Carried Away by Love

by Vickery, Rebecca J.

  Satisfied all was going well, he reached the foal barn and searched for Skye. The white-faced mare, Cindy Lou, groaned and he heard Skye gentling her with baby-talk.

  "She's late delivering. Going to be a big foal this time," he offered over the Dutch door. "Is she in distress?" Clint opened the stall door all the way back and replaced it with the single chain barrier. He moved closer and began running his hands over the mare's stomach.

  "She's doing okay, but it might be a long labor. The foal only turned a little while ago. And it is big. She may need some help with this one. Isn't that right, Cindy Lou, you poor sweetie?" Without being told, Skye held the mare's halter and talked softly while Clint examined her.

  "I talked to our lawyer. Harold said you should order a full audit of your records from Jenkins, first thing. See exactly what you were paid for jobs and how it was spent – that sort of thing. We need to go to town to sign a paper or two and get that started right away. The longer we wait, the longer Jenkins has to 'cook the books' to suit himself."

  Skye sighed and answered, "Okay. Sounds like a good plan to start with. When can I—?"

  He interrupted, "Already told him to fix up the papers, and we'll drive in this afternoon. Need to get it done before the storm snows us in."

  Biting back a protest at his taking over – after all, it was what she would have done if asked – she wanted to know, "What about Cindy Lou?"

  "I'll tell Charlie to keep a close eye on her. He can deal with her while we're gone. Tom and Mr. Harbin will be around if needed. But experience says Cindy Lou's baby is going to wait until the wee hours of the morning to make an appearance. We'll eat lunch and then head out right after, if that works for you?"

  "Fine, if you're sure. Thank you for getting things started. I didn't know what to do." Skye rubbed the mare's soft nose. "Charlie moved two of the mares with month old foals back to the empty stalls to make more room in the main barn for heavy cows. Should I add those foals back to the handling list?"

  "Yeah, that would be good. Don't want them to forget their lessons. If those calves start dropping, the men are going to have their hands full."

  "You might be glad of this extra pair of hands around here, before it's over with," Skye teased.

  Clint eased up beside her and caught hold of one of her hands. "I'm always glad of these hands around here, sweetheart. Recognize this stall? Every time I come in here, I see you. I think of when we..." He watched her eyes change, saw them soften with desire.

  He couldn't resist lowering his head. Her lips were warm beneath his, then they parted, inviting him to deepen the kiss.

  Skye did remember how it had been between them and she offered up all he asked for, and more. The kiss seemed to go on and on. His arms crept around her and her hands left the mare and clung behind his neck, beneath the collar of his coat.

  The sudden thud of a dropped bucket startled them apart. "How's she doing in there, Miss Skye?" Charlie, the head groom yelled down the center aisle. "Need some help?"

  Laughing, Skye called back, "No thanks, Charlie. She's doing okay for now. I'm moving on to the foals in just a minute." She slid her hands down Clint's coat-covered chest, made sure the clasps were tight, and then put a little space between them.

  "I won't say I'm sorry," Clint said, and smiled at her. "I've wanted to do that for ages. I'd better let Charlie know to watch Cindy Lou."

  "And I better get to work."

  But neither of them moved toward the stall door. Clint pulled her to him for another kiss. She let him have his way for a moment, remembering how often they'd done this before and where it had led, before she pulled away, laughing, and slipped away beneath the chain.

  Her laugh felt like bliss to a weary soul, he decided, as he patted Cindy Lou and left the stall to find Charlie.

  * * * * *

  The larger snowflakes fell faster as Clint carefully steered the SUV into town and parked near the attorney's office. Not hard to believe they would get a foot of snow if this kept falling. He took Skye's elbow and urged her to the office door. They needed to get their business done and head back to the ranch.

  Harold Franklin personally welcomed them and offered coffee. "County's closing the schools a bit early, so Gayle had to leave to pick up the kids. Take off your coats and have a seat. I know you'll be anxious to head back."

