by Lynne Norris
“We had a bull that we bottle fed from the time he was born. He was never aggressive before, but this one day he just came after me so I jumped the fence. I hooked a wire on the way down and it tore me up pretty good.”
“When did that happen?”
“A couple of years ago,” Grace said.
“You needed stitches.”
“I had a few.”
“More than a few I’d guess.” Emma traced the length of the scar with her fingertip.
Grace tilted her head to find Emma’s gaze. Unsuccessful, she reached out and lifted her chin. “Are you okay with this?”
“Hey, did you forget who seduced who here?” Emma sprawled out on top of Grace. She rested the palm of her hand on Grace’s chest and studied her face. “You wouldn’t have kissed me today. Would you?”
“I...probably not.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have great track record with relationships.”
“As if mine is any better. No, there’s something else holding you back.”
Grace was quiet for a moment. “It’s been awhile for me.”
Emma chewed her lip considering what she knew about Grace. “Been awhile for...sex?”
“That and anything resembling a relationship,” Grace said and looked away. “There was someone I was with when I was coaching. I was faithful. She wasn’t. The last year we fought more than we did anything else. When I got accused...she walked, but not before she detailed all my shortcomings—in and out of the bedroom.”
“No, Grace. None of that is true.” Emma kissed Grace in the center of her chest then rested her cheek there. “Do you want to know how I know that?”
“How?” Grace rasped.
“Saturday night. You’re incredibly romantic and you have a need to protect what’s yours. Even though I was scared, I trusted you.”
“Until you came along I convinced myself I was better off being alone.” Grace stroked her fingers through Emma’s hair.
“I get that. Sex is the easy part. It’s everything else about a relationship that’s complicated.” Emma found Grace’s hand and laced their fingers together. “I’m not that girl. Maybe it’s time to let go of those memories and make some new ones.”
“Long past time.” Grace pressed her lips against Emma’s hand. “I’ll be honest. I worry...you’re just getting over a break up,” Grace said.
“True and that scares you. Doesn’t it?”
Grace stared down at their linked hands. “Yeah.”
“I’d be a cheap date,” Emma joked.
Grace’s eyes snapped up to Emma’s and she said, “Don’t say that. I wouldn’t want anything about this to be cheap.”
“Oh, Lord, not only are you incredibly good looking, but you know how to say the kindest things too. That’s a dangerous combination, Grace Moretti.”
“I meant what I said.” Grace traced her thumb across Emma’s cheekbone.
“I believe you.” Emma brought Grace’s hand to her lips and kissed her palm.
“I don’t want this to be the end between us.”
“Then we’ll have to see how we feel after the next time.”
Grace turned to her head to look at Emma. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were sleepy.
“You must have to get back to farm,” Emma said.
“Are you kicking me out?” Grace said half in jest and half seriously.
“Tell me you don’t have a list of things to do.” Emma walked her fingers up Grace’s chest, traced her jawline and ran her fingers through the hair at Grace’s temple.
Grace captured her hand and kissed her palm. “I do have to get back.”
Emma stood from the bed and slipped her shirt over her head. “I know you do.”
Grace propped up on her elbow and studied Emma’s profile. Her nipples strained against the fabric that reached to just above the triangle of hair between her thighs. “You’re beautiful.” Grace reached out pulling Emma back down on the bed. “I wish I could stay.”
“We both know you can’t, so let’s not dwell on it.” Emma gave her a quirky grin. “Thanks for the ride home.”
“Anytime.” Grace slipped her hand around Emma’s neck pulling her closer. She kissed her deeply, exploring with her tongue until Emma gasped and pulled away.
“Stop it. Go now before I tie you to this bed.”
“When can I see you again?” Grace asked sitting up on the bed.
“You could pick me up from the soup kitchen tomorrow if you like. I’ll give you a really good tip.”
