by Annie Evans
Bellamy pulled her right hand free of his and slid it around the back of his neck, tunneling her fingers through the soft chestnut hair curling over his collar. He now had two hands to use, and he did, brushing his palm down her rib cage then back up her spine to ease under the fall of her hair between her shoulder blades.
Funny how she hadn’t given much thought to the letter in her back pocket since she’d met him.
Her immediate future was not what she’d dreamt it to be. Busting her ass to make good grades through high school and college, the struggle to get into vet school, all the personal sacrifices she’d made, the impressive reference letters from the practice where she’d interned—none of it carried the weight she’d hoped it would. Accolades didn’t automatically translate into wish fulfillment. Another hard reality lesson learned in adulthood.
Georgia was where she wanted to stay, even though most of her family had been bitten by the travel bug. So she’d file her frustrations away, along with that letter from Roger Clay, and suck it up. Get some in-the-field experience and revisit the job search later. Running her uncle’s practice would be nothing if not grassroots. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t even employ a secretary. Bellamy would be doing everything from scheduling appointments to paying the bills. On the plus side, he didn’t have an actual office anymore, so she wouldn’t have that tedious aspect to maintain.
Eli tangled his fingers in her hair and gave a painless tug, forcing her to look up at him. Reminding her that she was in the arms of the most attractive man she’d ever met. His sexy smile had disappeared. “I lost you, didn’t I? You went back to whatever sent you after that bottle in the first place.”
The honest concern beneath his words prompted her to say, “I’m sorry, Eli.”
They stopped moving, but his hold on her didn’t lessen the slightest bit. If anything, he might’ve held her just a little tighter. “No need to apologize, sugar. I’m willing to listen if you need to talk, though.”
The offer to unload was tempting, but not nearly enough to overtake desire. Bellamy moved her hand to his jaw, brushed her thumb across his full lower lip, wondering how it would taste. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”
“Okay. But I need you to tell me one thing first.”
She knew without him having to ask the question. And she should’ve made something else up, something normal and indistinct, a pseudonym to hide behind. But she didn’t.
“It’s Bellamy.”
She watched his lips move as he repeated the word on a whisper, then he lowered his mouth to hers and she went to a place where disappointment and broken dreams were not welcome.
* * * * *
The blare of a car horn outside the motel room window made Bellamy jerk upright in bed. Clutching the sheet to her chest, heart racing, she shoved her tangled hair out of her face and took stock of her surroundings while her heartbeat slowed.
She was naked beneath the covers. Her discarded clothing lay strewn across the carpeted floor, three empty condom wrappers on the nightstand—and next to her, the bed was unoccupied. Had it not been for the foil packets, the lingering scent of sex on the sheets and the tenderness between her thighs, she would’ve thought she’d dreamt the whole damn thing.
Not a trace of Eli remained anywhere to be found.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The skin between her breasts was pink with beard abrasion. Between her legs too, and there was a small bruised spot high on the inside of her left thigh where Eli had marked her. Remembering the things he’d done to her with his mouth, tongue, teeth—Christ, everything—made her whole body flush with renewed heat.
A strange new brand of disappointment echoed through her as she glanced over at the neighboring pillow, running her hand across the indention left behind. Their parting was inevitable, sure, but she hadn’t thought it would go down quite this way, without so much as a few pleasant parting words, maybe a goodbye kiss. Had she been that awful in the sack? Was he so desperate to escape he’d snuck out while she’d slept?
And who carries three goddamn condoms around with them? One is prepared and responsible, but three? That’s not just prepared, that’s armed and dangerous.
Shame reared its head, swift and savage and ugly. Bellamy mentally beat the uncomfortable emotion back down into submission. As a fully-grown adult, ten years removed from her hymen, she was old enough to make sexual choices, even if they were incredibly stupid ones.
Scrambling out of bed, she raced around the room, redressing, throwing clothing and toiletries inside her suitcase. Getting out of that motel room as soon as possible suddenly became imperative to the welfare of her pride.
