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“So,” she continued, trying not to dwell on things that couldn’t be changed, “they can go in, it all hooks up via sensors, detaches when they’re done, and they can wander off and let the next one through.”
He typed that into his notes, as if it were important. Nicole would have loved to get another peek at what he’d written down so far, at what Brendan had deemed noteworthy.
“Is he retired?” Brendan asked, looking around in case another cow came near.
“He passed,” she said simply.
“I’m sorry,” Brendan replied, not missing a beat and sounding solemn and genuine all in one.
“Thanks. Anyway…”
She took him on a tour of the shed, having him follow her as she checked through the herd, seeing if any of them had injured themselves overnight, if any of them were showing signs of sickness, that they were moving through the machinery at a steady pace, all of them getting their turn.
Brendan followed at her heels like an enthusiastic puppy, constantly tapping notes into his phone with a look of intent concentration chiseled onto his face. He just seemed toopolishedto be in a milking shed at seven in the morning, with his hair slicked back and his stubble still the fashionable sort, wearing that business shirt of all things.
“What are the broom bristles for?” he asked, sounding perplexed. He pointed at the thick plastic bristles that were stuck to a bunch of poles, and Nicole had to admit that it looked kind of weird if you didn’t know what it was for.
“Cows like to scratch themselves. It makes them happy. So, we put up these brushes everywhere for them.”
Brendan blinked and rubbed his hand against the tough brush. “So they’re like giant dogs, kind of.”
Just when she was starting to think he was getting the hang of this…“No,” she said. “Not really. They’re just… cows.”
“They seem pretty friendly though,” said Brendan, as another cow wandered past him, giving him a quick, curious sniff.
“Yeah, but they’re not pets; they’re livestock.”
“So I suppose you wouldn’t approve if you came out here and I was giving them all pats?”
“Oh my God,” she said, not even bothering to suppress her disbelief at him, and moving on. She ignored the chuckle she could hear behind her.
They were done there soon enough, every member of the herd finished milking for the morning.
“Now we herd them out to pasture,” said Nicole, happy that the sun was up and shining, warming the skin on her face. She was starting to get used to the constant clicking of Brendan typing out notes behind her. “They eat all day, then they come back here to get milked once more before bed.”
“And we use ATVs to herd them,” said Brendan with a sly grin. “Not horses.”
Nicole didn’t want to smile, but she couldn’t help the twitch at the corner of her mouth. His self-deprecation was his only saving grace.
“No,” she said dryly. “No horses.”
She led him over to the vehicles, pulling the keys out of her pocket.
“Not that I don’t trust you,” she said, climbing onto one.
“But youdon’ttrust me,” Brendan finished.
“Not with heavy machinery. Sorry.”
Brendan shrugged as if he didn’t trust himself with it either. “That’s fair.”
“You can ride shotgun with me for now until I teach you how to drive one properly.”
“No helmets?” he asked. “Not super keen on the idea of cracking my skull open on the ground.”
“We don’t have any helmets,” Nicole said. “But don’t worry; there’s a really easy way to avoid cracking your head open.”
“Wearing a helmet?”
