Jeremy’s eyebrows shot up beneath the brim of his hat.
She smiled. So the cowboy had been sure she was going to throw a prima donna fit. She could already tell he was going to have to work on not stereotyping her.
Two hours later, bouncing along a dirt path between Jeremy and Aaron in the old farm truck, she stared at the pages of scrawled notes. “There’s more to this than I remembered.”
Aaron clutched the steering wheel as the truck hit old ruts and tried to swerve to the side. “You can do it.”
On the other side of her, Jeremy frowned. “If you don’t think you can handle it...”
For a second, the temptation to give up before she started was overwhelming. He was obviously offering to let her off the hook and take the job himself. How easy it would be just to say, “You know what? I don’t think I can.” She could be on her way back to New York by this afternoon.
No more worries about staying in the big house with only memories for companionship after her parents and Aaron and Bree left tomorrow. No more concern that she might not be able to make herself go back to the city when this was over. No more trying to convince a cowboy that she could run a ranch.
“I can handle it,” she said softly then tossed him a saucy grin for good measure. “After all, I’ve got you for the first week at least to keep me in line.”
CHAPTER 7
Aaron slowed at a red metal gate, and Jeremy jumped out before they came to a stop.
Crystal watched the cowboy effortlessly yank the big gate open then felt Aaron’s gaze on her.
“No fair flirting just to annoy him, Crys.”
She laughed. “That wasn’t flirting, big brother. That was teasing.”
“Just remember, he’s not your brother. And in spite of what I told you in the barn, he might think more of it than you mean.”
How ironic that she was receiving this lecture. She’d heard Cami get it so many times but never dreamed it would ever be directed toward her. “I’m just trying to be a good sport.”
Aaron nodded. “Fine. But be careful. Jeremy’s been through enough. And for that matter, so have you. I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”
She watched the cowboy walking back to the truck. “I’d say it’s too late for that.”
“Let me rephrase then. I don’t want either of you to hurt the other.”
Jeremy climbed into the truck, effectively ending their private conversation.
Crystal quietly took notes the rest of the time.
When they parked in front of the barn and climbed out of the truck, Jeremy turned to face her. “Since you’ll be pulling airport shuttle duty, want me to meet the hands in the morning and give them their schedule?”
She nodded. “If you can take care of tomorrow, I’ll be ready to work bright and early on Wednesday.”
“You can count on it.” He flipped his phone open. “Do you mind giving me your phone number and taking mine? Just in case you need me, or vice versa?”
As she retrieved her phone from her back pocket and they exchanged numbers, she was struck by how quickly she’d accepted the thought that she might need to call him. He had a way of fostering confidence. Sort of like Brad had. Only she had a feeling that if Tina could meet the cowboy, she’d find there was nothing Ken-like, nothing plastic, about Jeremy Buchanan.
***
“Now that we’ve exhausted all the boring details of my life and we’re almost back home, let’s move on to something more interesting.” Elyse kept a tight grip on the steering wheel, but she glanced over at Crystal. “What’s been happening with you?”
Crystal sighed. “Well, I told you the play closed. And my agent had a meltdown when I told her I was taking some time off.”
“Aw, Crys. I’m sorry.”
“That’s life. I’m actually looking forward to a little break from the city.” She stared out the window at the budding trees, growing thicker by the mile, as they left the Memphis airport far behind and got closer to home. “As long as I’m sure I’m going back.”
Elyse glanced at her. “Daddy and Mama didn’t look like they were harboring any secret plans to run away forever when we left them at the airport, did they?”
Crystal grinned. “Not that I could tell.”
“So you’ll be going back in six weeks.”
“Right.” Why wasn’t Crystal that sure? She couldn’t wait to get back to the theater life, but she felt tired every time she thought of facing the auditions and callbacks.
“Am I right in assuming you and Brad are history?”
“Definitely history,” Crystal said, almost feeling bad by the lack of any residual feeling for Brad. Even when she’d gone back to New York last week to get her stuff, she’d had no desire to see him, but at the same time no flutter of anxiety that she might run into him when she’d gone to their old haunts.
She turned to stare out the window again. Was her heart defective? Maybe she would never love a man enough to really care that he was gone.
