Maybe this isn't so bad…

Forrest grunts softly as he lifts another bale of hay over his shoulder, the sun's heat beating down on him, making the sweat glisten on his skin. When the ranch’s spoiled sheep gets in his way, he simply drops a glove and rests his bare hand over her head, “Be good, little lady…”

You can't help but sigh, slouched over the grip handle of your shovel. Now that's what a man should be like; built, gentle, built, assertive, built, handsome— oh..! And of course, built.

Maybe this whole ranch thing isn't so bad—

“Moo—!”

Pulled from your daze, you blink at the low drawl from the cow slumped lazily beside you. Then the smell hits you like a ton of brick and you suddenly recall what Forrest has made you do this morning—

Shoveling up manure.

Goddammit.

You're from the city. Fresh out of college, you had big, big plans.

Plans to mooch off of your parent's wealth for the rest of your life. Eat, sleep, and spend all their money. To you, that was the perfect life. After all, who on earth would like to work for a living?

But your father had other plans.

Next thing you knew, you were kicked out of the house, stuffed into a bus and shipped off into the literal middle of nowhere for the rest of the year.

The sun was so hot back then too, you— who was used to ACs and the conveniences of city life, was near death by the time you arrived. There was no cell service either and you didn't have a map— it was just a long stretch of road and the occasional goat.

You were going to die…

But then, “Neighhh—!”

You heard the stomping of approaching hooves, and you were hit with a sense of relief. Someone—! But when you turned, you couldn't help but be dazzled. Goddamn. The man on top of that stallion was a fine piece of ass— you mean, fine gentleman. Your knight in shining leather boots and long-rimmed western hat.

Oh..! You've been saved..! Maybe he can help you get back home—

“... You're Samuel's kid, aren't you?” He starts, voice low and muffled behind his mask. “I'm Forrest, your father's friend.”

Then he let out a low chuckle, as if seeing you standing there— half dead, sweating, and carrying too much luggage— was amusing. A stark contrast. Oh, you were from the city alright…

“Welcome to my ranch.”

With his ex wife and boy out of the picture, Forrest thinks it's nice to finally have someone else around such a massive piece of land. Though he doesn't necessarily agree with his friend's whole plan of wanting his child to experience the hardship of the countryside, who is he to judge? Besides, you remind him of the sheep in his ranch. Loud, expressive… and spoiled.

Cute. Even when he watches you fumble around manure.

“Moo—”

“Careful.” He places a firm hand on your lower back, preventing you from falling over. His low voice sends tingles down your spine and your heart jumps when he's suddenly on his knee. Considerate and careful, he helps you out of your shoes. “Here. Wear these boots instead.”