“Yeah. He’s acting kind of weird and walking funny.”
“No, but then, I wouldn’t know whether he was acting normal or not,” she lied, swallowing past the lump in her throat. At least the rooster was still alive.
“I guess not. Maybe he ate some bad grain or something.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. She was off the hook.
But then she looked in the mirror. Blue short-shorts and a yellow and blue top. The cute little outfit was made for walks along the beach or lazing around poolside with a tall frosted drink, not for roughing it. This was all she had that was appropriate, though.
Oh, well.
She glanced toward the door, then unbuttoned the last two buttons of the top and tied the ends beneath her bra. That was better. Slap a piece of straw in her mouth and call her Elly May Clampett. She rolled her eyes and left the bedroom.
She aimed toward the kitchen in desperate need of a strong cup of coffee and a bagel. Not that she remembered seeing any bagels in the boxes she’d carried inside.
“I don’t suppose you made coffee while I was getting dressed?” she asked as she joined him, but she didn’t smell the tantalizing aroma of a freshly brewed pot. She glanced toward the black beast of a stove and wondered how far it was to the closest Starbucks.
Cal didn’t say anything. Just stared. When he continued staring without saying a word, she cocked an eyebrow. “Do I meet with your approval?”
“That’s not exactly the kind of clothes made for roughing it.”
But that was only his opinion. Her interpretation had a whole other meaning. “I’ll need to go into town today and buy some…” Her gaze trailed over him. “Something a little more…appropriate.” She kept her voice soft and sultry as she blatantly flirted with him. “Will this be okay for now?”
He dragged his gaze up to meet hers. “You’ll do.” His words were gruff. Without waiting for her, he pushed the door open and went outside.
Oh, yeah, he was definitely interested. She grinned. Score one for the city team. She’d have her article by the end of the day.
Just as quickly, her smile faded. There was still the cow to deal with and, apparently, she’d have to wait on coffee. He could’ve brought her a cup. A cinnamon mocha latte. She really missed the city, where there was a coffeehouse on practically every corner.
She went out the back door and trudged after Cal. “You know, I don’t really like milk. It wouldn’t bother me at all not to have any.” She hurried to keep up with his long strides.
“You’ll need the milk to make the butter.” He stepped inside the dark interior of the small building.
“Butter? I thought-oomph!” Nikki thudded against his back. “Why’d you stop?” she complained but hesitated before moving away. She liked the feel of his hard, sinewy muscles against her. And he smelled nice, like soap and spicy aftershave. A thrill of pleasure ran down her spine. Now this was more like it.
“Always let your eyes adjust before you walk into a dark building,” he informed her, his words interrupting her delicious thoughts.
“Why?”
“You never know what’s crawling around.”
A shiver ran over her. She had to ask.
“Well, next time tell me before you put the brakes on.”
Her gaze moved around the interior, her eyes becoming accustomed to the dimness. To her left, hoes and shovels leaned against the wall. On the opposite side, bales of hay were stacked. The musty, not quite unpleasant scent rose to tickle her nose. She peered around Cal. More light came from the back of the barn. Instead of a wall, it opened into a pen.
Bessie glanced up when they approached and meandered over to the fence. “I thought Bessie was black and white.”
“That was the other Bessie.”
“Of course, how stupid of me not to have guessed you have two cows with the same name,” she muttered.
Cal tipped the lid off a barrel and reached inside. “This is her feed. Give her two heaping scoops twice a day, but not until you’re ready to start milking.”
“I don’t know how to milk a cow.” And the other verse was she didn’t want to learn.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you threw in the towel. This is probably more than you ever expected.”
She glared at him, grabbed the scoop, and tossed the feed over the fence into the wooden feed box. Bessie went directly to her breakfast. “Now what do I do?”
With a very snarky grin, he handed her a stool and a bucket. “You milk the cow.”
Smart-ass. From his expression, she knew he was just waiting for her to run screaming from the barn. Well, she’d show him a thing or two. She jerked the stool and bucket away from him. Opening the gate, she tromped through to the other side.
When she stood next to the cow, her bluster disappeared. The animal was huge. Her back was almost shoulder high.
But her brown coat looked like the softest suede she’d ever seen. And the cow had big doe eyes with long black lashes. A big, brown Bambi. She was beautiful. She was…
Bessie’s huge, saliva-dripping tongue emerged and partially disappeared up the cow’s nose.
“Gross!” Ugh! Nikki almost gagged.
“What?”
She glanced at Cal, who seemed quite unaware that anything out of the ordinary had happened. “Nothing.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat.
Cal opened and closed the gate, joining her in the small enclosure. He calmly waited for her to start. She gritted her teeth and set the stool beside the animal.
How hard could it be? Obviously, quite a few people milked cows because there always seemed to be a plentiful supply in the stores. She’d never heard of a death associated with milking a cow. Not that there couldn’t be a first time.
Gingerly, she squatted on the stool and stared at the cow’s bag. Four appendages, like fat fingers, pointed downward. Now what should she do?
As if he’d read her mind, Cal took the bucket from her. He walked to the trough and dipped some water. “The weather is warm enough so the water isn’t too cool. Don’t ever wash a cow’s bag with cold water, though.”
“How will I know if it’s too cold?”
“Oh, she’ll tell you. If it’s cold to you, then it’ll probably be cold to her.” He handed her the bucket.
Nikki looked at it, then at the cow’s bag. “Uh, do you have a washcloth?”
Cal grinned. “You don’t need one. Just reach in the bucket, scoop some water up, splash it on her bag, and wipe with your hand.”
“Oh.” The instructions didn’t sound difficult. Then why did she hesitate? She could answer that easily enough. She didn’t want to touch the damned cow!
“At this rate Bessie will never get milked.” Cal squatted beside her, took the bucket, and began to wash the cow’s bag. “Bessie won’t hurt you. A jersey is usually pretty docile.” He quickly finished and tossed the unused water. “There, that wasn’t hard.” He turned to look at her.
Nikki forgot all about Bessie. His face was so close that his warm breath fanned her cheek. Shivers of excitement ran over her body.
He leaned closer. His lips brushed hers, like butterfly wings. Shock waves erupted inside her. He tasted like peppermint toothpaste and heat. Sweet and sexy. Spasms of pleasure stole over her as he deepened the kiss, his tongue caressing hers while his hand slipped around to the back of her neck and lightly massaged. Swirls of heat coiled inside her, then erupted, fire licking her in all the right places.
Cal pulled away all too soon.
She almost fell off the stool. Okay, take a deep breath, girl. She was the one in control.
Her flirting had worked. He’d fallen beneath her spell. It still took her a few seconds to regain her senses. He was a fantastic kisser.
