Clueless Cowboy

by Mary Connealy

  She stopped when he signaled, but she was there. And knowing it made all the difference. It gave him the courage to remember.

  “I must have prayed that same prayer for a year before I finally gave up. It was how I put myself to sleep at night. I’d talk to God about my mom. Our housekeeper told me she had a new husband. I’d ask God to make her come for me. Or I’d pray for my father to come in, just once, and tuck me in bed. We had live-in help that took care of me. The one that was there when Mom left was really kind. She’d come in and read me stories and help me say my prayers. But Dad changed hired help constantly, and before I knew it she was gone, and the new housekeeper didn’t like bothering with me. I kept saying my prayers though. Not just for my parents but even for the housekeeper to come. Anything to break up that aloneness.”

  “Jake, I’m so sorry.” Her compassion washed away the pain of his reflection.

  Jake looked at her and smiled. “Don’t be. I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I just realized I wasn’t alone all those long, dark nights. God was with me. He was always there. I knew it then.” He knelt next to her in the grass, just as Stephie came into the clearing. He reached for the puppy to keep himself from reaching for Emily. “Hope hurt too much after a while. So I quit asking, quit praying. But by doing that, I see now I shut out the only One who was there.”

  Emily smiled up at him, but he saw a sheen of tears in her eyes. Whatever she saw in his expression, helped to keep her tears from spilling.

  “I’ve found Him again, Emily. I want to say He’s here, here on this ranch. But the truth is He’s been with me everywhere. I’m the one who quit talking. I’m the one who made my loneliness come true. But I’m never going to be alone again. This time I’m keeping Him close.”

  “When you’re done being a secret, you can come to our church. It’s a country church with lovely people in it. I think you’d like them. They’d welcome you. You’d make friends, Christian friends who’d be interested in you for yourself, not your money. You never have to be alone again.”

  Their eyes met.

  Jake knew then, with God in his heart and Emily in his arms and little Stephie at his side, he had already left his lonely life behind. His eyes locked with hers and too much passed between them to ignore.

  Stephie arrived with her latest load. Jake rose, the puppy in one hand, and reached down with the other to assist his lovely neighbor to her feet. “Get up and teach me what to do with all these animals. Then I’ll come over and help you with your chores. You must be hours behind.”

  Emily hesitated, but she looked from his outstretched hand to his smiling eyes and, with the generosity he’d come to expect from her, she reached out to him. He pulled her to her feet, and just for a second she was too close.

  “Can I hold the puppy?” Stephie begged.

  Jake dropped Emily’s hand. He turned to Stephie and, needing to find an acceptable way to express his joy, he gave her the little dog, then swished Stephie off her feet and swung her and the puppy around in the air until they were helpless with laughter.

  Sixteen

  A new neighbor had moved in next door.

  There was no other way to describe it. Whoever lived there wasn’t Jake. No one could change like he had.

  Or maybe it was fairer to say this was Jake, and whoever had lived there before was gone. She had to admit she’d seen flashes of this relaxed, kind gentleman over the weeks, especially around Stephie. But now there seemed to be nothing left of the old. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, Jake had transformed into something wonderful.

  He was at her house constantly. He ate all his meals there, including breakfast. He prayed fervently before he ate each meal, taking over the prayers as if he were head of the household.

  He did so many of her chores she felt guilty, and he had more patience with Stephie than Emily did. Stephie and she were at his house every day, fussing over the chicks and trying in vain to train the puppy.

  The chicks grew with startling speed. By the end of June, they’d changed from precious, fragile babies into clucking scavengers. Emily was relieved that they got by without the heat because she knew Jake would feel terrible if they died.

  Emily decided to force Jake to accept one tiny modern convenience. She showed up at his house one morning with a portable bottle of propane. The dog barked like crazy when she came over, but Jake didn’t wake up. What was the point of having a guard dog if you slept through his alarm?

  She sneaked into his basement through the sloped cellar door, then hooked the little bottle of gas into the hot water heater in the belly of Jake’s castle. She lit the heater without his seeing her.

  Later in the morning, she turned on the tap. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, Jake.”