  Skye liked this man who, with Clint's guidance, dealt with all the paperwork when her parents died, and then the sale of the house at the edge of town. She answered his questions and filled out some forms. Finally, at Clint's insistence, she described how Artie hit her and the offer he made which caused her to run away with only the money in her pocket and the clothes on her back.

  Harold, as he insisted they call him, took several photos of her face at different angles and had her fill out more forms detailing the incident. When she finished, he stacked the papers and smiled. "I think this should do it for now. You just leave this in my hands, Skye. Let me see what I can do, and we will give you a call next week to set up another appointment."

  As they stood and pulled on their coats, Harold followed them to the front door. "By the way, our daughter Mallie saw your photo in one of her magazines and she's demanding a haircut like yours – and she wants the violet highlights. How long does it take for those to...uhm...fade away?"

  Skye smiled and assured him, "They used the temporary stuff in my hair. It washes out after a couple of shampoos. Please tell her I advise against the permanent dye as it damages the hair too much."

  "Thank you, dear girl, you've eased my mind greatly. I'll tell Gayle, who will also be pleased Mallie can temporarily have what she wants, but we won't have to look at a purple-haired daughter for months to come." Harold laughed and looked out the door at the snow as they left. "I believe I'll lock up soon. Don't want to get stuck here in the office," he called after them.

  Skye waved in response as they hurried to Clint's truck. Clint seemed more concerned with not letting her be blown away by the rising winds.

  The drive back to the ranch required all Clint's attention and Skye strained her eyes to help watch for stranded vehicles, debris blowing into the road, or wandering animals. Even with the windshield wipers going at full speed, and the defroster on high, visibility proved low.

  They were both relieved to see the gateposts for the Sanders Ranch come into view. Suddenly, Clint pointed into the pasture, and said, "Blast it all, the men missed one."

  A curly-coated, red and white Hereford cow stood just within the range of her sight as Skye directed her gaze to where he pointed. The cow turned and Skye saw what looked like blood and fluids on her hind legs. "She's dropped a calf, Clint. She probably hid to have it." As soon as the truck stopped, Sky threw open her door, slid out, and clambered through the fence.

  "Skye, wait!" Dad-gum her stubborn hide! The cow might trample her... Clint grabbed his rifle from behind the seat and ran after Skye, quickly clearing the fence by using the post as leverage. He'd shoot one of his cows before he would let the animal charge Skye.

  But he realized he should have trusted Skye. She'd been on a ranch off and on for most of her life and knew how to deal with this situation. Not her first trip to the rodeo – he thought proudly as he watched.

  As soon as the cow saw Skye and turned to bellow at her, Skye slowed her approach and began talking. "Hi there, Bossy. Where'd you hide that baby of yours? We have to find him or he'll freeze tonight. Come on, Bossy Mama, take me to your baby, there's a sweet girl."

  Clint slowly joined her, slid the rifle behind his shoulder using the sling, and they backtracked the cow's cloven prints to a small clump of brush several yards away. The calf, almost covered in snow, shivered violently, making small grunting sounds.

  Clint jerked off his coat then his thick flannel shirt and handed the shirt to Skye. He hurried back into his coat and flipped the clasps. "Man, it's cold out here. Let's get baby wrapped up and into the truck," he shouted above the sound of the wind.

  Skye alre
ady swiped snow from the calf using her gloved hands, and she wrapped the warm shirt around the large infant as best she could.

  After handing Skye the rifle to carry, Clint hefted the animal up into his arms and walked toward the truck. Skye and the mama followed along, the cow bellowing for her calf at every step.

  "Get the wire-cutters behind the seat. Cut the wire a foot from the post, but watch out, don't let it snap around you," he ordered. They were losing the light fast with the cloudy sky and the snow falling thick around them.

  "I remember. I'll be careful," she yelled. Skye watched Clint brace his back against a post and hold his precious, but heavy, bundle while he waited for her to do what was necessary. These newborn calves, a cross of Hereford and Brahman bred especially for beef and hardiness, could weigh in at over a hundred pounds each. It took a strong man to carry one any distance in good conditions, much less trekking through snow and against the wind.

