Davey took it in stride, but she felt as if she were walking on eggshells around the reporters, always fretting she would say the wrong thing. She couldn’t understand why they wanted to talk with her anyway. Racing was Davey’s gig. She wanted to live her life privately and she wanted the same thing for Ben.
When a knock sounded, she made her way to the front door. She tugged it open and greeted Steph with a tight hug. After Nora released her friend, she gestured toward the living room. “Come in. Davey should be here any minute.”
Davey was on his way home from Las Vegas where he’d won yesterday’s Kobalt 400. Cruz was staying in Vegas for one more day to work with the crew, so she had invited Steph over to congratulate Davey on his win along with her.
She was anxious to see her guy. A gooey warmth spread through her when she thought about him in that way. He’d left on Thursday—only five days ago—but she’d missed him. They had talked and texted every day, but it wasn’t the same as being together.
A sparkle of light flashed, drawing her attention back to the now. She lifted Steph’s right hand. “Let me look at this gorgeous ring again,” she said, grinning at her friend. “It’s stunning.”
Steph wiggled her fingers. As sun shone through the living room windows, her ring glittered dots of light across the hardwood floor. “I couldn’t be happier,” Steph said, and Nora hugged her again.
“Let’s turn on the sports highlights.” Nora picked up the remote. “So we can gloat over Davey’s win.” She clicked on the TV.
The local noon news was on. “No one seems to know why the crazy cow broke out,” the reporter said as cameras flashed to a brown and white cow galloping down a busy street.
As Nora felt the cow’s angst through the TV, sadness tore at her insides. She flopped onto the couch as the remote dropped from her hand to the floor.
“Sweetie.” Steph rushed over. “What’s wrong?”
“The cow,” Nora whispered, nodding at the TV.
“Local authorities continue the cow chase,” the blonde reporter said. “The farmer says he’s never seen anything like this. The cow broke out of his farm by ripping her way through a barbed-wire fence.”
“Something’s wrong.” Nora gaped at the TV following the cow’s every move even as her eyes clouded with tears. “Very, very wrong.”
Steph put her arms around Nora and pulled her in close. But even her friend’s motherly nurturing didn’t ease her distress.
The news broadcast dramatically zoomed in on every speck of blood in the cow’s path. They highlighted the play-by-play chase that included policemen, firemen, and local volunteers. She pressed a hand to her churning belly. Why couldn’t any of them feel the cow’s suffering?
There were two quick taps on the door—Davey’s trademark knock—then he entered with a wide grin.
“Hey—” He cut his sentence short when he glanced at her and Steph on the couch. He rushed over. “Hey there, what’s wrong?” he asked, lowering himself to the sofa next to Nora.
“The cow,” she murmured. The dam of tears she’d attempted to hold in broke. Davey gently stroked her back as she sobbed. “She’s hurt…suffering…something’s wrong,” she managed in between her sniffles.
“I’m here,” he said, putting his arm around her. She appreciated that more than any empty platitude he could have given her.
As Davey gently rubbed her arm, Steph took her hand and squeezed it. With their support, Nora finally pulled herself together. She attempted to connect with the beautiful creature through the TV. But the only emotion that came through was an intense and daunting fear. Feeling helpless, she stared at the broadcast as the chase continued. Finally, the cow was caught.
Davey lifted her chin. “See, sweetie, now the cow can go home.”
“You don’t understand,” she said, as new tears formed and rolled down her cheeks. “She needs help.” While the cow’s fear had blocked Nora from connecting any deeper, the animal had been putting out signals that something was desperately wrong. Something bigger than the cow herself. “I need to rescue the cow.” The words came out of her mouth before she had the opportunity to think.
Davey’s mouth dropped open. Under other circumstances she would have laughed at his deer-in-the-headlights expression. She understood his surprise; she was surprised by her impulse too.
How could she rescue a cow? She didn’t have a place to keep her and she knew nothing about caring for a cow. Her head flooded with doubts until her heart stepped in and took over. She had to help the cow. “I want the cow,” she said, using the firm voice that she used with Ben when she needed his immediate attention.
