Catch Me A Cowboy (12 page)

‘I always pictured big sheds housing a billion chickens.'

They placed one side of the cage back on the grass. Wil dusted his hands and shook his head. ‘We've shifted away from that in recent years. It's not good for the chickens or the land. These tractor cages mean the chickens are still safe from foxes by remaining in a caged environment, but always have fresh grass under feet. We move them along before they can reduce the field to soil and their waste acts as a fertiliser at the same time.'

Emily pressed her hands to her hips and nodded. ‘Two birds with one stone.'

He laughed. ‘That's the plan.'

‘So this is what you meant when you said your farming practices were different from prior generations?'

‘Exactly. This is just one example.'

He led Becky and Daniella to the other cages and they helped him move them along. Then they did the same with a dozen others. The last job was to take the feed and spread it around for the chickens. All the girls helped him do that.

Emily giggled as the chickens clucked louder and pecked at the seed with their beaks. ‘Do they lay eggs?'

Wil shook his head. ‘Not this bunch. The layers are on Dad's property.'

‘So these are for …' She couldn't finish.

‘Yes, they're for eating. You know that chicken breast you had yesterday at lunch? That was one of our own.'

Emily nodded, but soon her brow furrowed. She sighed as she ran a hand through her long hair. ‘I just realised how far removed I am. I buy my chicken on black trays wrapped in Gladwrap. No blood. No feathers. No delightful clucking.' She smiled when she said that, but there was a sadness in her eyes. ‘Seeing the chickens alive, and the work that goes into growing them gives me a new respect for the final product. One of these little darlings died for me.'

‘That's the process of life, Em.'

She pressed her hands to her hips and clicked her tongue. ‘I went on a date to a restaurant with a guy. Dwayne.' She lowered her eyes and shook her head. ‘He rudely demanded sustainable, organic produce, but you know what? I bet he has no idea where his food comes from. It's a big show. A fad.' Her cheeks pinked as she rubbed a hand along the back of her neck. ‘I'm so ignorant about all this. It feels wrong to be, like I'm doing these chickens a disservice by not valuing them.'

Wil extended an arm around her shoulders. She wasn't the only one to come to that conclusion after spending time up close with the animals on this farm. With seventy per cent of the population living in the cities of the world, it was understandable that most people had no idea. ‘We can remedy that with a crash course in animal raising.'

Becky came up then and snuck herself in under Wil's other arm. ‘I'm keen on that crash course too.'

Emily pulled away abruptly and walked off to the car. Wil sighed. Emily may be here, but he could tell she was at serious odds with being so.

Chapter 16

‘A pig sty,' said Emily as she stood on the lower rung of the fence and looked into the muddy home to eight fat, pink pigs. ‘You can't expect me to go in there?'

‘They need feeding.'

She shook her head as the pigs rushed towards the fence line snorting and snuffling. They were enormous and filthy, trotters and bellies streaked with mud.

‘They stink,' she said. ‘A lot.'

Wil threw his head back and laughed. ‘You're not going to discriminate based on scent now, are you?'

A smile crept onto her lips. ‘I guess not.'

They had come from a paddock filled with sheep. She opted out when given the choice to assist herding them into an adjoining paddock because their stamping hooves and high-pitched bleating scared her. She wouldn't have the first clue about what to do with sheep. Plus, she was still disgruntled after the two-women-under-one-man's-arms incident back at the chicken trailers.

Yes, she was on a show that glorified men with a plethora of love options, and the premise was to have women in direct opposition to other women, but she wasn't going to be a part of that side of the show.

Emily shook her head and sighed. That sounded ridiculous, even to herself, because she already was a part of it. And because she truly did like the man at the centre of this show, she would continue to be a part of it.

Without realising, she had been caught, hook, line and sinker.

An unexpected lightness worked through her muscles and mind. Somehow, by accepting the situation as it was, admitting to her own weaknesses, and acknowledging the self-made weight she had been pushing against, she didn't feel so … trapped.