  Skye fought to cut the wire while standing at an angle where the barbs wouldn't grab her. Thankfully, there were only four strands here to cut. She finished her task and dragged the wire back to the other post where it remained attached, to prevent anyone or anything from becoming tangled for now. Some of the hands would repair it as soon as the weather allowed.

  She climbed into the passenger side after she'd stowed the rifle and wire-cutters. Clint passed her the calf and rolled her window partway down. If the cow could smell the calf, she would follow the truck to the barn.

  "You okay like that?" Clint asked before closing the door. The calf lay across Skye's lap and half of her upper body, almost dwarfing her.

  "I'm good. Let's get this baby to the barn before it pees on me," she yelled, and laughed at the knowledge it might happen at any time.

  "I hear ya," Clint assured her and slammed her door. He went around and slid behind the wheel, and they were off.

  They reversed the process at the barn and Clint carried the calf inside, turning her over to one of the hands. The bellowing mom was quickly coaxed into a stall by the lure of her baby and grain poured in the manger.

  Clint helped Skye through the snow to the back door. They stomped the clinging white flakes off their boots, then shed them and their outerwear just inside the house.

  "I don't know who smells worse," Mr. Harbin said and wrinkled his nose as they walked through the kitchen. "What on earth you been up to?" He poured coffee for Clint and hot cocoa for Skye. "Well, take that on with you. Neither of you can stay here around my cooking 'til you get that off."

  They climbed the steps to the second floor together. At her bedroom door, Clint reminded her, "Don't have the water—"

  "—too hot. You can't tell how hot it really is until you thaw out a bit," she finished for him. "I won't. See you at supper."

  Chapter Five

  Thursday evening, Skye soaked in a warm bubble bath, aching in every muscle, but happier than she'd been in quite a while. The snowstorm kept them all busy checking on the animals, hauling feed, and bringing in cows with newborn calves. She decided there had to be a direct connection between snowfall and the number of calves born. The deeper the snow, the more cows would drop their calves in it – even if they weren't due for weeks.

  And the harder ranch hands worked, the more food and hot drinks they consumed to keep them going. She'd split her time all day between helping to locate new calves and preparing meals and snacks with Mr. Harbin. She worked as part of the team and was treated as such – with respect and appreciation – not like a mannequin with no brain or feelings.

  Cindy Lou delivered a large healthy colt, in the early hours of the morning, just as Clint predicted. A beauty of a quarter horse, he'd be a chestnut with a blonde mane and tail when he lost his wooly baby coat. He already had a white blaze on his face and three white stockings. She handled him off and on all day, every spare minute she could find, and he liked to play with her already.

  Her thoughts drifted again and she remembered tomorrow would be Friday, February 14th – Valentine's Day. Wonder if any of the men are giving a girlfriend something special? Tom has a female friend he 'keeps company with' in town. Charlie will surely give his wife Maria candy and a card, or maybe flowers? Or have they all been so busy, the special day was forgotten? She didn't remember hearing anyone say a word about it.

  Despite her fatigue and sore muscles, Skye rose out of the water before it cooled and dried off. Dressed in clean jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, she headed to the kitchen. She and her mom used to make delicious sugar cookies and she hoped she could remember the recipe. And she had another special surprise in mind, if all the makings could be found in the pantry, and she didn't burn the house down.

  A couple of hours later, exhausted but satisfied, Skye flipped off the light switch and headed to bed. Five o'clock would come awful early in the morning.

  * * * * *

  Danny carried in the eggs from the chicken coop and handed the basket to Skye. He blushed as always, but nodded his head, and offered, "Mornin' ma'am. Watch if you go out by the back door. Ice on the steps."

  "Thank you, Danny. I'll watch it. Do we have any more of those granules to melt it?"

  "I'll check, ma'am. Do it right now."

  He let the back door bang shut and she heard him rummaging around on the back porch.

  "He's got a crush on you, you know?" Mr. Harbin beat the eggs into froth as he waited for the skillet to heat.

  "Danny? He's sweet. We need to find him a girl his own age." She washed the eggs, automatically sorting them by size – large ones for frying and making omelets, smaller ones for use in recipes and scrambling.

