Page 34 of Milked for the Holidays

“I am giving you permission to speak.”

“What about the bathroom? I’m unable to clean with these hooves on.” Her voice is soft, with a slight European accent, but I’m not acquainted enough with Earth to know exactly where she’s from.

“Excellent question. Every morning, before milking, you will be brought to a room to do your business. The plugs will be removed so you can evacuate your bowels. After you’re cleaned off and done with morning or nightly inspections, it will be reinserted so you can go about your day. At other times, if you have need, approach any Ranch Hand, and they will assist you. During the evening, hooves are removed, so you can take care of any business you might have. However, tails are to be promptly put back in. If you are found without your tail, the punishment will be severe.”

Again, their cheeks turn pink. I get it, though, but it’s a humiliation they will have to endure. It keeps them in their place. Docile cows are less likely to hurt themselves trying to fight us.

Looking out over the herd, I wait for any more questions, but no other hooves rise in the air. “One last thing before I go. I want to reiterate that you are allowed to speak to each other as long as it’s not in earshot of a Rancher or an Icorian. The moment you see anyone from this planet, you are to remain silent and moo unless permitted to speak.”

They lower their heads, walking after the Ranch Hands as they tug them away, leading them to the barn. Jessica watches me, her eyes glassy and face pink. Even though I can’t touch her yet, I’m sure she’s soaking wet from what I’ve been saying.

She might deny it, but my little cow seems to like the humiliating things I do and say to her. Unfortunately, she sways a bit as I get closer. Sexual pleasure can wait. Right now, I need to get her up to the house so Nagán can tell us his solution.

Besides, I have a gift for her, and I can’t wait to see her reaction. A soft smile crosses my face as I look down at my cow. Though she struggles a little, she still plods forward, her stubbornness the only thing keeping her upright.

CHAPTER 15

JESSICA

My limbs quiver as I walk after my Rancher. Right now, the only thing I can think about is settling down in the soft hay in the back of the vehicle. Next to me, Fiona rubs her shoulder against mine, drawing my attention.

She gives me a soft smile and tilts her head, as if to ask if I’m okay. Pressing my lips into a thin line, I do my best to be reassuring, even though it feels as if I’m going to collapse at any moment. I just have to make it a few more steps and I’ll be at the ramp.

Stepping to the side, I let her go up first. That way, I’m not holding her up as I face the incline. She trots up and settles down into the pile of hay and waits for me. My stomach churns as I eye the ramp.

I don’t know if I can do this. One shaky arm in front of the other, I kneel at the base of the incline. As much as I don’t want to admit I need help, I can’t seem to move anymore.

Tears prick my eyes as I turn to look over my shoulder, noting Vrokjan’s expression. He seems just as concerned as I am. There’s that, at least. Despite the humiliation, I let out a soft moo.

It’s a plaintive wail, a soul-piercing sound that seems to hit him right in the heart. Without saying a word, he bends down and scoops me into his arms. Despite wanting to stay callous toward him and not allow him any leeway into my heart, I can’t help but snuggle deep into the strong shelter of his arms. He feels so warm, so safe.

He hugs me close for a moment, shoring me up. Maybe all I needed was some contact, something to remind me I’m not completely alone in this hellish, alien land. I push against him, to give him a signal to let me down, but even that is weak and ineffectual.

With a soft chuckle, he hoists me into his arms and turns toward the vehicle. But instead of taking me into the back, he goes along the side and climbs into the front. Antroli stays behind to get Fiona situated and close up the rear.

We sit there for several moments, neither of us talking. It should be a comfortable silence, especially with his arms wrapped so snuggly around me. But it’s not. I wish there was something to shatter this oppressive blanket of silence threatening to smother me.

Groaning, I burrow my head in his chest. I just feel so sick. The problem is, I have nothing to compare this to. There’s nothing that’s happened to me back on Earth that prepares me for how I feel.

The closest might be the flu, but only the weak part. And even then, I was able to move on my own. I was never in such a state where someone had to carry me.

Fear seizes my insides as I remember my mother in her last months. Weak, unable to really eat, unable to do much of anything. Once she was in hospice care, she couldn’t do anything for herself.

Am I dying? I try to grab onto rational things, such as the fact that I crawled on my own after getting a shot from Nagán. Even with the potent medicines my mom was on, she never got better. She either stayed the same or got worse gradually.

Since moving home, I’ve been avoiding any sort of self-reflection. I didn’t want to look too closely into the face of death. It seems as if I have no choice. Cancer. Death with a capital C.

Do they even have means of taking care of humans with such an illness? Frantically, I sit up, the top of my head nearly smacking into his chin. He jerks back just in time, but there’s an air of unease around him.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Am I squeezing too hard?” The concern in his voice seems genuine, and my heart can’t help but flutter in response.

“It’s not too hard,” I murmur, half wishing he’d squeeze even tighter.

Perhaps if he held me hard enough, it would smoosh all my jagged and broken edges together and make me feel whole. I stare up into his eyes, noting the flicker of worry as he looks me over, but I don’t understand it.

I’m nothing to him but a portable milk bar, a thing to be bartered and sold at his whim. He’s kind, but that doesn’t change my place in his world. Would he even miss me if I were gone?

“Jessica,” he grumbles, his deep voice washing over me.