Chapter Fifteen
THE FIRST THING Emma noticed when she arrived at the soup kitchen the next day was the heat. She was looking forward to cool conditioned air after walking there.
“This is worse than outside,” Emma announced to Ed when she found him in the kitchen. “What happened to the air conditioner?”
“Gave out. Are you the one who ordered up this Indian summer?” He handed her a stack of plates to carry to the front of the line.
“Not me. Is someone coming to fix it?”
“What?”
“The air conditioner,” Emma said giving him her best “you’re kidding me,” look as Ed tipped his head back and laughed.
“I don’t see anything funny about this at all.”
“Believe me I don’t either.” Ed stirred the pot of soup on the stove. “If I have time at the end of the day I’ll look at it.”
Sweat trickled down Emma’s back as she lifted a stack of bowls over to the counter.
“Don’t you have someone who you can call to repair it?” she called back to him.
“That costs money. We spend our budget on a repair and we have less food to serve to the people who depend on us.”
The temperature grew increasingly oppressive as the cafeteria filled to capacity. Even in the heat people still needed to eat. Tempers were short and it wasn’t long before a scuffle broke out among the patrons.
“Hey! There’s no fighting in here,” Paula shouted from her station and banged her spoon in the edge of the table.
“She cut the line,” several people shouted.
“Ed! We need you out here!” Emma called out as an older woman got pushed to the ground.
“What’s the matter? Oh, for Chrissakes’.” He bulled his way through the crowd maneuvering people out of his way. He hoisted the stunned woman to her feet. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Go sit down. Emma bring her a tray of food so she doesn’t have to stand here.” Furious, Ed blocked the rest of the line from advancing. “One more outburst like that and you’re all out of here. I don’t care who started it.”
The rest of the meal was uneventful and Emma was grateful when it was over. Her phone pinged alerting her that a text had landed in her phone. She finished wiping down her workstation and carried a tray of dirty utensils back to the kitchen. Through the open window she had an unobstructed view into the dining area. Many of the tables were still full as people lingered over their food. Volunteers milled about engaged in idle chatter. Paula was surrounded by her harem—the ladies who thrived on gossip hanging on her every word.
Emma pulled her phone out of her pants pocket and blinked her eyes trying to make sense of the text message on her screen. Her heart rate shot up when she realized it was Tom who had texted her. She read his message again to be sure she understood the words correctly. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she texted him back.
Yes! I can come on Friday. I can be thereby one. I’m honored that you thought of me.
Emma allowed herself a fist pump to celebrate the small victory. She looked up when she heard the rear door bang closed. From her vantage point she watched Paula’s bored expression turn to one of keen interest. A second later, Emma understood why.
Dressed in a t-shirt that sported Moretti’s Farm and CSA on the back, Emma recognized Grace immediately when she strode into view. Paula wasted no time moving in and striking up a conversation with her. She looked like a cat in heat the
way she unabashedly tried to rub up against Grace. Emma tore her eyes away, embarrassed at watching the spectacle that Paula was creating in front of a room full of people. She gathered her shoulder bag, and walked up to Ed, who was standing at the other end of the room.
“I’m going to take off,” Emma told him. “Everything’s stacked by the sink in the kitchen.”
“Great.” Ed folded his arms and furrowed his brow. “Looks like Paula’s set on taking a juicy bite out of Grace.”
“Hmph.” Emma glared across the room at Paula, watching as Grace deftly stepped out of reach. “Excuse me while I extract Grace from her clutches.”
“Be careful. She’ll be sore if she thinks you’re moving in on her territory,” Ed quipped, his lips set in a line as he tried to suppress a smile.
Emma straightened her shoulders and strode over to where Grace was standing. “Fancy meeting you here.”
At the sound of Emma’s voice, Grace turned away from Paula. Her lips curled into a smile and for a moment Emma felt like the rest of the room faded away. “Hi there. You ready to go?”