Davey snapped his head toward Nora. He’d heard her use that tone once or twice with Ben, but she had never used it with him. He had hoped she’d been joking about the cow. But she looked serious. Her hands were carefully folded in her lap, her chin lifted, her jaw set.
Frustration unfurled as he pressed a hand to the back of his neck. Why did she want the cow? She sure as hell wouldn’t eat it, so what would she do with it? The question formed on his lips but before he could ask, his mother reached across Nora and put a hand on his leg. “Go get her the cow.”
Damn it. Now his mother was in on it too. He wanted to make Nora and his mother happy, but a cow? His frustration expanded and kicked him in the gut.
He glanced down at his mother’s hand. “What am I supposed to do with a cow?”
“You have a barn.” She patted his leg. “You’ll figure it out.”
Getting a cow that they weren’t going to milk or eat was ridiculous, nonsensical…crazy. He lifted his gaze to talk some sense into Nora. Only her green eyes had darkened and in them was a caring, hopeful glint that he knew he couldn’t deny.
Chapter Twenty-One
The next morning as the first rays of light sifted through Davey’s bedroom window, he cursed himself. Nora was at work and he had a damn cow to care for. What had he been thinking?
He got out of bed, showered, and dressed. Making his way to the kitchen, he turned on the coffee, missing Cruz who had stayed in Vegas for an extra day to work with their team. Cruz was mentoring Billy to take over as Crew Chief when he retired, which would likely happen much sooner than Davey wanted.
Cruz had stepped up the retirement talk after his engagement. Davey was happy for Cruz and his mom but when the day came for Cruz to retire, it would change everything. Cruz had been with him from the start and part of the joy he got out of racing was the time he spent with Cruz.
He pushed those worries aside. Now, he had more immediate concerns…like a cow to take care of. He guzzled down some coffee, then made his way outside.
Last night, Nora indicated she had connected with the cow—whom she’d named Concordia, after the Roman goddess of harmony. She’d suggested that the cow was distressed because her calf had been taken. “They killed her baby,” Nora had lamented.
Approaching the barn, he heard the cow’s mournful moo’s. He wasn’t completely convinced that Nora had communicated with the cow, nor did he know whether her calf had been taken. But it was clear that something was wrong. The cow’s sound wasn’t happy. It was a sad, pathetic moo…a moo of distress.
When he entered the barn, the cow stopped moo’ing and stared at him expectantly. He had no idea what to do. He didn’t know squat about farm animals and he didn’t have any communication magic up his sleeve.
Studying the cow, he scratched his head. He wanted to help, but he was out of his element. He knew cars and engines, not cows and farms. What could he possibly do to help?
Even so, he was inexplicably drawn to her. In a trance-like state he moved closer. The cow was at least 1,500 pounds but for such a large creature she seemed gentle enough. Maybe it was her light brown coat or the white curly hair covering her head. As he stepped even closer, he decided it was her big, soulful eyes.
She extended her head when he approached.
“Hey, Concordia,” he said, trying to imitate the soothing tone Nora h
ad used with her. He held out his palm and the cow touched her nose to his hand. “I’d like to help, but this is outside of my expertise.”
Her large, dark eyes linked with his and he immediately felt a connection. It was an intense bond, like the cow had somehow looked deep into his soul. After a long moment, she lowered her head so it was directly in front of his face. Did she want to be petted? Nora had rubbed Concordia last night, but Nora was different. He didn’t think cows were animals one should pet.
But Concordia remained in place, waiting patiently.
What the hell. He reached out and pressed his palm to her big head, then gently rubbed it.
Concordia let out a soft snort.
Aw, she liked it.
