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“I told you—”
“Right. Mind my own business.” He sauntered closer to her. “The thing is, I don’t do well with that. I like to know who I’m working with.”
“Well, we don’t always get what we want, do we?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been working here for going on eight years now. I would trust Zeke with my life. And you can bet that I would lay down mine for his. So, when I ask you what you’re doing here, I’m not making a request.”
She lifted her chin in defiance, although her trembling hands betrayed her. “Well, if you’re so buddy-buddy with him, then why don’t you go ask him?”
He reached out, and she gasped as she shrank back. His fingers touched her hair and tugged at something. Slowly, he lowered his hand to reveal the feather he’d plucked out of the mess that her hair had become. He stared at it, then lifted his gray eyes to meet hers.
“Zeke will tell me when he’s ready. I just figured I’d save us some time and ask you myself.”
Sarah scowled and folded her arms. This guy wasn’t going to back down. He’d probably figure everything out anyway. But that didn’t mean she had to make it easy on him. She stared at him, waiting for him to come to that same realization.
His gaze didn’t leave hers, not even for a second. Her focus wavered, and she shifted beneath his stare until she couldn’t handle it anymore. She threw her hands down at her sides and pushed past him. “I’ve got eggs to collect.”
Sarah thought about her assignments as she left the barn. Once the eggs were collected, they wanted her to learn how to milk their dairy cow. She shuddered. Just the thought of having to do that sort of chore made her queasy. She wasn’t a vegan, but maybe she should be.
Her steps slowed as she arrived at the chicken coop. The birds alllookedsomewhat tame. They clucked and bobbed their heads as they wandered through the fenced-in area. The miniature barn they laid their eggs in looked like a replica of the larger one she’d just left.
Fingers curling around the metal fencing, she searched with shrewd eyes. Where was the crazy chicken that had charged at her? She was the leader of the little pack of gremlins that paced within their cage. Sarah had been lucky to get out of there alive.
A flurry of feathers fluttered and cawed, bouncing against the chain-link fence. Sarah’s squawk mixed with the other sounds and she jumped backward, falling onto her backside. She muttered about the unfriendliness of chickens and clambered to her feet, not bothering to brush off the dirt that now covered her from head to toe.
“You okay, little lady?”
The voice came from behind her, causing her to jump once more. Sarah spun around and stared at the cowboy who’d been in the barn. “What do you want?”
He held a rope in his hands, coiling it slowly. His head was dipped so all she could see was the stubble of his strong jaw and his mouth set in a firm line. He tipped his head, giving her a quick view of his eyes before they were again hidden by his hat. “I don’t think those hens like you much, little lady.”
She bristled. “Don’t call me that.”
He wasn’t fazed at all. Or maybe he didn’t hear her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen those chickens take such a dislike to someone. What did you do to them?”
“What did I—” She huffed. “I didn’t do anything. They hate me for no reason.” She looked back into the coop. “There has to be an easier way. Whenever I go in there, they fly at me.”
“They can sense your fear.”
She stiffened. “I’mnotafraid.”
“Could have fooled me.” He shook his head as one side of his mouth quirked up. “Eventually, you’re going to have to figure out how to show them who’s boss.”
“Well, if it’s so easy, why don’t you go in there and get them?”
The cowboy’s jaw twitched, though the humor in his eyes remained. “What are you gonna give me for doin’ it?”
“Are you seriously bribing me?” She folded her arms tight across her chest. “Isn’t that against your code?”
He arched a brow. “Mycode? I’m sorry, little lady. You’re gonna to have to elaborate. What sort of code are you referring to?”
Ignoring the fact that he’d called her little lady again, she took a measured step toward him. “You know, like a code that all cowboys have. Like being honest and trustworthy. That sort of stuff.”
The cowboy laughed. He actually laughed loud enough that the hens behind him fluttered and clucked with more urgency. He shook his head. “I’m no boy scout, little lady. I’m a cowboy.”
“What’s the difference?”
He cocked his head, his eyes drilling into her as if he could see into her soul.
