Page 16 of Knot my First Rodeo

“Now what?” she asks, brushing her hands on her leggings.

“Goats.”

She exhales. “Fantastic.”

I lead the way this time, pushing open the barn door. The smell hits like it always does: hay, animals, and Billy the goat.

She pauses.

“Still wanna help?” I ask.

She rolls her shoulders. “I didn’t come out here to quit.”

Fair enough.

I grab a bucket and hand it to her. Her fingers brush mine for half a second, and I catch it before I can stop myself. They’re softer than I expected for someone this stubborn.

“Fill that,” I say, nodding toward the feed bin. “Then dump it in the trough.”

She moves to do it, a little slower this time, paying attention. The goats crowd her quickly, pushing in, bleating like they haven’t been fed in days.

“Back up,” she says, trying to nudge one away with her knee.

It doesn’t move. She tries again, firmer this time. “I said back up.”

I watch, waiting.

One of them bumps her harder and she stumbles a step, catching herself before she falls. Her jaw tightens.

“You gonna let them win?” I ask.

“They’re not winning,” she snaps, planting her feet.

She adjusts her grip on the bucket and uses her body more this time, shifting into them instead of away. It’s awkward, but it works enough to get space. She dumps the feed in, breathing a little heavier now.

“That’s better,” I say.

“I had it,” she mutters.

“You almost had it.”

She shoots me a look, but there’s less bite in it than before.

“This one bite?” she asks, eyeing the pig’s fence.

“Only if you give it a reason.”

“That’s not comforting.”

I glance back at her. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

She doesn’t complain when the mud gets worse, or back off when things get a little messy.

I respect that.

By the time we finish, she’s got dirt on her hands, a smear of something on her sleeve, and a strand of hair falling loose from that messy bun.

She looks… different out here.