“More than ready,” Emma said not missing the room falling eerily silent when Grace placed her hand on the small of Emma’s back. Three men dressed in camouflage t-shirts and jeans gaped at them in the same way the women flanking Paula were. All of them, including Paula, were trying to figure out what was going on between Grace and Emma.
Outside, Grace opened the back of the box truck and climbed inside. “I’ve got a dozen or so boxes to bring into the store room. It won’t take me but a few minutes.”
“I’ll help.” Emma tossed her jacket over her handbag in the front seat. The boxes were heavy. She was pleased she could keep up with Grace carrying them from the truck to the kitchen.
When they were done, Grace walked with Emma back to the truck. “I really don’t want you to spend the afternoon repairing the walls at my place.”
“About that. I asked two of the guys who helped me finish my apartment if they would be willing to do the work. All I have to do is call them.”
“You’d have to pay them,” Emma protested.
“We barter our time. It’s no big deal. They owe me some time for work I did in their fields this past spring.”
“That’s time they owe to you, not me. Are you sure?”
Grace moved closer and settled a hand on Emma’s waist. She kissed Emma slow and tender keeping her eyes open. Emma moved against her and Grace pulled back. “Damn sure.”
A few minutes later, after Grace called in her favor, they were heading north for a quick bite to eat before Grace had to get back to the farm. Emma fiddled with the radio and cranked up the volume. When the song finished and commercials filled the airwaves Grace changed the station and lowered the volume. Grace’s phone chirped on her belt.
“Can you answer it for me?” Grace handed Emma her phone.
Emma listened for a moment. “It’s Michael. He said the cow is in labor.”
“What? I checked her before I left.” Grace gave Emma an apologetic look. “Sorry. This is going to interrupt our plans, but I have to go back.”
Fighting back a surge of disappointment Emma said, “It’s no problem.”
“I can drop you off at your place if you like.” Grace maneuvered over to the right-hand lane to get off at the next exit.
“No. I want to come with you.”
“It might be a long haul depending on where she’s at.”
“I’ve never seen a birth before. I’d like to be there,” Emma insisted.
“Ok, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
When Grace pulled into the drive by the barn. Michael was loping toward her waving his hat. “I think we may need to call the vet.”
“What’s wrong?” Grace climbed out of the cab.
“I see the amniotic sac but no calf.”
“Crap.” Grace exchanged a worried glance with Emma.
“That’s bad?” Emma asked.
“Very. You have Nick’s number on your phone?” Grace asked Michael as she started toward the barn.
“Got it.”
“Call him now. Bring the calf jack and the obs chain so we have them for when he gets here.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Emma said trotting after Grace.
“You’ll want these,” Grace said handing Emma a pair of rubber boots to pull on over her shoes. Grace skipped her boots and hurried out to the paddock.
Emma had no idea what was going on, but from the grim expression on Grace’s face when she caught up to her she was sure it wasn’t good news. Michael met them out in the field carrying a device that looked like a medieval torture contraption.
“He said he’d be here ASAP.”
“That means thirty minutes if he lead foots it,” Grace lamented.
“Thirty minutes?” Emma exclaimed.
“He lives that far away and then there’s traffic even on the back roads here.”
“Does she have a name?” Emma asked.
Grace scratched her head and nodded sheepishly. “Annabelle.” She held an arm out and nudged Emma back as the cow climbed to her feet. The water bag began to leak and Annabelle started to look for her calf.
“I take it this isn’t normal,” Emma said.
Grace shook her head. “It would be normal if there was a calf being born with it. Do you see those spots on the sac? That’s where the placenta attaches to the sac.”
Emma was heartsick knowing that the calf that should have been coming out with the amniotic sac was most likely dead.
“She seemed fine when I checked her before I left today,” Grace said.
“Nothing looked out of the ordinary to me,” Michael concurred.
There was a collective sigh of relief when the vet arrived thirty minutes later. Stress warped Emma’s perception of time making it seem like it took hours and seconds all at the same time.