  Jake looked up from the kitchen table where he and Stephie were taking a milk and cookie break. “What do you mean?”

  The faucet began to steam.

  “Hot water.”

  Jake rose slowly from the table.

  Emily waited for the explosion. To head it off, she said, “A hot shower will feel great.”

  He caved with only a token fight and Emily knew he was a goner. He’d taken the first step down the slippery slope of convenience.

  Later, as Emily plotted what to force on him next—a gas stove maybe—she realized she pictured herself cooking at his stove. With a sinking heart, she admitted to herself she cared about him. It wasn’t friendship anymore.

  And he was leaving.

  Seventeen

  He was staying forever!

  Jake grinned as he tossed a bale of hay high in the air, clearing the wooden fence by several feet. The cows shoved their way close to the feeder set on the other side of the fence as he grabbed the next bale. They chomped and snorted as they shoved their way to the feed. He could throw bales so much faster than Emily she didn’t even help anymore.

  He loved it. In this one tiny area of his life he was better at ranching than Emily. Enjoying the pressure on his muscles as he heaved another bale, he knew it was silly to gloat, but he wanted to be in Emily’s league. He wanted to know everything there was to know. Not just memorize the chores to be done but understand all the whys.

  He wanted to sing out loud and shout praises to God. His reawakened faith was the best part of this lifestyle change. Yes, even better than Emily and Stephie, because he could care about them more with God in charge of his life. And the more he learned about Emily, the more he cared.

  He tried to conjure up indignation when she sneaked over and started up his hot water heater. How could she believe he hadn’t heard her with Lucky’s yipping? He’d almost called a halt to the gambit when she crept into his basement. She was breaking and entering, trespassing, plumbing without a license. Some of those were felonies. But before he generated the gumption to get out of bed and get dressed and go scold her, he thought of how great a hot shower would feel, and he decided they weren’t really important felonies. He’d bent his arms behind his head and nestled deeper into his pillow to listen contentedly to her clanking around in his basement.

  The last bale delivered to the greedy cattle, he tugged his leather work gloves off his hands and watched the big, placid animals crowd around the feed bunk. He heard the soft munching of their teeth against the bristling hay. He looked across the feedlot and watched Emily’s three-month-old calves frolic on the hillside. Beyond the rolling pastures of Emily’s land, the majestic peaks of the Black Hills stretched for miles. All around this clearing, tree branches rustled in the late afternoon July breeze.

  A beautiful place, a beautiful life. He wondered what amazing, fresh-vegetable-rich feast Emily was making for supper. The peas and radishes and leaf lettuce were gone now, but there were new potatoes and green beans, and the tomatoes hung heavy on the vine, a few showing the first tantalizing blush as they promised to turn from green to red.

  He tucked his gloves behind his belt buckle the way Emily did it, and enjoyed the sights, the sounds, the smells. The warmt
h of the afternoon sun on his denim-covered back felt great. His skin had finished peeling and he used caution now. He was learning.

  He ran one hand over his chest and let the strong beat of his heart reassure him that this was the life for him, not the burning, dying, high-stakes existence he had abandoned.

  Scampering footsteps warned him of the approach of Stephie and Lucky. “Did Cowlick have her baby?” Stephie skidded to a halt in front of him. She’d been asking him that same question a half-dozen times a day. Jake couldn’t help but be amused by her fascination, considering the dozens of calves right in front of her.

  “Not last time I looked. I was heading home now. Want to go with me to check?”

  “Sure. I’ll tell Emily.” Stephie ran off as fast as she’d come, and Jake started for home, knowing Emily would say yes. Lucky nipped at Stephie’s heels, and Jake admitted who the dog belonged to. Jake didn’t mind. He was over here as often as the dog.

  By the time Jake crested the hill toward his house, Stephie caught up and slid her hand into his with her usual breezy friendliness.

  Preoccupied with his enjoyment of the day, he didn’t notice anything different as he stepped in the barn. By the time his eyes adjusted to the slightly darker interior of the old building, Stephie had run back outside to check the pen.

  She dashed inside, grabbed his hand, and hauled him into the sunlight. “She’s gone. Cowlick’s gone!”