Back at the sheep paddocks, there were squeals and frightened faces as Becky and Daniella had tried to direct the frenetic sheep with Wil and his cattle dog, Daisy, who he'd picked up on the way through. Wil was amazing, directing Daisy around the herd with whistles and deep, short calls until, with a few nips at the heels of the sheep, he had gracefully pushed the flock into the next paddock. Because Emily spent the entire time giggling at Becky and Daniella and feeling suitably grateful she wasn't getting involved, she promised she would participate in the next activity to give them a break.

Looking down at these pigs and the thick muddy premises, she thought the sheep may have been the better option. She glanced back at Becky and Daniella who were smiling smugly. She couldn't blame them—she'd be doing the same if the roles were reversed.

‘You knew, didn't you?' she asked Wil. ‘When you gave me the choice to sit out with the sheep.'

He laughed again, his big dimples carving dents in his cheeks.

‘That's just nasty,' she said.

‘So I probably shouldn't use this moment to tell you that you can't let these pigs near your hands. They've strong snouts and can bite your fingers clean off.'

Emily jumped off the fence and took two steps back. ‘No. You shouldn't use this moment to tell me that because I'm not going in there now. Are you serious? They could bite my finger off?'

‘Fingers. Multiple. And yes, I'm deadly serious.'

Emily's mouth fell open. She shook her head. ‘No bloody way. Nah-ah. Not happening, Wil. You're on your own.'

Again his head rolled back and he roared with laughter, obviously finding his tormenting highly entertaining. She wasn't amused. He eventually looked back at her, still grinning, and said, ‘There's a fence. They won't be able to come near us.'

Emily sighed. ‘Thank God for that.' She placed a hand on her chest, felt the thumping underneath. ‘My heart is thundering here.'

He pressed his lips together but was still smiling, his dimples on full display. Despite his cheeky taunts, he had Emily panting. He stepped closer, so the other girls were out of earshot. ‘I wouldn't purposefully put you in danger.'

‘I guess I don't know you well enough yet to understand this mischievous side.'

He reached for her hand, held it in his. Her breath caught at the sensation pulsing through her. It wasn't like the other times he held her hand to lead her somewhere, there was an air of intimacy to the way he entwined his fingers with hers. ‘That's something we'll have to rectify,' he whispered. Whispering was the sexiest thing ever when it was coming from Wil's lips. Her body warmed and tingled.

She peered up into his blue eyes, then down to his lips. They were long and full, perfect for kissing. A gentle current swirled between them like a magnet, pulling her to him, and he to her. But she resisted; they had the eyes of Becky and Daniella, as well as the cameras, focused on them.

‘Yes,' she managed to say though her voice was breathy.

His big chest expanded on a deep inhale. Emily wanted to press both her palms against him and feel the muscle she knew existed underneath that t-shirt. The delicious warmth in her limbs spread to her breasts, and down to her belly where it pulled and continued lower, unravelling and stirring her long-dormant O.

Seemingly snapping out of his daydream, Wil straightened and took a step back. He managed a tight smile though his eyelids were still heavy hooded. ‘We better get to it.'

Emily nodded and released her hand from his.

Wil collected a bucket filled with feed from a shed beside the sty. He mixed in some kitchen scraps he had in a bucket on the back of the ute then jumped over the fence, bucket in hand. The pigs came snorting and sniffing towards him.

‘Come on, piggies,' he said fondly as he led them across to one side of the pen. Emily watched open-mouthed at the relaxed ease with which Wil commanded the animals. When all the pigs were cornered on the opposite side of the pen, Wil pulled the internal gate along, shutting it behind him, locking the pigs in.

He peered at Emily. ‘Come on then.'

She climbed up the horizontal palings and sat on top of the fence until she manoeuvred both legs over the side. Wil was there with his hands on her waist and lifted her down. Emily bit back a smile. She was a tall girl and she didn't have a petite frame, she actually had meat on her bones, and it was a testament to Will's size and strength to be able to hold her as though she weighed nothing.

‘Thank you,' she said.

Wil held out the bucket for her. ‘If you could pour this into the feed bins, I'll make sure their water troughs are clean and full.'

