Breeding Kink
Breeding with the Ranch Hand
Lindy agrees she’ll do her part to keep the ranch in the family
Enzo Crawford was known for his pragmatism, even if it threw other people into a fit. But if his ideas helped keep his ranch thriving and people employed, anyone who didn’t like what he said could bathe naked in an ice thaw.
When he told his daughter Lindy and her husband Rafael what he wanted, their mouths dropped as wide open as the cave at the base of Cooper Mountain. He stood with his legs planted firm on the wide porch, puffing his pipe, and gazing over the acreage and watching Luke, the ranch’s foreman in the distance.
“What do you mean, Daddy?” Lindy’s voice was always as soft as a summer breeze. She brushed her long hair from her face.
“You heard me. I want this ranch to continue long after I’m gone,” said Enzo, twirling the end of his mustache.
“You’ve got me,” said Rafael, his voice already signaling defeat.
“You’re a lawyer,” scoffed Enzo. “You shuffle paper, fly to Palm Springs on golf outings, and take too many vacations to New York to see plays on Broadway.”
“But I’ll be around for years.” Rafael protested and glanced at his jeans which suddenly looked too clean.
