thirteen

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GODLESS

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GODLESS.
chapter thirteen.

IT WAS ALREADY NOT A GOOD DAY for Brooke

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IT WAS ALREADY NOT A GOOD DAY for Brooke. Waking up, the bunkhouse quickly learned of an attack against the Dutton's and their cattle. She was a livestock agent but still she couldn't manage to get away from the barn for one day, she would have been lying if she said she wasn't slightly bitter.

Brooke was irritated, not at anybody or anything in particular. It was one of those days, when your shirt felt too tight and you hair was too heavy and hot on your own body. Her necklace felt like it was choking her and it all boiled to a point as she groaned and threw the leather bridle across the barn and watched as it slid to a stop against a wooden stall door.

"That do something to piss you off?"

The dark haired woman looked up at the entrance of the barn with a scowl, "the smell of tack cleaner combined with your voice makes me want to throw up."

"I'd offer help but now I don't wanna," Walker smirked as he came to a stop, leaning up against a wall and looking down at Brooke who sat on a hay bale with a rag in her hand and the small yellow jar of leather tack cleaner on the ground next to her.

Brooke leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees as she looked at him with a deadpanned expression, "sit down and help or get the hell out of my way."

"Bad day?" He asked but quickly held his hands up in mock defense as he registered the look Brooke had shot him, "not workin' horses today?"

Brooke shook her head as if to say no as she pulled her saddle into her lap, Walker moving to sit on the square bale next to her, "they're all out grazin' and I ain't in the mood to chase after 'em all day— they can rest til tomorrow."

"How's the boss man gonna feel about that?"

Brooke shrugged as she wiped the leather down with the cloth, rubbing in circular motions, "he'll be too busy tryna who threw clover in the damn field and killed a hundred head of cattle."

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