Now, what? It was ridiculous to talk with a cow. But as he stroked her fur, he found himself doing it anyway. “Like I said, I want to help.” Concordia nuzzled her head against his hand like Daisy did when she wanted to be pet, making him laugh. “Sure, some of it’s for Nora, ‘cause I’m pretty into her. But you’re not so bad yourself.” He continued to rub her soft head. “But I don’t know what to do. If you have any ideas, I’m game.” Puffing his cheeks, he questioned his sanity. He’d just asked a cow for help.
But an idea popped into his head. He could go back to the farm and ask if Concordia had given birth. If she had, he could buy her calf.
Concordia bobbed her head up and down as if in concurrence with his idea. Jesus. He pulled his hand back and ran it through his hair, hoping he hadn’t lost his marbles.
An hour later, he was on the front porch of the big white farmhouse. Mrs. Potter pulled the door open with curlers in her hair and a baby on her hip. She gave him a questioning look. “Problem with the cow?” she asked. “No refunds on our deal.”
His jaw tightened. He would have expected her to care about the cow, instead of focusing solely on the money. But he had paid a ridiculous amount and maybe that was how farms worked—cows were simply products to be sold. He thought about sweet Concordia and the bond they’d established earlier. The sun poked through the clouds and lit up the entire sky as he identified with Nora’s way of thinking for the first time.
“How can I help you?” Mrs. Potter bounced the brown-haired girl on her hip.
“Did Concor—” He cleared his throat. Mrs. Potter didn’t know about the cow’s name, nor did she likely care. “Did the cow you sold me recently give birth?”
“Yes. Why?” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you need to learn how to milk?”
Hell no, but before he could say so, she pressed on.
“You look like a city boy, but anyone can learn how to milk a cow.”
“I don’t want to learn how to milk,” he said.
“But you have to. The cow you purchased is a dairy cow,” Mrs. Potter said, looking at him like he was a bumbling idiot. “She needs to be milked every morning and evening.”
Davey frowned. He didn’t want to milk Concordia.
Mrs. Potter must have sensed his hesitation because she put a hand on his arm. “You have to or you need to find someone who can milk for you. If dairy cows aren’t milked on schedule their udders fill with milk and they can get mastitis.”
He scratched his chin, and Mrs. Potter shook her head. “It’s an inflammation of the udder. Left untreated it can cause serious issues. If gangrene sets in, the cow could die.”
That got Davey’s attention. He wouldn’t let Concordia die on his watch. Shit. He was going to have to learn how to milk. Raking his fingers through his hair, he caught Mrs. Potter’s gaze. “There’s no other way?”
She laughed. “Not unless she’s nursing her calf.”
Relief whooshed through Davey as he remembered why he was there in the first place. “Can I buy the calf?”
She shook her head. “It’s too late. We sold the calves.”
Whistling out a breath, Davey stuffed his hands in his pockets. Nora had been right. About all of it—the reason for Concordia’s distress, the fact that her calf had been sold. His heart welled with admiration for Nora, for her special gift, for her kind and caring ways. “Can you tell me who bought the calf?”
“I’m not sure.” She gave him a flat look. “You know privacy and all that.”
“I understand but I really need the information.” He pulled a couple of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket. “Sure you can’t help me?”
Her eyes brightened as they locked on the bills. “Maybe, but we sold a bunch of calves.” She pursed her lips. “Even if I told you, you’d have no way of knowing which one was hers.”
He had no idea how he would he figure that out either, but first things first. He waved the bills. “Let me worry about that. I just need a name and contact info.”
“Okay.” She gestured for him to come inside. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll get the information for you.”
A short while later, Davey drove home pondering his next steps. He had the name and address of the farm who had purchased Concordia’s calf along with a truckload of other calves. He’d already located the farm on his phone’s GPS. Thankfully it was in Tennessee, even though it was an hour and a half away. But he still had the problem of figuring out which calf belonged to Concordia.
At home, he headed straight for the barn. He’d gotten his last idea while petting Concordia—maybe she’d plant a new idea in his head. When he made his way past the barn to the side field, Concordia stood at the gate as if she’d been waiting for him to arrive.