  Rustlers!

  A frantic look around the little yard where his heifer lazed her life away, awaiting the blessed event, revealed no cow. Someone had come onto his place in broad daylight, because he’d checked Cowlick just a couple of hours ago. Rustlers had driven away his entire herd. No one would get away with this bold assault on his property. He’d hunt for tracks. He’d form a posse. Hanging was too good for—

  “She’s having her baby.”

  Jake looked up from hunting for tracks. “How do you know that?”

  Stephie pointed to the ten-foot gap in his fence. “Look, she’s knocked that big wooden gate down over there. I know ’cuz cows run off to be by themselves when they’re gonna have babies. They do it at our place all the time.”

  He’d have noticed in a minute. He couldn’t read all the signs at once.

  “Come on. Let’s get Emily and go look for her.”

  It irritated him to go running to Emily for help. Maybe because he had appeared a teensy bit stupid to not spot the missing gate. “Why do we need to get Emily? She says the cow doesn’t need any help. She’s told me that a hundred times.” A couple hundred, because he’d been worrying and he’d asked and asked and asked.

  “Well, we should find Cowlick and bring her back, or at least make sure she hasn’t wandered too far. I guess we could go alone.” Stephie looked at him with such doubt in her eyes that Jake waged a war with his wounded manhood.

  Stephie adored him. She thought he could do no wrong. If she thought they needed Emily, they probably did. And he had taken a solemn oath to never scare Stephie or almost get himself killed again. Now might be his first chance to prove he possessed a learning curve. “Okay, let’s go get Emily.”

  Five minutes later, Emily crawled out from under her hay baler and deserted whatever adjustments she was making. “There’s no fence for miles to the north so she could be anywhere, but my guess is she didn’t go far.”

  Cowlick was over the crest of the first hill south of his house, standing so close to the fence she could touch noses with Emily’s cows if they wandered to that side of the pasture. For now, Cowlick was completely apart. Jake wondered if cows got lonely.

  “Yep, she’s calving for sure.” Emily absently dusted grime from her hands without taking her eyes off the mother-to-be.

  “She’s just standing there. How do you know she’s in labor?”

  Emily laughed at him for no reason he could understand. “Because she’s just standing there, that’s how I know.”

  Her amusement pinched more than it should. “That doesn’t tell me anything. You’re supposed to be teaching me.” He should be used to being the dumb one.

  She quit laughing. “Sorry, you’re right. I don’t mean to go laughing at your question. What she’s doing isn’t normal. So, I’m sure she’s calving. What made me laugh is labor. I’m not used to thinking of cattle that way. They’re a long way from humans when it comes to babies. The mama stands there and the baby is born. No birthing classes, no doctor in a white coat. Right now I’d like to shoo her on back to your barn. Being out here is just an old instinct. It doesn’t do her any good. I’d rather have her close up to the place.”

  Jake shook his head in disbelief at Emily’s insensitivity. “We can’t make her walk all that way. It’s cruel.”

  “What’s cruel is letting her have the baby out here and then making you carry the slippery little thing back to the barn on those big broad shoulders of yours, hotshot. I say let her tote the little tyke in before it’s born. Besides, if she has any difficulties, my doctoring stuff is back there. Let’s go.”

  “Doctoring stuff? Wait. . .what difficulties? I thought you said—” He was talking to himself.

  Stephie headed up the hill, and Emily followed. Jake went along but he thought the whole idea of making a lady in the throes of calf-birth take a long walk was barbaric. They headed Cowlick toward the barn. She strolled along like she didn’t have a care in the world. By the time they had her locked up, Jake had decided they were wrong about the baby being delivered any time soon.

  “Let’s grab an early supper, then come back and check her. I’m guessing you want to see the whole thing, right Jake?” Emily hefted the ten-foot panel back into place without asking for help. She found some baling wire and was half done securing it before Jake could lend a hand.

  “Weeellll. . .” Jake shrugged his shoulders sheepishly, suddenly feeling like a voyeur. “Yeah.”

