He narrowed his eyes to protect them from the bitter attack as he set to the task of freeing the squirming calf from the barbed wire wrapped around its leg. Controlling his anger, he whistled softly between his teeth, a habit he’d picked up from his stepdad. He inspected the wriggling creature, relieved to see only a portion of hair had rubbed off its hide. The cantankerous runt reminded him of his younger brother. Even now that he was older, it seemed he was forever pulling Dalton’s butt out of a wringer. “This is the third time this week I’ve saved your sorry ass,” he cautioned the calf. “You may not be so lucky next time.” Circumstances had caused Wyatt to become an adult long before he should have, and it had left him tainted. He had little patience with children or ornery calves, but like his brother, he’d give his life for them. “Dammit, do me a favor. Hold still.” He clenched his jaw from both frustration and cold.
