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“I’m Will. I won’t bite ya, honey. Luke would have my ass. I’m in charge of the dairy side of the operation. We don’t have as many cows for that, but Luke likes fresh dairy. We sell the extra. I’m also in charge of mowin’.”
She tentatively shook his hand. “I’m Ronnie.”
“Ronnie?”
“Short for Veronica.”
He nodded. “Now that I’ll believe.”
She jumped again when she heard a squawk. She barely moved out of the way in time before a chicken could peck at her feet.
“Betsy’s hungry. You’ll be in charge of that. I’ll show ya where the feed is.”
“I-I thought it was just a cattle ranch.”
“These are Luke’s personal hens. Just enough for eggs for all of us, sometimes some meat, but usually we trade for that.” Several other chickens made their way out of what looked like a little red house nearby. They weren’t as brave and curious as Betsy. Will kept talking. “Hens are also good for the garden. We’re all natural and organic out here. It’s better for the soil, better for the animals, better for us.”
She wondered if he was also in charge of marketing.
He hefted the bag of feed out of a nearby shed. “They’re free range so they’ll eat bugs and grubs. This is just some extra we give ’em, so not too much. Ya hear?”
Sensing Will wasn’t about to touch Luke’spropertymade her a little more comfortable around the other man. “What did he tell you about me?”
“The boss? He said you was homeless and needed a place to stay and some work. And we needed some help for around the house. Luke had a housekeeper come in for awhile, but it was still tough.”
“Did he tell you he took me against my will? That he kidnapped me to bring me here and treat me like a slave, and god only knows what else he has planned?”
A dark smile lit Will’s face. “Oh, he said you was given to melodrama.”
“I’m serious. He tied me up and brought me here in his pickup truck. Against. My. Will.”
“So you wasn’t homeless?”
“Well, I... kind of... It’s not like I was living under a bridge with some vagrants.”
“But you woulda been if Luke hadn’t brought you here...”
“Are you not listening to me? He’llhurtme.”
“Nah he won’t.” Will took some of the feed and put it in Veronica’s hand. “Just scatter that out, and they’ll come runnin’.”
She scattered the feed and the chickens raced over on their skinny legs, clucking and pecking at the feed around her. She would have been amused, if not for the conversation she was in. She had to get through to this Will guy and get help.
“Hehitme last night.”
Will broke out into a full-bodied laugh. “Honey, spankin’ ain’t the same as hittin’. You don’t got a mark on ya.”
Veronica’s mouth dropped open. “Yes it is. You can’t just run around hitting a woman like that.”Unless it’s consensual, the dirtier part of her brain supplied.
“Whatever you say dumplin’. I need to get back to work, and you need to get your cute little ass back in the kitchen and make us some breakfast. We’re about to pass out from the hunger.” He pulled a sad face.
He was already out of shouting distance by the time she could come up with a retort. They really were going to just treat her like one of the animals.
On her way back to the kitchen, she passed the garden, and a small man-made pond with a family of frogs around it. She shrieked when one of them hopped over her foot. If Luke wasn’t going to provide her with shoes, the least he could do was not have chickens and frogs running amuck. In the city, not once had she been forced to encounter an amphibian or farm animal.
Veronica sighed when she reached the kitchen. She was getting pretty hungry, herself. And it was practically brunch by now. She almost felt sorry for the guys out there working on an empty stomach. Almost.
She rummaged through the cabinets and drawers for the things she needed and put some bacon in a pan and put the biscuits in the oven. While that was going, she set the table. There were six chairs, so she set six places, unsure if they would all be used. Then she put out some jam, butter, juice, and that milk would have to be last. It was in a large, clear, glass jar and had probably come straight out of a cow. It wasn’t white like the milk she was used to, but had a yellowish tinge and a line of something thick at the top that looked like cream. She wasn’t entirely sure it was good. She took a whiff. It didn’t smell off, but what did she know? Her milk came from a sealed plastic jug in the refrigerated section of the grocery store.
