“Listen, I’ve covered for you before. I hoped he was with you. If he’s not, he’s gone. Big left him checking the water troughs in the pasture. He should have been back fifteen minutes ago.” Her voice was so low that Eleanor could barely hear her.
He’d done it, then.
She refused to believe it.
“Selma, please, please, please, give me time to find him and bring him back. The weather’s foul, he didn’t have any transportation unless he’s driving a tractor down the highway. He can’t have gotten far. I’m on my way to the farm now. He may have gotten hurt by one of the buffalo.”
“I can’t keep doing this. I’ll lose my job.”
“He hasn’t run away.” Eleanor hoped she sounded more certain than she felt. “Not after today. He simply wouldn’t.”
“Thirty minutes. That’s all you have. Then I’m ringing the alarms. Damn, I told you I hate tracking. And in this weather, too.”
Eleanor drove the rest of the way to the farm much faster than the speed limit, and slid to a stop on the concrete pad in front of the barn. She jumped out of her truck and began to shout his name. No answer.
She pulled up the hood of her heavy parka. “He’s got to be here somewhere,” Eleanor said. She shouted into the wind. The night was as black and frigid as the inside of a closed refrigerator.
If he hadn’t escaped, he’d have to be in one of the pastures. That meant he was hurt or worse. Something had kept him from returning to the compound.
In another couple of hours the roads would be treacherous, but the sleet had not yet begun to stick to the frozen earth of the pasture. Eleanor opened the pasture gate, drove her truck through, closed it behind her, turned on her halogen headlights and set her floodlight on the dashboard. So far the sleet was light enough that the floodlight penetrated it, instead of bouncing off.
She began to honk her horn in an SOS pattern—three long, three short, three long. That was supposed to be the signal from victim to rescuer, but it was the only Morse code she knew, so it would have to do.
She drove carefully, but still hit bumps and hillocks. She narrowly avoided a half-dozen scrub locust trees that suddenly reared up in front of her where she could have sworn there were no trees before.
The pasture, so familiar in daylight, had taken on a nightmare quality. She couldn’t spot even one cow, although she knew they were there somewhere huddled in the hollows, under the trees or in the run-in shed. They were used to bad weather.
She reached the top of the levee that surrounded the stock pond. If Steve had fallen or been pushed into that icy water by one of the cows… She shivered. The pond was shallow, but weighed down with clothes, even a strong man might be pulled under.
She yanked up the hood of her heavy jacket higher, grabbed the spotlight and climbed out of the truck.
“Steve!” she shouted.
Only the wind answered.
“Steve! Where are you?”
For a moment she thought she heard something. She caught her breath. Was it a trick of the wind or a voice? She wove the light from side to side, each time trying to see farther out into the icy water.
“Steve, where are you?” she shouted again.
“South end.” The words were faint. The wind tried to rip them away, but she heard them.
Her heart leaped in her throat, and a moment later she drove carefully along the bank.
Her cell phone rang. She’d forgotten to call Selma.
She hit Enter and said, “I’ve found him.” She heard the relief in her voice. “He’s at the far end of the pasture. I’ll call when I’ve got him.”
“You’re sure? You’re not just putting me on?”
“No! Damn! I need to concentrate on my driving. I’ll call you.”
“You now have twenty minutes before I call out the COs.”
“I found him, Selma, I told you.”
“You say. Unless I hear his voice within twenty minutes, I’m setting off the alarms.”
Eleanor heard a dial tone.
Exasperated and with full awareness that she was racing not only the weather but the clock, Eleanor stopped the truck and stepped out to call him again.
This time his voice sounded closer. “About twenty yards in front of you. Be careful. I’m in the pond.”
“Oh, my God!” She jumped back in the truck and nearly stalled it.
Then she saw him. He stood up to his knees in water at the edge of the pond. She aimed the floodlight and her headlights at him and climbed out to go to him.
“Are you stuck?”
“No, dammit. There’s a cow in the pond. I can’t get her out and I think she’s trying to calve.”
Eleanor pulled her flashlight out of her jacket pocket. Steve had his arms wrapped around the neck of one of the cows. He was obviously pulling, and the animal was just as obviously fighting him.
“What makes you think she’s calving?”
“She was hunching and straining with her tail up in the air, and then she came down here. I was my way back to the barn when I saw her and grabbed her. If she’s had the calf, it’s drowned. I couldn’t hold both ends out of the water at the same time.”
Eleanor jumped down into the pond. She gasped as the icy water flooded in over the top of her red rubber boots.
“Careful. It’s slippery.”
She waded to the rear of the cow and stuck her hands into the icy water. She couldn’t feel anything. Thank God, the calf’s sharp little hooves hadn’t broken the birth sac. “The water must have arrested the contractions. We’ve got to get her out of here fast.”
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do? I’ve been yelling my lungs out. By the time I got to this stupid cow, I was all alone out here. I thought they’d have the dogs after me by now. This is one time I’d have been glad to see them coming, bloodhounds and all.”
“I made Selma hold off reporting you,” Eleanor said as she waded back to the bank. “Hang on to her, Steve. If we can get a rope around her head, we can winch her out with the truck.”