Emily held the handle of the bucket and squelched through the mud to the troughs. Each step was laboured because half a gumboot sunk into the mud and had to be yanked free before she could take the next step. She was grateful now that she didn't wear her cute cowboy boots, they would have been ruined. Wil was right about there being a time and place for
nice
on this farm.

Tipping the bucket, Emily poured all the feed along the length of the big metal bins, while Wil filled up the water trough from a tap connected to a nearby water tank.

‘Anything else needed?' she called to him over the din from the pigs at the gate. Their snorting and clanging were incessant. They wanted in.

He shook his head. ‘That's it.'

Emily smiled and headed back to the fence, but her foot became glued to the ground. Momentum worked against her, wanted her to keep moving forwards. She resisted against it, threw her arms out to cling to something. The bucket dropped to the mud with a thud. She screamed as she tipped forwards onto her hands and knees. Splashes of wet, stinky mud hit her face and streaked down the front of her shirt.

Hands, knees and feet were buried in the slush. She groaned as she pushed her palms further into the mud, seeking hard ground for leverage, and got to her feet. Carefully, she tried to take a step, but her boot remained suctioned and she tipped over again.

‘Bloody hell!' Her cheeks were burning.

‘Hang on,' came Wil's voice from behind, followed by squelches as he worked through the mud to get to her.

‘It stinks,' Emily whined. Becky and Daniella were giggling, but she didn't look at them. They'd be ecstatic now with their sheep-yard bargain.

Wil stood in front of her, holding out his hands. She lifted her arms up to him. He was biting back a grin and when he saw how caked her hands were, a laugh burst through.

‘Don't laugh,' she said though she was on the verge of smiling herself.

He gripped her wrists and pulled her up. She yanked at her boot, and finally dislodged it from the mud, but, on her next step, she lost her balance again and fell into Wil, muddy palms pressing to his chest.
Well, I did want to touch him there.
Wil gripped her waist with steady hands, but as he stepped forwards, to hold her more closely, his foot remained rooted in the mud and they both fell over onto their backsides.

Emily squealed while Wil burst into laughter. He chuckled harder when he eyed the mud splashed over Emily's cheek. A smirk broke through, despite her best efforts not to encourage Wil, but his laugh was contagious. She burst into giggles until her eyes watered and her chest hurt. Damn, his laugh would be so sexy if she wasn't finding the circumstances hilariously mortifying.

‘You made me fall again,' she said between giggles.

‘Me? You're the one who knocked me over. Now I'm going to stink.'

‘
Going
to stink? Believe me, you already do.'

When the laughter wound down, Wil managed to stand. He held his hands out for Emily. She eyed his gesture with distrust, knowing where it got her last time—flat on her arse in the mud. But she had no other choice—she wasn't capable of standing on her own either, obviously.

She gripped his hands and he helped her up. Holding tight to Wil, they both managed to heave their boots out of the mud and, one painstaking step at a time, made it to the fence. After climbing over and landing on the solid ground, Emily sighed with relief.

Wil was watching her with that cheeky blue gaze. ‘The rain last night must have saturated the ground. I'm sorry …' he broke off, laughing again.

Emily pressed her filthy hands to her hips. ‘Next time, I'm herding those sheep.'

Behind the nearby water tank was a tap they could use to wash up. The water was freezing, but it was better than stinky, sticky mud. Emily yanked her gumboots off and washed away all the gunk.

Wil ran his hand under the slow stream of water then rubbed his finger along her jaw. Despite the chill of the water, hot tingles fanned across her flesh. ‘You've got a bit of mud there.'

‘Thank you,' she said.

Holding his hands under the flow from the tap, he allowed water to pool in his palms, then splashed it on her cheek. ‘And a bit more there,' he said with a chuckle.

She gasped as the shock of cold struck her. Emily narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring his teasing grin, and quickly retaliated, splashing him in the face. ‘You've got a bit of mud there,' she said, already dissolving into laughter.

Wil cupped his hands under the tap again, but she lurched away, squealing, and ran from him, only to hit a spot of slippery grass and fell onto her backside with a thud.