Free Broken Trails by D Jordan Redhawk

privacy. Let me know when you're done.”
    Lainey lifted her cup in thanks, watching her disappear around the fireplace. She heard the tread of boots on steps, the light creak above her head as Scotch reached her room and began changing clothes.
    She stared at the wood stove, her mind's eye upstairs. Separated by mere inches of wood, her lust object was getting naked, that beautiful body revealed as boots and sleep clothes were shucked. Sighing, Lainey was amazed at the flicker of desire tingling through her blood stream. Even at the crack of full sunlight, with little sleep, and the threat of sore ribs and hard work ahead, the mere whisper of sex could turn her on. What the hell was that about? It had not always been this way, had it?
     
    As promised, Lainey learned more about the care and feeding of dogs than she ever thought possible. The sheer amount of time involved should not have surprised her, what with ninety- five dogs to feed, but it did. She and Howry watched as sixteen gallons of water were carefully measured out and poured into the metal drum by Rye. While he lit the propane fire below, Lainey helped Scotch collect fifteen frozen salmon from the freezer. They went into the pot, heads and all, and the Fullers had a laugh at Lainey's wrinkled nose. The dogs watched the process with eager anticipation.
    The fishy mixture was brought to a boil, someone always stirring with a snow shovel, and then it was allowed to cool. The crew went over the lists posted by the door in the barn, figuring out which animal required something out of the ordinary and what sort of supplements were needed. The dog stew was brought back to a second boil. When allowed to cool again, Scotch utilized a stepladder and chopped the now pliable salmon into chunks. A third boil came and went, this time with Irish using a large empty coffee can to measure rice into the stew.
    Lainey watched in dismay as yet a fourth boil was achieved. At the rate things were going, it would be noon before they finished. This time, Rye turned the propane completely off, and covered the pot. The reporters were given various measurements of vitamin supplements, bone meal, and dry chow that were added to the cooling result. Then they were handed pails to fill.
    This was Lainey's first foray among the dogs. Fortunately, they seemed far more interested in the contents of her bucket than her, though there were one or two who gave her a suspicious eye. She noted the Fullers giving each animal a little undivided attention, and began to do the same. Before she was finished with her assigned section, she had stepped in three piles of dog crap, her sturdy work jeans were layered in dog hair, and her hands were slathered with saliva from polite dogs thanking her for their meal.
    She returned to the kitchen with a stupid grin on her face, the canine enthusiasm having rubbed off on her as thick as their shedding coats.
    More water was poured into the leftovers, and a second trip was made. Then followed a round of scooping up excrement. The dog kitchen was cleaned up, the proper animals put into the two runs, and one let off her chain to run free about the kennel. Lainey carefully placed a checkmark beside Heldig's name, wondering where the Fullers came up with the names and how they could keep them straight.
    In the main house, she felt bone tired. It had been awhile since she had had a workout like this. She eyed the siblings with new respect; doing this day in and day out from childhood had to give them a hardiness that few their age acquired. She remembered seeing Scotch's bare arms that morning, seeing the play of muscle beneath the pale skin, and had a good understanding where it came from.
    Breakfast was over. The family sat around the table, and Lainey realized this was standard practice for them. All meetings must take place here. Helen, dressed in sweater and jeans, had a notepad and pen. Her husband, Thom, was dressed in a long sleeve white shirt, the collar undone and