Picture Perfect Wedding

by Fiona Lowe

“We’ll be gone for the night,” John interrupted, “and I’m sure the chief understands about sacrifice for the greater good.”

  Tony stood up, his expression neutral but his eyes had narrowed into tense slits. “If it’s that important, John, I’ll leave you both to get the job done. Good night, Nicole.”

  The relaxed and easy rapport they’d shared froze like the lake in winter and then cracked, making the distance between them wider than ever before.

  She wanted to snatch back what they’d had, keep it warm, dry and alive, but she could see in his eyes it had died. Trying hard not to bite her lip, she gave him a mouthed I’m sorry, a nod goodbye and trudged after John, exiting the restaurant with resentment and disappointment curdling her gut. Why had John chosen that precise moment to interrupt their evening when it had been going so well?

  Tonight had been all about Tony seeing her as a woman—not a widow, or Max’s mom, or the town’s hairdresser and wedding planner, but a desirable woman who was really attracted to him. None of that had happened or if it had, it had been cut short so fast she wasn’t sure he’d even noticed her missing wedding band.

  John opened the door for her and she stepped through, stopping abruptly as the thought struck her. She knew what she had to do. “John, I just have to text Max good-night.”

  John smiled. “Of course. Say good-night to him from his uncle John.”

  She gave a sharp nod and brought up a new message, attached the number and tapped out, Erin, book me in for those photos ASAP. Nic x

  * * *

  Erin had fallen into bed at midnight, exhausted after a long wedding shoot. She’d been vaguely aware of Luke getting into bed a little while later and pulling her close. His warmth and the security of his arms wrapped around her had sent her into a deep and delicious sleep. Now coolness pooled at her lower back and she stretched out her arm, feeling for the heat bank that was Luke. She touched an empty space. Rolling over, she squinted into the dark and could just make out his bulk sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Luke?”

  “Shh, go back to sleep.” He kissed her forehead and tucked the quilt around her.

  She finally managed to focus on the clock. 3:10. “Where are you going?”

  “To deliver a calf.”

  She turned on the light and threw off the quilt. “Can I come?”

  Surprise flitted across his face. “Ah, sure, if you want but I’m warning you, it’s messy and bloody.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I think I can cope. Besides, we can shower together after.”

  He grinned at her with the wicked twinkle she loved so much. “Definitely come then.”

  Maggie-May and Mac looked up expectantly and Erin stifled a smile. “Exactly how did these dogs end up sleeping at the foot of the bed?”

  “That mutt of yours is leading Mac astray,” Luke said without heat and threw her hoodie and jeans at her.

  They took the four-wheeler as the cottage wasn’t as conveniently positioned to the barn as the farm house and five minutes later she was surrounded by pregnant cows and the sound of low mooing. While Luke put the laboring cow in the headlock, she asked, “Do you have to help every cow?”

  He shook his head. “No. Ninety percent do it all on their own. This is Essie’s first calf and she’s been in labor too long so I’m going to give her a helping hand.”

  Erin saw the chains he’d put down next to a bucket of soapy water. “Chains?” The word came out on a squeak as her girly parts flinched on behalf of the cow.

  “Bovine obstetrics is fairly basic.” He washed the cow’s rear and then pulled on a long glove that went the length of his arm. “I’m going to sleeve her and check the lie of the calf first.”

  “Can I take photos?”

  “Sure.”

  He covered the glove in lubricant and talked to the cow in a soothing tone before holding the tail up high and inserting his arm up to his shoulder. His brow creased in concentration and he staggered slightly as the cow moved back against him.

  “Problem?”

  “No. The calf’s in the right position but just like humans, sometimes the first birth is longer and harder than subsequent ones. The calf’s not overly big so that’s a good thing.” As he removed his hand, two hooves appeared and then slipped back inside. His gaze hooked hers, filled with questions and overlaid with doubt. “How’s your brute strength?”

  “Pretty good. I lift weights in the gym and lug heavy photographic equipment, why?”

  “I need your help to pull out the calf.”

  The whole idea of the chains slightly horrified her but if Luke needed her help she was up for the task. “O-kay.”

  He didn’t mention her queasiness but set about slipping the chains around the calf’s fetlocks. His every action said this was a man who was confident in his work and knew exactly what he was doing. She recorded it all in a series of shots.

  “Time to put down the camera.” He handed her the triangular handles of the obstetric chains. “This is going to be hard because there’s nothing to brace yourself against so spread your feet wide and bend your knees so you can get some traction.”

  “When do I pull?”

  “When I say. See how there’s one leg out farther than the other? This means elbow lock.”

  That didn’t sound good. “Cows have elbows? Who knew.”

  “You’re going to pull on the affected limb while I push the calf back to unlock it.” His hand was back in the cow, checking the position. “Erin, pull now.”

  “On it.” She hauled back, feeling like her shoulders were going to pop out of their sockets and she could only imagine what it must feel like for the cow. She really wasn’t certain she was achieving much at all and it made her gym work seem vanilla and safe.

  “Stop pulling. Good work, the legs are now even.”

