The Do-Over (The Miles High Club #4)(114)

“Do I get a good-night kiss?” I ask.

She sits up and kisses me. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I smile. She lies down and puts her back to me again.

Hmm . . . I guess it’s no country loving for me, then.

“Did I eat an organ tonight?” I ask.

Hayden giggles. “I was pulling your leg, you idiot.”

“Oh.” I smile. “Thank the lord.” I completely fell for it.

I turn the television and my side lamp off, and we lie in the darkness.

“Mooooo” sounds in the distance. “Mooo.”

I listen to the symphony of cows for over half an hour.

“Why is that cow doing that?” I ask. “Doesn’t it get a sore throat?”

“We have a few calves coming. I would say someone’s in labor.”

“Oh.” I frown. How odd. “How do you know when they’re pregnant?”

She giggles. “You’re an idiot.”

“But . . .”

“Oh my god, Christopher.” She laughs. “You’re hysterical.”

Hysterical?

I lie in the dark, pondering why I’m a hysterical idiot for not knowing the answer to a legitimate question.

But seriously . . . how do they fucking know?



I wake to the sound of a large engine roaring, and I frown.

What the hell is that?

Hayden isn’t in bed with me.

It’s dawn, early. The sun is just coming up, and I get up and walk to the window and narrow my eyes . . . huh?

Am I seeing this right?

Mist is rolling around on the ground, and Hayden is driving a huge-ass tractor across a paddock and into the distance. There’s a dog sitting on her lap.

What the fuck?

She drives a tractor? And . . . dogs ride on tractors?

Fucking hell, what next?

I go downstairs and make myself a cup of coffee and take a shower. The sun is fully up now, and Hayden still isn’t back.

I open the front door, and another huge dog is lying across the front of the doorway.

“You’re a log of a dog,” I mutter as I step over it. “What’s wrong with you, too fat to climb on the tractor?” I walk out into the paddock and look around; the sun is shining, and the birds are chirping. Even I have to admit it is pretty beautiful out here. I walk in the direction that Hayden drove to. I wonder where she is.



Fifteen minutes later I come over the top of the hill to see the tractor stopped and Hayden and a bit of a fuss going on.

What are they doing up there?

I narrow my eyes to try to focus. I think that’s Harvey too . . . hmm, I can’t turn around now. They’ve seen me already.

Oh well. If he hates me, he hates me.

I walk closer and closer, and I have no idea what’s going on up here.

A cow is lying on its side, leg up in the air, and all the cows in the paddock are crying out as they watch.

This is so strange . . . I keep walking, and as I get closer, I see Hayden is down on her knee beside the cow.

What’s she doing?

Oh . . .

My eyes widen in horror.

Hayden has her arm up a cow’s ass to the armpit . . . or is it a vagina . . . or is it . . .

I feel the blood drain out of my face as my knees go woozy.

I don’t feel so . . .





HAYDEN

Thump . . .

“For fuck’s sake,” Dad moans.

I glance up to see Christopher hit the ground hard as he faints.

I get the giggles as I try to turn the calf. “Go help him.”

“No, Hayden,” he replies dryly.

“Dad, I’m kind of busy here.”

“I don’t have time for his pretty boy bullshit,” he mutters as he walks toward Christopher, who is still out cold.

“Whoa, girl,” I whisper as I get the calf in position. “This will help you.”

I watch as Dad bends to Christopher, and I smile as I watch him gently slap his face.

I’m going to hang back and see what happens.

Christopher comes to and sits up. “You okay, babe?” I call.

He nods, embarrassed.

“He’s fine,” Dad calls. He grabs Christopher’s head and looks in his hair and says something that I can’t hear.

Christopher shrugs him off. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he scoffs.

I roll my lips to hide my smile.

“This damn fool needs stitches in his head,” Dad calls.

“Oh no.” I stand.

“You stay there,” Dad calls as he helps Christopher to his feet. “I’ll take him into town.”

I stare at them for a moment as I do an internal risk assessment. Okay . . . I need to let them do this. If they fight it out, they fight it out. I have faith that they will come to appreciate each other.

“Is that all right?” I call. “I can’t leave her.”

Christopher nods, and I jog over to him. He has a trickle of blood dripping down onto his shirt from the back of his head. “Are you hurt?”

“Only my pride.” He shrugs.

My dad throws his head back and laughs out loud, and I try not to laugh, I really do, but I fail miserably.

“I’m glad you two think this is so funny,” Christopher snaps. “I have internal bleeding. Perhaps an aneurysm is coming on.”