Wyoming Tough Read Online Free PDF

skirt to the ranch when I hired on. All my stuff is back home with my folks.”
    â€œYou’re noticing the suit. I wear it to impress potential customers,” he said with a grin. “Around town, I mostly wear slacks and sport shirts, so jeans will be fine. We aren’t exactly going to a ball, Cinderella,” he added with twinkling eyes. “And I’m no prince.”
    â€œI think they’re rewriting that fairy tale so that Cinderella is CEO of a corporation and she rescues a poor dockworker from his evil step brothers,” she said, tongue-in-cheek.
    â€œGod forbid!” he exclaimed. “Don’t women want to be women anymore?”
    â€œApparently not, if you watch television or films much.” She sighed. She looked down at her own clothing. “Modern life requires us to work for a living, and there are only so many jobs available. Not much economically viable stuff for girls who lounge around in eyelet and lace and drink tea in parlors.” Her dark eyes smiled.
    â€œDid I sound sarcastic? I didn’t mean to. I like feminine women, but I think lady wrestlers are exciting when they do it in mud.”
    She laughed explosively. “Sexist!”
    â€œHey, I’d watch two men wrestle in mud, too. I like mud.”
    She remembered being covered in that, and pesticide, on the ranch and winced. “You wouldn’t if you had to dip cattle around it,” she promised him.
    â€œGood thing I don’t know anything about the cattle business, then,” he said lightly. “So ask your boss if you can have three hours off next Friday and we’ll see the werewolf movie.”
    She hesitated. “Won’t it be kind of gory?”
    He sighed. “There’s always that cartoon movie that Johnny Depp does the voice-over for, the chameleon Western.”
    She laughed. He was pleasant, nice to look at and had a sense of humor. And she hadn’t been on a date in months. It just might be fun.
    â€œOkay, then,” she told him. “I like Johnny Depp in anything, even if it’s only his voice. That’s a date.”
    He smiled back. “That’s a date,” he agreed.
    Â 
    T HERE WAS A LOT TO DO around a ranch during calving season, and most of the cowboys—and cowgirl—didn’t plan on getting much sleep.
    Heifers who were calving for the first time were watched carefully. There was also an old mama cow who was known for wandering off and hiding in thickets to calve. Nobody knew why; she just did it. Morie named her Bessy and devoted herself to keeping a careful eye on the old girl.
    â€œNow don’t go following that old cow around and forget to watch the others,” Darby cautioned. “She can’t hide where we won’t be able to find her.”
    â€œI know that, but she’s getting some age on her and there’s snow being forecast again,” she said worriedly. “What if she got stuck in a drift? If we had a repeat of the last storm, we might not even be able to hunt for her. Hard to ride a horse through snow that’s over his head,” she added, with a straight face.
    He laughed. “I see your point. But you have to consider that this is a big spread, and we’ve got dozens of mama cows around here. Not to mention, we’ve got a lot of replacement heifers whoare dropping calves for the first time. That’s a lot of profit in a recession. Can’t afford to lose many.”
    â€œI know.” Her father had cut his cattle herd because of the rising prices of grain, she recalled, and he was concentrating on a higher-quality bull herd rather than expanding into a cow-calf operation like the one his father, the late Jim Brannt, had built up.
    â€œDang, it’s cold today,” Darby said as he finished doctoring one of the seed bulls.
    â€œI noticed.” Morie chuckled, pulling her denim coat tighter and buttoning it. She had really good clothes back home, but