“Are you always this curious?” He squinted at me. “Cattle are more of a what than a who.” His feet pivoted toward the barn for a third time.
There I was, making a nuisance of myself again. First, he had to basically hold my hand with something as simple as a trail ride that didn’t go any faster than a walk. Then, I’d inserted myself when he checked on the calf and probably exasperated him with my nosey questions about his family’s ranch. And now, I’d done it again. Literally chased after him, jabbering like a magpie and getting in his way when he had work to do.
I took a step back. “I’m sorry. I know we’re just guests. I didn’t mean to get in the way.”
He stilled. His shoulders rose and fell with a long inhale, exhale. This time when he looked at me, his eyes rested in the expanse of my own.
Framed by long lashes, his eyes were dark, soulful orbs that flickered with hesitancy. The controlled assertiveness he’d demonstrated with the animals lay hidden beneath a layer of reservation.
He cast his gaze to the ground, curtaining my window into his soul. He cleared his throat. “Want to learn how to worm a cow?”
Images of squiggly worms squirming over the backs of cows caused me to shudder.
“You don’t have to. Like I said, Nate’s in charge of your group today.”
His invitation had cost him something. Not sure how I knew that, but I did. Which was why I told my stomach to stop rolling over like a log down a hill and grinned up at Malachi. “I’d love to learn how to”—voice, do not quiver—“worm a cow.” But if I had to touch one of those slimy things, I couldn’t be held responsible for my stomach’s revolt.
I followed him to the line of new cows.
“We’ll spray the cow-calf pairs about the time the calves are ready to wean, but we can’t let these new cows in the clean pasture until they get wormed.”
Nothing about that sentence made sense. Henry would argue the cleanliness of the pasture with the evidence of the dung smeared on the bottom of his boot. Maybe city standards of clean were different from country standards.
Malachi sprayed a stripe of purple mist down the first cow’s back. I looked closer, but no wiggly worms in sight. Not even white larvae. “Where are the worms you’re giving them?”
The hose stilled over the last cow’s back—the first indication that I’d somehow made a big mistake about what worming a cow meant. The twitching of Malachi’s cheek, the second. He was too much of a gentleman to laugh at me outright. Which made me want to poke him so he’d let go of the guffaw he was holding back on my account.
I held my hands up in awhat do I know?type of gesture. “Guess I just proved how much of a city girl I really am, huh?”
A dozen different responses seemed to flicker across his face, but in the end, he said nothing at all, opting instead to lean over and set the purple container on the ground.
Searing warmth didn’t shoot its way from my chest to climb into my cheeks. Neither did I want to duck my chin as my foolish words fell around my head. If my coworkers had been within earshot, I would’ve been mortified. Not that any of us were exactly experienced enough to reopen a Wild West vaudeville show, but neither were we close friends who shielded one another against the heat of embarrassment.
I leaned my hip against one of the metal rails of the chute. “For future reference, you might want to refer to this whole process asdeworming. I’m assuming that’s what you really meant. Might clear up any misconceptions for your future guests.”
He turned his head and let the brim of his hat hide his face. Probably to conceal the grin he could no longer contain. “I’ll do that.”
What would his laugh sound like? Would it be as restrained as the man himself? A controlled melody, almost quiet in volume?
A desire to untether Malachi from his carefully constructed boundaries slithered through my middle. Just a moment. A glimpse past the reserve to the man his close friends and family must see.
His head tilted back toward me, his dark eyes gleaming. “Did you really think I meant to put fish bait on my livestock?”
I let my grin uncurl and held up my palms in ahey, can you blame me?gesture. “People do crazy things. I mean, if letting fish eat the dead skin off your feet is a thing, then maybe bovine have an equally outlandish beauty regimen.”
Cast. Hook. I reeled in a half smile, his mouth pulling upward on one side.
“Only city folk are capable of irrational behavior like that.”
I rested my elbow on the rusty metal rail only to have the tender flesh singe at the sun-heated steel…or whatever it was made of. I rubbed the offended spot and narrowed one eye at Malachi. “I believe I watched a video of two guys on a farm setting up a slip and slide with a length of black plastic and a tow line attached to a running horse. Something about skiing without a lake or a boat. Or skis for that matter. Don’t tell me you think that was smart?”
He slipped his hands into his front pockets. “I call that ingenuity and good country fun.”
“You ever set anything like that up here?” I couldn’t help but ask.
He winked. “Darlin’, you couldn’t even begin to imagine the fun we’ve had here at the Double B.”
A gulping, windsucking sound came from the parallel pasture, deep and throaty.