  “Okay, it’ll be a while, so let’s eat, feed the chickens, and tie Lucky up. He might make the new mama nervous if he comes in at the wrong time.” With a final tug at the fence, Emily glanced at him for agreement, and they headed back to the Johannson ranch.

  Eighteen

  Jake barely tasted the new potatoes, steaming and tender, boiled with their skins on, that he and Stephie had dug. He nearly swallowed the crunchy, perfectly undercooked green beans whole even though he’d helped snap them. He had seconds of everything and a third grilled hamburger, just so it wouldn’t go to waste.

  He did slow down to savor the cherry cobbler Emily had made with the last of the cherries from her own tree. He’d helped freeze a couple of dozen quarts of cherries and Emily had taught him how to make jelly, then given him half of the jars. She put food like this on the table for every meal. Whatever was ripe in the garden.

  He was trying to cut back on his lavish compliments because she would look at him like he was some lab specimen when he marveled at her cooking. But on the rare occasion he held the gushing flattery, he could tell she missed it.

  Today, since Cowlick was probably in desperate need of him, he kept it to a minimum.

  ❧

  Hay hung from the corners of Cowlick’s mouth when they reentered. She gave them a bored look and kept chewing.

  Jake and Stephie began petting the cow’s head while Emily turned her attention immediately to the business end of birth.

  “Uh oh. Those aren’t front feet.”

  “Do you have to pull it, Emily?” Stephie was an old pro.

  It was Jake Emily was worried about. She didn’t have time to hold his hand.

  “Is there something wrong?” Jake came around to Emily’s side, then staggered backward, gasping.

  Two legs protruding from the back end of a cow could be a shock for a greenhorn. “Stephie, toss a scoop of corn in Cowlick’s feeder. Let’s get her in the head gate.” She slapped the heifer on her back, urging her forward.

  “Don’t hit her!” Jake grabbed her wrist.

  Emily smiled. “Cows have a tough hide. I’m not hu
rting her.”

  Jake held tight. “Can’t we get her to move without that?”

  Emily’s temper flared. “This calf is coming backward, and the longer it stays inside of her, the greater the chance of losing it. Let go.” She held his gaze until he reluctantly dropped her arm.

  Out of respect for Jake, she clapped the cow gently on her back, then a little harder. Cowlick didn’t budge. Stephie poured corn into the feeder, and the heifer stuck her head through the open head gate. Emily leaned forward to slide the stanchion shut around Cowlick’s neck. The cow ignored them and ate her grain.

  Emily dragged a heavy apparatus across the barn, along with a toolbox she had converted to a veterinary kit.

  Jake looked anxiously at the six-foot-long, Y-shaped metal brace with its dangling chain. “Where did that stuff come from?”

  “I moved it over here a while ago.” She upended a plastic bucket, then set it down, disconnected the chain from the brace, and dropped the chain in the bucket.

  “You mean you knew there was going to be a problem?”

  Rummaging in the vet kit she’d also moved over here earlier, she produced a pint bottle of iodine and poured most of the dark yellow liquid over the chain. “No, I was just being a Boy Scout. You know, be prepared?”

  Jake prodded the Y-brace with his toe. “It looks like a medieval torture device.”

  Emily spared him a quick smile. “It may look like that, but pulling a breech calf without it is backbreaking.” She reached into her first aid kit and grabbed a sealed package containing one sterile, shoulder-length, clear plastic glove. She tore it open and pulled the loose-fitting glove onto her right hand and up to cover her sleeve. She spilled the last of the iodine over her protected fingers. Sliding a loop of the sanitized chain over the baby’s legs, she tightened them and turned to the brace.

  Jake came around the other side of the placid animal. “Tell me where you want it.”

  Emily instructed Jake to hold the brace against Cowlick’s back legs. She connected the chain to the lever on the brace. Emily pumped the lever up and down to take up the slack in the chain until it was taut. She stopped levering and turned to Jake. “Once I start, I’ve got to get it out of there fast. As its chest passes through the birth canal, its lungs are crushed. When the pressure comes off its lungs, the baby takes its first breath. Trouble is, when the chest delivers first, before its head, that breath is taken inside the mother. That means this little baby will be drowning.”