“Hurry. I can’t hang on much longer.”
Eleanor positioned the truck so that the winch on the front was generally aligned with the cow’s body, slid down the bank beside Steve and slipped the lasso over the cow’s head. Every muscle in the animal’s body was taut with resistance.
“Stupid cow!” Eleanor said. “Hold her until the line goes taut, then try to keep her from slipping it off.”
She kept the lights on Steve and the cow as she tied the line to the steel cable on the winch, engaged it and took up the slack in the line. The instant she felt it come taut, the cow began to low and toss her head as she tried to free herself.
She leaned out the window. “Watch her, Steve, don’t let her trample you.”
“Don’t worry about me. I couldn’t feel my feet if she did.”
“Come on, you nitwit excuse for a bovine, get your rear end out of that water!”
She felt the truck begin to slip forward down the side of the pond toward the water and jammed on the brakes.
“I’ve got to move the truck back over the brow of the hill, Steve, otherwise she’ll winch me right down into the lake with her.”
“Do it fast.”
Once the truck was beyond the crest of the hill, she engaged the winch again. The cow began to take one grudging step after another out of the water as the winch forced her forward.
“Get behind her, Steve, and shove her butt out of the water before we have to rescue that calf from a watery grave.”
Steve threw her a look, but he went. The moment he put his hands on her flanks, he shouted, “Get her out of here now. I feel feet.”
Eleanor turned up the winch speed. The cow popped out of the pond like a cork and trotted up the hill until she stood with her nose against the hood of the truck.
From the cow’s rump, Steve said, “Eleanor, get back here.” His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the urgency.
Eleanor jammed on her emergenc
y brake and ran toward him just as the cow gave a great groan and sank onto her chest.
As Eleanor dropped to her knees, the cow’s tail came straight up over her back and lashed across Steve’s face like a whip.
“Damn!” He grabbed the tail.
“It’s coming.”
With the floodlight now aimed three feet above their heads, they worked in semidarkness. The sleet had slacked off momentarily, but the wind had picked up. Eleanor’s hands were shaking and her teeth were chattering.
But the calf was warm. Or at least it was until it thrust its little front hooves through the sac that covered it and blinked wide brown eyes at the world.
“Get out of the way,” Eleanor said, and grabbed Steve’s arm just as the cow heaved herself up. They both grabbed for the calf as it slid to the ground.
The cow began to call instantly. The calf lay on the icy ground behind her. The new mother couldn’t turn her head because of the line that held her. “We’ve got to get the line off her.”
“We can’t leave them out here. The baby’ll freeze.”
“Can you pick him up?” Eleanor asked.
“This is one time I wish Big were here. Yeah. I can pick him up.”
“We’ll get him into the back of the truck. You’ll have to ride back there with him. I’m sorry, Steve. I promise we’ll get warm back at the barn.”
“What about the cow?”
“She’ll follow us. She won’t leave that calf.”
Eleanor ran around to the back of the truck to drop the tailgate, then helped Steve get the calf in. She pulled a tarpaulin out of her vet trunk. “Put that over you both.”
Steve laughed. A real laugh. “So now we’ll stay dry. God, I love your timing, Doctor.”
“I have no idea what the mother will do when I turn her loose. She may try to climb into the truck with you.”
She hit the release lever on the winch and leaned over the fender of the truck to pull the rope loose from the cow’s head.
The cow backed up, and for a terrible moment Eleanor was afraid she’d run back into the water. Eleanor inched around to the front of the truck, ready to toss the rope back over the cow’s head. “Cow, don’t you dare.”
She realized a moment later that the cow saw that truck as the menace keeping her from her calf. She stomped once, made a “humph” sound, and charged.
Eleanor dove for the hood of her truck a nanosecond before the cow hit the radiator grill with full force.
“Eleanor? What’s happening up there?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. Stay where you are whatever you do.”
This time the cow backed off and simply stood there while steam rose from her body and billowed out of her nostrils.
Eleanor swung to the ground, climbed into the truck, slammed the door and threw it into reverse.
Once Eleanor turned to head back toward the barn, she could watch the cow in her side mirror trotting behind the truck where Steve and the calf huddled together under the tarp.
Eleanor hadn’t given a thought to the other cows until she got to the gate. They were all clustered around as though waiting for an opportunity to bolt into the shelter of the barn the moment Eleanor opened the gate.
She drove up to it until her fender touched the bars, then climbed out. “Shoo! Scat! Go find your nice dry shed!” She clapped and shouted. Only the new mama stayed behind.
Eleanor opened the gate, drove through with the cow in tandem, then shut it again quickly before the others could change their minds and charge back. She drove all the way under the overhang and into the foyer of the barn.
Only then did she remember to call Selma. “We’re fine,” she said.
“You had exactly one minute left. Who’s we? Can I talk to Steve?”
“We is me, Steve, a cow of very little brain who is also a new mother, and her calf, which was nearly born under three feet of ice water in the pond. You can’t talk to Steve at the moment because he’s in the back of the truck with the calf and definitely under siege. Take my word for it. He’s there, all right.”
“Huh?”