Like he had done earlier, he approached her slowly, extending his hand. She brushed her nose over his palm, then lowered her forehead.
He laughed. “You like rubs, don’t you girl?” He stroked the middle of her soft white head. “So, here’s the thing. I found the farm that has your calf. I want to get her for you, but how will I know which one is yours?” He still felt odd talking to a cow, but the crazy feeling vanished the moment an answer popped into his head.
He could take Concordia with him. Shaking his head, he caught the cow’s laughing eyes. “Are you really communicating with me?”
She gave him a happy moo.
He hooked the livestock trailer he’d purchased yesterday to his truck and backed it up to the fence gate. When he opened the door and lowered the ramp, Concordia simply walked up it and into the trailer. That went way easier than he had anticipated. Once she was in the trailer, she nudged him with her nose, in a soft appreciative gesture.
Shaking his head, he got behind the wheel and drove to the address near the Tennessee-Kentucky border.
Along the way, he called the number Mrs. Potter had given him and was beyond relieved to learn that the calves were still there. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he told the farmer, promising big bucks for one of the calves.
After he arrived, the hardest part was explaining what he wanted to a farmer who didn’t get it. “I just want to put my cow in with the calves, let her find hers, then take them both home.”
“Whatever for?” Johnny Kent asked, his voice clearly perplexed.
Davey couldn’t blame Johnny. Last year, if someone had told him that he’d be at a farm begging for a calf so the mama cow who lived in his barn could have her baby, he would have deemed them a lunatic. Yet here he was.
He tried a new approach. “It’s my girlfriend’s cow and she wants the calf too.”
The old farmer gave Davey a look that was half-pity, half-what’s-wrong-with-you. His expression suggested that Davey was every bit as whipped as AJ had teased last weekend in Vegas, but he didn’t care.
The farmer cocked his head as recognition dawned on his face. “Hey, aren’t you Davey Johnson?”
“Depends.” He flashed a grin. “Are you a fan?”
“I sure am.” Johnny’s face stretched into a smile. “Hey Wanda, come ‘mere,” he called over his shoulder.
A plump older woman rounded the corner. “Davey Johnson!” Her whole face lit up as she approached. “What are you doing on our farm?”
“He wants one of the calves we
got from the Potter’s,” Johnny said.
They talked NASCAR for a few minutes and then Wanda asked Davey why he wanted the calf.
Slightly embarrassed, he scuffed his foot on the ground, then explained the situation all over again.
“Well aren’t you a sweet man?” Wanda said, patting his arm. “Johnny, give him the calf.”
“I was gonna,” the farmer grumbled.
Relief fell over Davey like a summer rain. Nora would be beyond thrilled when she learned that he’d saved Concordia’s baby. He pulled out his wallet. “How much do you want for the calf?”
“This one’s on us.” Johnny gave him a lopsided grin. “But we’d sure love a picture with you.”
They snapped a few pictures, then Wanda patted Davey’s cheek and wished him Godspeed in Phoenix.
Afterward, Johnny followed Davey to his truck where he retrieved Concordia, feeling silly putting a halter on her so he could walk her like a dog. But the cow didn’t seem to mind. As they followed Johnny to the barn, an intense, almost unbearable stench of manure slammed into Davey. Eyes watering, he tried to hold his breath as he took a look around.
It was no wonder that the place reeked. The barn was jam-packed with livestock, cow after cow mushed together in tight living quarters. He hoped the cows didn’t live like that all the time. Maybe they were in the barn because of the unusual cold spell. He studied Johnny as they made their way through the barn. The old farmer had his hands in his overall pockets and was quietly whistling “Rocky Top,” seemingly oblivious to the animals poor living conditions. Focusing on Concordia, Davey attempted to communicate with her. Find your calf quickly so we can get the hell out of here.
Concordia moo’ed and bobbed her head up and down.
Davey rubbed a palm over his cheek. Maybe he really was losing his marbles.
“The calves are over here.” Johnny pointed toward a fenced-in section on the far side of the barn.
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