Elyse put her turn signal on and leaned forward to check for oncoming traffic. “Wanna talk about it?”
Crystal shook her head. “Not really. He wasn’t what I thought he was. The end.”
“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” Elyse said. “Isn’t that what we always said when some guy in junior high or high school turned out to be a jerk?”
“Yep. And that about sums it up still. Some things never change.” She sighed. “And some things change too much.”
Elyse glanced across at her. “Worried about spending nights at the house?”
“Who, me? Worry?” Crystal couldn’t believe the quaver in her voice.
As they turned off the highway onto the gravel road, Elyse cleared her throat. “You know you’re welcome to keep staying with me.”
Crystal nodded. “I know. But Mama really wants someone in the house while they’re gone.”
“Do you want me to stay there and you bunk at my place? Who would know?”
A smile tilted Crystal’s lips. “That’s incredibly nice. But I’d know. And Luke would know. And your newest family member would definitely know. She tolerates me, but if you weren’t there, she’d go berserk.”
“Can you do it?”
Crystal considered her sister’s question carefully. She hadn’t spent a night in the house since Cami died. At first, she’d escaped to the barn loft apartment. Then despite what she’d claimed to her mom about just following through with plans, for all intents and purposes, she’d run away to New York. “I can sleep on the couch. As long as I don’t have to go in our room.”
“I don’t see why you should have to.”
“Is it still the same?”
Elyse glanced over at her. “What?”
“The room. Did anyone clean it out?”
Elyse shook her head. “Mama said you’d do it when you were ready.”
“Hmph. I’m never going to be ready.”
“Never is a long time,” Elyse said.
***
The cow bawled again pitifully and thrashed around on the grass.
Jeremy groaned, too. When he’d happened upon the cow in the process of giving birth, he hadn’t been worried. There’d be hundreds of calves born this spring on the ranch. But there’d be one less if things didn’t turn around soon for this one.
He knelt down beside the laboring cow. “Hang in there, little mama. We’ll get some help.” He snagged the phone from his back pocket.
Nacho whinnied.
“If this were the Old West, I’d send you back to the ranch for help,” Jeremy muttered to the horse. He skimmed through his address book. How had he ended up not getting any of the McCord employees’ numbers? In the last ten months, he’d gotten so distracted, it was a wonder he could run his own cattle-less ranch, much less help anyone else. At least he had thought to exchange numbers with Crystal. He scrolled down to her name and hit SEND.
“Hello?”
“Crystal, it’s Jeremy. Are you home from the airpor
t yet?”
“We just drove in. What’s up?”
“We’ve got a cow birthing about half a mile from the house right next to the old caverns. She’s having a hard time. Do you have Slim’s number?”
Silence. “Slim doesn’t have a phone, actually. I have Joe’s and Mike’s, but they’re all working out by the Dewey place. What do you need?”
“Someone to call the vet.” He glanced back at the cow, thrashing around and trying to get to her feet. “And in the meantime, another pair of hands. She’s already delivered the water bag, but I’m afraid the calf’s stuck.”
“I’ll call Doc Johnson, throw on some jeans, and be right there.” She hung up before he could say anything.
Ten minutes later, a huge cloud of dust on the horizon caught his attention. Within seconds, the old farm truck emerged from the grayness, careening wildly across the pasture. He pushed to his feet and took Nacho’s reins in his hand. The horse was trained not to bolt, but at the speed that truck was coming, all bets were off. “Whoa, brother,” he whispered softly. “She’s in a hurry.”
He had to give her credit for slowing down before she got close to the cow, coasting to a stop fifty feet away.
She dragged an old brown leather bag out of the truck and took off toward him at a run. “How is she?”
“Hanging in there. But no real progress. Is the vet on the way?”
Her delicate shoulders lifted as she led the way toward the cow.
“He was out of the office. I left the information with his emergency service.”
He frowned at her jeans, designer unless he missed his guess, and her stylish white button-down shirt. Had he sounded that panicked on the phone? “I could have waited for you to change clothes.”
She grimaced. “I did. My wardrobe is a little limited these days.” She squatted down and touched the cow’s swollen belly.
“You look great. I just hate to see expensive clothes get ruined.”
