Chase and Mira had been gone less than two days, and Steen was convinced the job was going to kill him. He'd already gone the "almost dead" route, and now that he'd reclaimed his place in the land of the living, he wasn't sure he was ready to go down that road again. He wasn't ruling it out indefinitely, just not at the moment, and he really didn't want to die shoveling horse manure. He set down the hay bale and leaned over, bracing his gloved hands on the hay as he tried to steady himself. His mind was spinning, and his back was drenched with sweat from the effort of fighting off the pain in his side. When had he become such a lame ass that he couldn't do basic physical labor? Yeah, true, he'd been feeling a lot stronger this morning than he had a few days ago, but he'd pushed it too hard and now he was paying for it. He hadn't even done that much. Shit. He was pathetic. He bowed his head, struggling to catch his breath. A few minutes of rest, and he'd be fine. Just a minute— "Hello?
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