  Panting like she’d run a marathon, every muscle in her arms threatened to explode from lack of oxygen but she was excited that she’d been able to help. “This is a good thing, right?”

  “Yep. It’s all straightforward from here. I’ll take over now.” He dropped to his haunches, his arm muscles straining, and he pulled.

  More of the legs appeared and suddenly she could see the calf’s head and lolling tongue. The cow stopped straining and the calf retreated slightly.

  Relieved of her job, she grabbed her camera, keen to record the moment the calf was born.

  “Not. Long. Now.” Luke paused in his efforts. The black-and-white body of the calf was half out of the vagina and he quickly inserted his hand inside the cow again.

  She bit her lip. “Should it just hang like that?”

  “It’s fine. Humans do this too although not from this height.”

  “That’s more information than I needed to know.”

  He laughed. “That’s such a city thing to say. This is animal husbandry. Okay, get ready with that camera ’cause this calf’s coming out.”

  He gave one last mighty pull and a gush of fluid squirted everywhere. The next moment, the calf was on the straw with the remains of the amniotic sac clinging to its rump and its white patches stained pink with blood. Its huge brown eyes blinked as if to say how did I get here?

  A lump formed in Erin’s throat. It was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen.

  Luke quickly rubbed the calf’s belly, wiped its mouth and then lifted the top rear leg to check the sex. “Score. We have another milker. Welcome to the world, young lady.”

  Erin was torn between just watching him and photographing the event and her camera hung from her hand. For the first time in a long time she experienced something special though her own eyes, rather than through the lens of a camera. “That was incredible.”

  Luke’s smile was wide, genuine and filled with happiness. “Yeah, it is.”

 
He stripped off his glove, grabbed her hand and as they moved back out of the way, the cow started to lick her calf clean. They sat down on bailed hay to watch.

  “She might have had a tough first birth but she knows what to do,” Luke said proudly, as if the cow and the calf were related to him. “Watching the first few minutes of life of a new calf is one part of the job that never gets old.”

  She thought about his grumpy moments. “So what does get old?”

  He shrugged. “Most everything.”

  She felt inexplicably sad for him. She loved being a photographer and she couldn’t imagine spending her days doing something she wasn’t passionate about. “So why are you farming if it doesn’t float your boat?”

  He slowly stripped a piece of hay into thin lengths. “That’s the question I’ve been asking myself for months.”

  “Did something change?”

  He tossed the straw away and sighed. “This is going to sound crazy...”

  “Try me. It probably won’t sound crazy at all.” She elbowed him gently in the ribs. “And you know me, I’ll tell you if it is.”

  He gave a wry smile but kept his gaze fixed on the calf, watching it struggle to rise to her feet only to fall back when its wobbly legs let her down. “As a kid I dreamed of taking over, and farming is all I can ever remember wanting to do. During the two years I worked alongside Dad as part of the handover process, I was quietly going crazy as he blocked every suggestion I made. I found myself counting down the days until he retired and I was the boss and could run things my way. The moment he and Mom left for Arizona, I started implementing changes.”

  She thought about the photo she’d taken of him holding soil in his hand and staring across the fields. “That makes sense. You wanted to put the Luke Anderson stamp on the farm just like I put the Erin Davis touch on my photos.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “All I’ve done is make the parlor more efficient so milking is faster and I’m working on a higher fat content in the milk by experimenting with different feed.”

  All I’ve done? “I know nothing about farming but they sound like improvements. What else do you want to try?”

  He huffed out a breath. “That’s the thing. Dad was a good farmer. When he took over from my grandfather, the farm was a lot smaller than it is now. He basically doubled the size of it in twenty years, making it one of the most successful farms in the district.”

  “Are you saying there’s nothing else you need to do?”

  “It ticks over pretty good. Some seasons are better than others and the price of milk goes up and down but yeah...”

  Under the artificial lights of the barn, she saw the aura of discontent she’d glimpsed at the picnic and the haggardness of stress. She wondered about this intelligent, hardworking man. “So you’ve inherited a well-run, profitable farm?”

  “Yep.”

  “And it’s making you miserable?” She tried hard to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

  His blue eyes filled with bewildered pain. “I told you it was crazy.”

  She thought about how much she craved to have an established and solid business, and part of her wanted to say, Do you know how lucky you are? Only she could see in the lines around his eyes and the set of his mouth that he knew he was fortunate indeed and that he was at war with that very thing. “Can you picture yourself doing anything other than farming?”

  Luke heard the question which was identical to the one he’d been asking himself for weeks. “No. That’s what sucks because technically I’m doing what I want to do, only every day is like dragging myself through mud. I’ve got no clue what I’d do if I left the farm and me leaving impacts on the entire family. Keri wants us to sell up so she can take the money for her kids’ college fund and she’s putting the pressure on. Wade and Dad will do everything in their power to prevent a sale and will never talk to me again if I force the issue. Every time I try to have a sensible discussion with any of them it gets heated and ends with someone stomping off.”

  “I gathered something was going on. The picnic wasn’t without some tension.” She gave him a contemplative look. “How about we forget your family for the moment and take a look at you. When you think about your future, what do you see?”