“I gave twenty dollars for the pants, but you’re right, they were two hundred originally. Don’t worry, I shop in thrift stores.” She winked. “I’m an expert at good deals.” She rubbed her hand gently across the cow’s abdomen.
He grinned. “Smart woman. Does your expertise extend to birthing calves?”
Before she could answer, the cow bellowed loudly. They both jumped back as she struggled to her feet.
“Good for you,” Crystal murmured, patting her flank. “You’re a fighter, aren’t you, gal?”
He nodded toward the brown duffel bag sitting on the ground. “What’s in there?”
“You’re looking at the official McCord calf-birthing kit. Handed down through the generations.” Her blue eyes danced.
“You’re kidding.”
“Yeah, I am. I just stuck some stuff in here when you called.” She opened the satchel, took out a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and poured it on her hands, working it up to her elbows. “But the lighter we can keep things, the more relaxed we’ll be. And the more relaxed we are, the more relaxed she’ll be.” She handed him the bottle.
He glanced over at her as he washed his own hands. “You learn that from your sister? Assuming cows and dogs have the same rules?”
For a moment, he was struck again by the absurdity of this pint-sized beautiful blond taking the whole situation in stride. Her hair looked like she’d just stepped out of an upscale salon. Her face was flawless, but there was a determined set to her chin he’d never noticed before.
“No, I learned that from Daddy. And Elyse would tell you, cows and dogs definitely don’t have the same rules.” She retrieved a package from the bag, ripped it open, and handed him a pair of rubber gloves.
His eyebrows shot up, but he took them. “I’m guessing you were a girl scout?”
“Nope.” She slid her own gloves on with a snap. “Farm girl.”
He nodded slowly. He was right. There was definitely more to Crystal McCord than met the eye.
“Which end do you want?” she asked.
“You’re doing a good job of keeping her calm. If you’ll keep doing that, I’ll see what I can do to help her.”
She nodded.
“C’mon, Bess,” he whispered to the cow. “You can do it.”
“Bess? Seriously?”
He glanced around the cow toward Crystal. “What’s wrong with that?”
She had her back to him, but her shoulders lifted. “My granny’s name was Bess. She always said it showed lack of imagination that every man in the country had to call a cow by her name.”
“Excuse me.” He patted the cow again. “C’mon, Anastasia. Let’s get this baby out.”
Crystal had her back to him, but he was pretty sure the muffled sound he heard was a snicker.
Twenty minutes later, with hardly any progress, all mirth was gone.
“What do you think?” Crystal murmured.
“I think you’re as good with cows as your sister is with dogs. At least she’s staying calm. Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Jeremy tensed his shoulder muscles and released them then flexed his neck. Sweat trickled down between his shoulder blades. “The calf seems to be caught. I’m doing what I can, but if it doesn’t come soon, we’re going to have to try pulling it. So pray.”
“Let me know if I need to get the ropes from the truck.” He couldn’t see her face, but her voice sounded strained.
Since he’d started ranching, he’d seen his share of death, but this little life they were fighting to save had become intensely important to him in the last hour. Maybe after the heartache of the past several months, he just needed to see faith and hope rewarded.
“Please,” he whispered. A minute later, he felt movement beneath his hands. “It’s coming,” he said and suddenly Crystal was beside him guiding the slippery calf to the ground.
The cow turned her wild-eyed glance toward the bundle on the ground. Jeremy and Crystal stripped their gloves off and watched in silence as Anastasia took care of her tan and white baby.
“How can anyone see this and claim there is no God?” he asked quietly, swallowing against the lump of emotion in his throat.
She shook her head, and he thought he saw a hint of moisture in her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“You okay?”
She nodded. “I’m just so glad it all worked out. I was pretty nervous.”
No wonder she’d gone into acting. “You deserve an Academy Award then, because you sure didn’t seem like it.” He smiled at her. “And you handled Anastasia like a pro.”
“Nice name, by the way. Granny would have been proud of you.” She pushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “I was always the tomboy who followed Daddy around like a shadow. I’ve helped on more births than I can count. But it’s been awhile.” She sank down on the grassy hillside.
The Reluctant Cowgirl Page 7