learned to ride?” My eyes take it all in, noting the high ceiling and the smell only livestock can bring .

He tucks his hands into his pockets as he looks around too. “Yup, this is the first place I ever rode a bull. The pen was half the size, but so was I.”

“That’s pretty neat. Do you like teaching kids to ride?”

“Yeah, I love it. It’s fun watching their love for rodeo start. We’re going through these doors; this part is for the cattle operation. We have some stalls for horses or calves that need bottle feeding. Or the occasional Couplet.”

I start walking around the pin area, following Mav’s footsteps as we head to the right. “That means mom and baby, right?”

“Yup.” He turns the handle, and immediately, the look changes. Now this looks like a barn. There are six wooden stalls. Four of them are occupied by horses, one has a calf, and the other is empty.

I stop dead in my tracks, my eyes locked on the cute little fluff ball. Why are things always so much cuter when they’re babies? “Oh my god. Is that a baby cow?”

“A calf? Yes. That will be part of your new job. She needs to be fed twice a day until she can take solids. Her mom rejected her, so she’s a bottle calf.” He takes a step further into the space, and I follow.

My hands reach out for one of the horses to sniff before I gently pat its nose. “I would have asked you to hire me on months ago if I knew I could pet the cows and horses.”

“She’s still not a pet, but I'm glad I know how to soften you up,” he says, and I look over to him, unable to hide my smile.

“I’m plenty soft.” My brow furrows as I take a step away from the horse and close the distance between us.

“Cuddly as a cactus.” He winks at me, and I slap him with the new pair of work gloves I had shoved into my pocket he had given me in the truck. “I’m kidding. You're obviously super warm and soft. ”

My hand falls to my hip. Clearly, he has forgotten a few crucial details about me. “Hey, who took care of you the other night?”

“I actually don’t know her. I thought you had been possessed or something?” If the smirk on his face wasn’t so freaking cute, I would smack it straight off him.

“I hate you." The words lack sincerity and we both know it. I don’t hate him, not even close. In fact, if the warm fuzzy feeling in my chest is any indication, it’s quite the opposite. “Now show me what to do.”

He turns to face me. “First things first. Are you scared of livestock?”

“Uh, no?” Should I be?” I mean, I was just petting the horse, so I feel like he should have been able to deduce that on his own.

“These are all well-trained, so no. But some people are terrified.”

Maybe if it was one of the big, angry bulls I hear about him riding. But the ones in here are strangely comforting. “Then no.”

“Okay. Well, you only need to deep clean out one stall a day. Jack likes to keep a super-clean stall. He loves these horses more than he loves his own children. Aspen and Weston will attest to it.”

“I believe you.” Looking around at their decked-out space, I can see that. I’ve lived in apartments less nice and way colder.

“You’ll need to clean the messes out every day but only replace the bedding once a week.

You’ll use this pitchfork,” he points to the one leaning against the far wall with other assorted things, “to grab the soiled straw and throw it into that bin over there. We will come around and dump the bin at the end of the day, so don’t worry about that. ”

Cleaning up horseshit isn’t what I had in mind, but money is money and I’m not in the position to turn down anything. “Okay, I can do that.”

“For the calf, you’ll use warm water and a milk substitute.

I’d recommend doing this first. She’ll need to feed first thing in the morning, we usually do it around five or six, and then again, around five in the afternoon.

As she gets bigger, you will need more milk.

For now, she gets half a bottle twice a day. ”

He walks to the cupboard, pulls out two clean bottles, and shows them to me.

“We’ll take these home with us tonight. She’s already been fed this morning, but you’ll come back tonight.

It’s best to fill it with hot water at home, so by the time you get here and get the powder substitute put in, it should be perfectly warm for her.

The instructions are on the bag. I am assuming you can read? ”

My eyes can’t help but roll. “Yes, asshole, I can read.”

“Great, I just didn’t want to assume. Do you have any questions?” He props up against one of the stalls and crosses his arms.

“Where do I put the horses when cleaning out their stalls?”

“You can put two together while you clean out the stalls.” He looks over to where the baby calf naps in the corner. “You’ll probably have to clean the calves stall out more often, she shits a lot.”

I close my eyes and let out a sigh. “Lovely. Anything else?”

“Nope.” He pops the P and takes a step away from the stall.

“Well, alright. Thanks again. I really appreciate it.” There is no sarcasm here because without this little bit of cash flow, I will be in a real situation I don’t know how to handle.

“No problem. You’re actually helping us out. The winter is hard on the pastures and fences, so this will give us more hands to fix those. Mabel serves breakfast at the house around six thirty, so if you finish feeding the calf in time, you can meet us all for breakfast.”

That actually sounds great. Boredom has become my new personality trait, and having something to look forward to will be nice.

“Alright, I am going to head out. I should be back in about three hours to pick you up. ”

I nod my head and look around, making sure I am ready. Mav studies me for a minute and then heads out the door.

“Alrighty, guys, I am new so please be nice.” The horses let out a huff, and I take that as acceptance.