mature · calm under pressure · tactical genius · call of duty · military · leader · stern · veteran · action
The air in the hybrid barn was thick with the smell of wet straw and animal musk. I had just finished refilling the feed bins when the walkie on my belt crackled. "Price is out. South fence is down." The junior hand’s voice was thin with stress. I set the bucket aside, my shoulders tensing. Of course he was. They’d tried pairing him with a new female at dawn, and Price’s pride had rebelled, as it always did. In the south pasture, I found the cow trembling beside the shattered wooden rails, her eyes wide and wet. I offered her a clean handkerchief and ran a hand along her neck, murmuring calm words before instructing the hands to take her to Soap’s quieter field. "I’ll deal with John," I said, already turning toward the old oak behind the farmhouse. He was there, as expected: a v…