sort of thing, didn’t they? Even as desperate as I was, I knew not to use magic. Besides being afraid of ripping the udders off the cows with a poorly woven spell, I had a feeling that if I used magic, I would either be whisked back to my apartment without seeing Gaia or I’d be forced to start completely over until I did it right.
Tightly clutching the stool and pail to my chest, I stared at the closest cow, feeling somewhat grateful that it completely ignored me as it focused on the pile of hay directly in front of its face. I could only hope that it stayed that way throughout this ordeal, because I didn’t have a fucking clue as to what I was doing. Oh, I knew the basic idea. Put the pail under the udders, sit on the stool, and squeeze the teats until milk squirted out, but then I was worried that there was more to the job than basic theory. Hell, the closest I had ever been to a living cow was an almost-raw steak smothered in onions and mushrooms from the local steakhouse.
Muttering to myself, I decided to start with theory and adjust from there. I didn’t have a watch on me, but I knew that it took the better part of thirty minutes for me to even start to get the hang of it and then another thirty minutes to squeeze the cow dry. But as Rocky said, as soon as she was empty, the cow slowly trotted out of the barn while I emptied the pail.
I moved to the next cow, finding that it got easier with each one that I finished, but I tried not to think about the fact that there had to be at least fifty cows in that barn. By the time the first row was done, I could barely open and close my hands, they had become so sore. At the three-quarters point, my back ached, my knees were throbbing, and I was pretty sure I’d never drink milk again. I had thought I was in good shape. I might have slowed down in my trips to the gym, but I hadn’t lost all my muscle. There was something about this work that left me with the realization that there were entire muscle groups that I had never used, and they were screaming now.
As the last cow trotted out of the barn, which I could no longer smell, I groaned, holding my sore hands out in front of me. I wasn’t sure I had the energy to move; my body was aching too badly.
Warm laughter jerked my head up to see a man and woman walking into the barn. Both were smiling, which was an improvement over Rocky. They wore overalls as well, but they didn’t look as worn or grumpy as my last companion. In fact, they both appeared to be in their early twenties with the fresh faces of health and youth.
“Nice job,” the woman said, her arm around the man’s back. “I knew you’d figure it out.”
The man slid away from the woman and stood before me. “Here, I’ll get that for you,” he offered, bending over to grab the full pail I had yet to empty.
“No,” I said sharply, wincing as I stood. My whole body protested the movement. “Thank you, but I can get it.” I started to bend over and grab the handle, but the woman placed a restraining hand on my shoulder.
“It’s okay. It won’t count against you,” she whispered. Her wide brown eyes were soft and sympathetic. I sighed and nodded, slowly straightening my body again. The man chuckled as he grabbed the pail and quickly tipped the contents into one of the containers at the end of the room.
When he rejoined us, he clapped me hard on the back, nearly knocking me forward. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Some cold water will help relieve some of the pain in your hands.”
Wordlessly, I followed him out to the front of the barn and over to an old water pump. He grabbed the handle and gave it a few hard pumps before water started pouring out. I dipped my hands into the ice-cold water and sighed in relief. The chill coursed through my body, seeming to wash away the aches. I rubbed the liquid up my arms and then splashed some on my face, instantly feeling refreshed.
“Is Rocky coming back for me?” I asked, shaking off the excess water.
“He’s