Nick was a broad-shouldered man with a mass of blond curls that were pulled back into a ponytail. He reminded Emma of Samson from the Old Testament.
“Let’s see what we have here,” Nick said as he started his exam. “I feel a calf in the proper position, but she’s not moving away from my touch.”
Grace hung her head. “Dead.”
“That explains the amniotic fluid presenting before the calf,” Michael added.
“Let’s get the calf pulled out and make sure mom is okay.” Nick secured the obs chain and the calf jack. Over the course of the next ten minutes he proceeded to pull the calf out.
Emma stood back watching with a lump in her throat. She fought back tears when Grace knelt and tried to revive the calf pumping on its chest. No amount of reviving did any good and Grace stopped when Nick touched her shoulder.
“Let Annabelle tend to her, Grace. I’m concerned about how lopsided she still is. It could be a ruptured tendon or she could be carrying another calf.”
“You think she could have twins?”
Nick’s hunch proved right. “Mom’s carrying a second calf. I feel the sac and the placenta. It’s intact but she presenting back feet first.”
“Not good,” Grace steadied Annabelle while Nick attached the ob chains to the second calf and positioned the calf jack.
Grace let go while Nick pulled in case Annabelle lost her balance and fell. “How’s the calf?” Grace asked anxiously.
Emma thought she saw a slight movement like a blink of an eye. She wondered if she were just wishing for it to be true. Grace came around Annabelle. “He’s trying to breathe but his lungs are filled with the amniotic fluid.”
Nick handed the jack to Michael. He pulled the sac away and wiped as much of the fluid from the calf’s nostrils as he could. “Let him hang upside down awhile to drain more fluid.”
A few minutes later the calf was lying on its side with its front legs curled up beneath it looking like a drowned rat. Annabelle hovered over her baby licking and nudging it to stand up.
Grace settled up with Nick and got the in
structions for aftercare. “You know the routine,” Nick said. “Make sure the calf gets colostrum, keep an eye on the umbilical and watch for milk fever and uterine fever. If you notice anything out of the ordinary call me.”
“You know I will.” Grace shook his hand.
Mike and Nick collected the dead baby calf in a wagon and wheeled it off to Nick’s truck.
“You doing okay over there?” Grace looked up at Emma as she tended to the area where the umbilical cord used to be attached to the calf’s belly.
“What do we do now?”
“First we try to get this little guy to nurse. If he’s too weak I’ll milk Annabelle and bottle feed him.”
The little calf ended up being too weak. He tried to get his hind legs to cooperate, but every time he tried to stand he wobbled and fell back down. Annabelle hovered over her babe, oblivious to Grace milking her.
“Want to try?” Grace motioned Emma over and traded places with her. With her hand over Emma’s she squeezed the teat and milk squirted into the bucket.
“I can’t believe I’m milking a cow,” Emma said as Grace stepped back keeping a close eye on Annabelle. When they emptied each teat into the bucket, Grace poured the milk into an oversized bottle.
“Let’s see if we can get some of this milk into him before the skies open on us. Hold this.” Grace gave Emma a quart size bottle and poured milk into it. “I’ll try and get him to stand and you can give him the bottle.”
Grace lifted the newborn calf from around his chest and hindquarters onto his wobbly legs.
“Do I just put it in his mouth?” Emma asked holding the bottle in front of her.
“Just like feeding a baby. Go ahead. He’ll do the rest.”
“Oh,” Emma said widening her stance when the calf took the nipple and started sucking. “He’s strong.”
“I’d guess he’s close to sixty-five pounds,” Grace said.
“At birth? And the mom was carrying two.”
“It’s unusual for a cow to have more than one calf. That’s probably why only one survived,” Grace said.
The slurping continued until the calf drained the bottle.
“Should we give him more now?” Emma asked scratching between the animal’s ears as she extracted the empty bottle from his mouth.