  His usually square shoulders slumped. “I alternate between the farm and a big black hole.”

  “What else can you farm here besides cows?”

  “I can’t destroy a successful dairy, Erin.” He dropped her hand wondering why he’d even thought an urbanite might understand.

  Her green eyes flashed at him. “I wasn’t suggesting that you do but I think you need your own project.”

  She had no clue and didn’t understand. “The farm is a full-time project.”

  “I’m aware of that but the way I understand it is that you’ve tweaked your father’s farming techniques. I don’t think that’s enough for you. Think about it. Your dad took over from his dad and doubled the size of the farm.”

  The idea of doing the same was like a millstone dragging at his neck. “We don’t need to get any bigger.”

  Her hands turned palm up. “So diversify. Although the bulk of my business is wedding photos, I also do family portraits and some boudoir photography.”

  “Boudoir?” He pulled her close, happy to think about anything else but the farm and he buried his face in her hair. “Do you have photos of yourself?”

  She planted her palms against his chest and raised her gaze to him. “Don’t even think about getting off topic. We’re talking about you.”

  His jaw got tight. “I think we’re done now.”

  “Luke.” She poked him in the chest with a manicured nail. “You need to find something in farming that lights a fire in your belly. A challenge. Something new that’s totally yours.”

  Her words rained down on him, adding to the swirling mess of emotions that had become part of him. As much as he wanted to reject her suggestion out of hand, he couldn’t. Was she close to the crux of his problem? He plowed his hand through his hair, not certain about anything. He ran an efficient and productive farm and as that was the goal of every farmer it should be making him ecstatic. If that wasn’t enough to make him happy, then what the hell would it take?

  The calf finally got her legs to work and she wobbled to her feet, looking around for her mother’s udder and that first taste of colostrum, rich in all the good things she’d need before she could enjoy the sweet taste of creamy milk.

  He pulled Erin to her feet. “Come on. We’ve got work to do. This calf needs to be put in her own hutch, given some oral antibiotics and then fed her mother’s colostrum from a bottle. It’s a busy first hour of a calf’s life and there’re lots more photos for you to take.”

  Hopeful expectation danced on Erin’s cheeks. “Can I give her the bottle?”

  “Sure, if you want to.”

  She continued to surprise him. He’d appreciated the fact she’d offered to get up in the middle of the night and that she hadn’t blinked when he’d asked her to help with the delivery, but he’d expected her to have had enough by now. “You can milk Essie too if you like.”

  She shuddered. “I think I’ll just stick to feeding the calf.”

  Laughing at her expected response, he pulled her into his arms. “Wimp.”

  “Slave driver.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers because as much fun as it was teasing her, kissing her was so much better. He loved the way she relaxed against him the moment his lips touched hers.

  Essie mooed and he reluctantly pulled back from Erin and got back to work. Together they herded the calf into her hutch before he returned to milk Essie. “I guess you know that Nicole’s requested a hay wagon for this damn wedding.”

  “It will make great photos,” she said from behind her camera.

  He’d kn
own she’d say that. “The wagon hasn’t been used for a while so I’m hitching it up to make sure everything works. It’s bad enough the wedding is taking place here. No way in hell am I risking a Bridezilla meltdown.”

  Erin lowered her camera with a long, weary sigh. “She’s not Bridezilla.”

  Luke was staring to think Erin had tunnel vision when it came to Connie Littlejohn. He was pretty certain Nicole had the bride’s number because she’d taken to sending him one email a day with bullet-point questions which always started with, Sorry, Luke, but... He forwarded them straight to Wade. If Wade wanted this wedding to take place on the farm so badly then he could deal with the headache that was Miz Littlejohn.

  However, Luke had agreed in a curt conversation with his brother to sort out the wagon. “Wade wants to give the kids a bonfire so I thought you and I could drive them there on the wagon and test it at the same time.”

  She tilted her head, watching him closely, and he could see the cogs of her mind at work. As he waited for her to reply, a sudden rush of anxiety filled his gut with acid. He instantly tried to shake off the ridiculous feelings. What the hell was there to be anxious about? It was a hayride and it made no difference if she came along or not.

  You’ll be disappointed if she doesn’t come.

  He refused to acknowledge that. What he shared with Erin was what he shared with all women—causal, easy and fun with no strings or expectations. The farm tied him down enough without adding in the complications of a serious relationship.

  Her eyes danced and enthusiasm raced across her cheeks. “That sounds like fun.”

  The tightness in his gut relaxed.

  That shocked him even more.

  Chapter Fifteen

  From her position on the hay wagon, Erin stared up into the clear night sky and listened to the rhythmic clip clop of the horse’s hooves against the farm road. They were on their way to meet Wade, Keri and Phil at the bonfire. Up front, Luke was using an app on his phone and pointing out the different constellations to Grace and Ethan. A few minutes prior, Luke had been alternating between kissing her in the shadows and showing her the stars, taking advantage of a few quiet moments while the kids and the dogs raced ahead chasing fireflies.