  Mr. Harbin stopped and looked at her across the worktable. "He's twenty-three, near the same age as you."

  "Hmm... I guess you're right. But I feel a lot older," she admitted and carried the eggs to the cooler.

  "Guess New York and those types of fancy places age you faster. You done with all that foolishness yet?"

  Skye smiled as she rediscovered Mr. Harbin never let tact or diplomacy stand in the way of getting to something he wanted to know. She was actually surprised he'd let it go this long. "Yes, I think all that's behind me now. Well, it will be as soon as the lawyer helps clear up some loose ends."

  "Good thing, I say. We need you around here. Hand me that bowl, and go call them in for breakfast. These eggs will be done in a jiffy."

  * * * * *

  Skye handed out a coffee-filled thermos and a snack bag to each man after he pulled on his coat and hat and headed for the door. This proved the simplest way to keep them from returning to the kitchen every hour.

  Clint grinned at her, though he looked tired. He'd put in longer hours than all of them. He never asked his hands to do anything he didn't do himself. "Got one of those for me, sweetheart?" He leaned closer to whisper near her ear, "Though, it would be more warming if I came back in an hour or two and we took a nap."

  "Here's your bag and your thermos." She shoved them at him as she felt her entire face grow hot. "Don't you have some cows to punch?" She laughed, and then let him kiss her. Let him? I almost jumped on the poor cowboy, she admitted to herself.

  "Hold that thought, sweetheart. We'll continue this later." He gave her a wide smile and a wink, then left.

  "Looks like things are getting back to normal with you two. I'd almost forgotten how much fun it was to catch you smooching all over the house." Mr. Harbin switched on the dishwasher. "That cake hid in the pantry for personal enjoyment, or for everybody?" he asked.

  "I thought we could serve it after lunch – to sort of remind the guys it's Valentine's Day. And they've worked awful hard the last couple of days and deserve a treat. Will that be all right?"

  "Sure thing. I did let the date slip my mind." Mr. Harbin turned away as the phone rang and went to answer. "Skye, Harold wants to talk to you," he said as he handed her the portable receiver.

  "Cross your fingers it will be good news," she whispered, then spoke into the receiver, "Hi, Harold. Skye here. You have new
s for me?"

  "I just heard from my private investigator in L.A.. Seems Arthur Jenkins has hit a few models other than you and a couple of them are willing to give us depositions against him. They were also cheated out of money they earned. This may take a while, but we should get the audit with no problem. I think when we are through with Artie, he'll want to settle up, rather than go to jail. I'll keep you informed, but knew you would want to know we have a good case against him."

  "Thank you, Harold. I never even thought that if he would do this to me, he's probably done it to others. I know Clint will be pleased. Thank you again, so much – and happy Valentine's Day."

  They made an appointment for the next week and hung up.

  "Good news, I gathered. Now, you got horses to tend and I have to get started on my chores. Scoot!" Mr. Harbin made shooing motions toward the door.

  Skye grabbed her coat and the toboggan. "I'm going, I'm going." She heard the elderly man begin whistling as she closed the door behind her. Funny, but she didn't remember hearing him whistle as he used to – until now.

  She'd almost reached the foal barn when she heard someone call her name. She turned and saw Danny running toward her. He slowed and came to a stop a couple of feet away. He dragged the toe of his boot back and forth through the snow.

  "Hi, Danny."

  "Hi, ma'am...uhm...Miss Skye. Thank you for them special cookies. They tasted like my granny used to make. Happy Valentine's Day. Thanks again, Miss Skye," he yelled, and tipped his hat.

  She watched his face go red. Then he ran off toward the main barn. Well, her heart-shaped cookies with pink sugar sprinkles had been a success with at least one of the hands. But Danny had acted a bit stranger than usual.

  Charlie met her at the barn door, wearing his coat and gloves. "Mornin', Miss Skye. You need to start with Cindy Lou's foal. He's full of himself this morning."

  "I will, Charlie. Where you off to?" Skye unbuttoned her coat and took off her hat. It seemed oddly warm in here today. Maybe they were in for a thaw.