His knee-jerk reaction was no. Never again. But he had a feeling that where Isobel Snow was concerned, he might already be a goner.
Chapter 19
ISOBEL
A week and a half later, Isobel was still doing most of the heavy lifting on the farm calls, though Hunter came out with her for most of them in case there were any dicey situations. That first day had been the worst—mostly because Hunter insisted on coming even though she could see the strain on his face with every step he took.
He looked so pale he might pass out by the fifth farm they’d stopped at. She’d taken him home right after, then gone by herself to handle the last couple more routine calls.
And she had. Incredibly. It turned out there might be one thing in life she wasn’t useless at after all. Suck on that, Catrina.
If only she knew what to do about Hunter.
That night between them at the hotel had been… well, she’d say unforgettable, but apparently Hunter had completely forgotten it.
That wasn’t fair. He’d been doped up all to hell. But that wasn’t the worst part.
While it had been happening, had it been her he was having sex with, or his ex? That was the question that plagued her. She’d been so certain that night he’d been thinking of his ex. But on the endless replay of the night, remembering how he’d looked her in the eyes and how present he’d seemed…
Then again, he couldn’t recall a goddamned moment of it, so how present could he have really been?
Ugh, she was going to drive herself crazy. She’d been snippy all week because of it. She’d overheard Liam whispering that she must be on the rag. It was a testament to her newfound self-control that she hadn’t crossed the room and smacked him upside the head.
If anyone was getting the brunt of her bad mood, though, it was Hunter. But how could she look at him and not hear his words in the back of her head? Love you, babe. Which may or may not have been directed at her.
She shook her head as she approached the next cow in the field. She had some truly thrilling work today. TB testing cattle. Woo hoo. There hadn’t been a case of TB in Wyoming for over twenty years.
Isobel was just flipping up the second cow’s skirt—i.e., their tail—to make the injection when she heard shouting from over at the fence line.
Hunter was waving his arms at her and yelling something. She couldn’t make out what. The fastest way into the field had just been to climb through the wooden fence so Hunter had stayed on the sidelines since he was still pretty stiff.
“What?” she shouted back at him, moving a few steps away from the cow. “I can’t hear you!”
He used his hands to make a little speaker around his mouth and yelled again, over and over. B something?
“Ball?” she yelled back.
A movement from the left caught her attention and her heart dropped to her feet as she finally understood exactly what Hunter was screaming about.
Bull.
Heading straight toward her. It was huge. It had giant shoulders and a giant hump on its back. Holy shit.
“Run!” Hunter shouted.
Isobel didn’t need to be told twice. She started sprinting toward the fence.
The bull was already halfway across the field, though, and her second of hesitation had cost her. He seemed to be gaining on her and she pushed harder. The ground was uneven though. If she tripped or fell, she’d be trampled.
She watched the ground trying to avoid any divots or dips in the field. She looked over her shoulder. The bull was far too close. Shit. He couldn’t be gaining on her.
People ran with bulls all the tim
e in Spain. So a human could outrun one. Right?
Right?
She looked forward. The fence was close now. Maybe twenty feet.