“Steve was trying to get the stupid cow out of the pond before she had the calf. We managed it, but just barely. We’re all four soaked and half-frozen. It’ll be a miracle if we don’t wind up with pneumonia.”
“I’ll come down in the four-wheeler to pick him up.”
“No, you won’t! I can’t handle the cow and calf by myself, and I can’t wait until morning to check them over. Sign Steve out or whatever you do. Ernest already knows there are going to be nights when we have to work late or even around the clock. We’ve got to get these animals dry and warm, and then we’ve got to get ourselves the same way. Thank God I had the men bring an extra set of clothes down here. I’ll drive Steve up to the compound in the truck after we finish here, assuming I don’t have a crushed radiator leaking antifreeze all over.”
“Huh?”
“In the war between cow and radiator, radiator doesn’t always win. Don’t worry. I’ll get Steve back not much the worse for wear.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely. Selma, thanks for not alerting the COs. I told you Steve wouldn’t run off.”
“Not this time.”
“Cynic.”
“Experienced cynic. Every time I look at that man I see flight written all over him, and I don’t usually miss those signals. Be careful, Eleanor. He could still take off, only now he’s got your truck to do it in. And a hostage, if he wants one.”
“Won’t happen.”
“What won’t happen?” Steve asked as he leaned in the window of the truck.
“I’m trying to convince Selma that you aren’t going to steal my truck, take me hostage and escape.” She grinned at him, expecting a smile in return.
The startled expression on his face surprised her.
“Steve?” She opened the door and climbed out.
He went quickly back to the calf, who was now bawling lustily and trying to stand. He wasn’t getting much purchase on the slick metal bed of the truck, and he was making his mother very nervous.
“Come on, let’s bed these two down.”
The laughter, the joy she’d heard in his voice earlier was gone.
Despite the cold and wet, they worked side by side until the calf began to nurse and the cow settled down in an empty stall next to the three quarter horses. Eleanor gave both calf and cow shots, checked to be certain the cow was normal, as well, and only then realized how cold and wet she was. Steve must be much worse off, but he’d worked beside her without complaint.
“I’ve got dry clothes in the truck. I’ll go open the footlocker so you can get out your dry set,” she said. She tried to sound cheerful because she was still worried. “Go stand in the shower until you warm up, then I’ll drive you back up to the compound.”
“All right.” He turned away from her.
“Steve? You weren’t, were you?”
“What?”
“What Selma said.”
“No.” He touched her cheek with icy fingers. “Not tonight.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ELEANOR RAN BACK into the barn from her truck with a change of clothes and a pair of dirty running shoes that she kept for emergencies. She tried to keep them clean, but they tended to give off a faint whiff of cow manure when the wind was right.
She unlocked the footlocker in the storeroom and found the sack marked “Chadwick.” She would leave his clothes outside the shower room where he could reach them.
When she got up from her knees and turned around, Steve stood in the doorway behind her with a couple of thin prison towels in his hand. His face and hands were dry, but his clothes were sodden. In the harsh light of the office, his sleek wet hair was the same tawny brown as the cow’s pelt.
He’d taken off his jacket, but his shirt was wet through and clung to the muscles of his chest and arms, and his flat abdomen. His soaked jeans were pasted to his lean hips.
Eleanor tried to keep
her eyes on his face and not on his body. It wasn’t easy. She started to speak, then cleared her throat. “Here,” she said, and held the sack of clothes out to him. “You warm up in the shower while I make us a quick pot of coffee. Then I’ll shower and drive you back to the compound.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“No?” Looking at his serious face, she felt that same flutter of disquiet. Had he decided to make a run for it, after all?
He tossed the towels aside and pulled her to him. “There are better ways to warm up. Together.”
Now the flutter was no longer disquiet, but excitement. “Steve, we can’t. What if Selma comes looking for us?”
“At this point, I don’t give a damn.” He kissed her softly.
She responded to his kiss, then slid away from him and said with a smile, “You feel like a wet carp.”
“So do you. A cold wet carp.” He kissed her ear. “We can fix that. The shower room has a lock on the door and plenty of room for two.”
“If we’re caught…”
“To hell with rules.” He ran his hand down her back and up under her sweater. “I want to hold you, touch you, be inside you.”
She felt heat welling up from her center. She couldn’t resist him. She didn’t want to resist him. For one night, one small time, she wanted to forget where they were, who they were, and that they might be torn apart tomorrow.
Steve took her hand. He’d turned on the heater in the shower room. The warmth felt wonderful. His hands felt even more wonderful. He locked the door, then turned to her and lifted her sweater over her head.
Her cold fingers unbuttoned his wet shirt and helped him peel it off his shoulders.
Their wet jeans were harder to get off, but finally the things lay on the floor in a sodden heap.
Steve slowly peeled her wet panties down until she could kick them away, then she did the same for him.
He picked her up and carried her with him into the shower. She caught her breath as the warm water began to cascade over and between them.
Her fingertips tingled as full feeling returned. Now she could curl her fingers into the dark hair on his chest, cradle his questing head as he circled her nipple with his tongue.
The Payback Man Page 24