She should’ve stuck with the tequila.
Chapter Two
Three weeks later.
Eli Carter plowed a hand through his hair and let go a steady stream of every curse he had in his vast arsenal, ending with an exasperated and wholly unsatisfying, “Fucking hell.”
It was followed by a low bellow of misery from the Hereford cow lying on the ground in front of him. She was in labor, and had been for several hours. Problem was, nothing was happening. By this point, it should be, and they were losing decent light as the sun began its slow slide behind the tree line. At least they’d managed to get her inside a corral near the new wooden barn they’d built to house feed, hay, equipment and supplies. The barrier kept the other animals out of their way, most importantly the two-thousand-pound bull roaming the pasture.
His youngest brother Sage said, “I think she’s agreein’ with you.”
Then his brother Fritz stated the obvious. “None of us have ever pulled a calf before. I don’t mind sayin’ I’m not comfortable doing it alone the first time.”
“Think dad knows how?” Sage asked.
“Nope,” Fritz said. “He’ll tell us quick like that he’s a farmer, not a cattleman.”
“And then remind us again we’re on our own in this undertaking. Guess that leaves no choice but to call Doc Haile,” Eli said, then grimaced in sympathy as another contraction hit the pregnant cow. Her uterine muscles tightened and rolled, pushing fluid out, but still no sign of the calf.
This was your idea, dumbass. You coaxed your brothers into this lofty endeavor. It’s your responsibility, now deal with the ugly downsides.
Eli had wanted to find something he could call his own, something he was genuinely good at doing. Something that brought him satisfaction outside of a cornrow or a hay field.
Fritz was the farm king. Give him a patch of dirt and a few seeds, and he could make anything grow and thrive. Ask him the best time to plant this or that and he’d give you the answer without batting an eye, just like their father. Sage was great with numbers and keeping the farm’s bookkeeping straight and tight, but he could also sketch ideas out on paper. Tell him you wanted to build a barn and in a few days, Sage would have a detailed, scaled drawing ready that rivaled a college-educated architect’s work, complete with a lumber list and cost down to the penny.
But Eli? Nothing. He could drive any piece of farm equipment ever made and had a reputation for being decent in the sack. Neither one of those was something to be particularly proud of at the end of the day. The sex might leave him smiling for a few hours, satisfied, but content and worthy? No.
And ever since he’d come back to an empty motel room and no sign of Bellamy a few weeks back, he’d been feeling more frustrated and confused than ever when it came to what he wanted from the opposite sex. She’d affected him like no woman had before, left him wanting more of everything from her, which was a foreign concept to Eli. She was bright, funny and quick with a comeback, not to mention so beautiful and sexy she’d stolen his ability to think from the moment he’d first spotted her at the rodeo.
When the cow huffed her discomfort again, he abandoned his inner grumbling and snatched his cell from the clip on his belt.
“You got Doc Haile’s number with you?” Fritz asked.
“I programmed it into my phone several weeks
ago. Must’ve been a subconscious omen of what was to come.”
“Sad fact is, this won’t be the last one,” Sage said. “Might as well learn how for the next time.”
Eli thumbed through his contacts until he found Doc Haile’s name and number. A moment of panic hit him while he waited for the call to connect. What if the doc didn’t answer or was away on another work call? What then? Losing his first calf, and possibly the mother too, would leave a bad taste in his mouth. He didn’t need another reason to second-guess his decision to raise beef cattle.
“Haile Vet Practice,” said a female voice on the other end of the line.
He hadn’t expected a woman to answer. With Doc Haile’s advancing age, maybe he finally decided to hire extra help.
“This is Eli Carter. I have a cow in labor and she’s not progressing. I’m…not sure how to go about pulling the calf. Is Doc Haile available?”
There was a brief pause, then “You’re talking to her.”
At the snappy comeback, a memory ricocheted around in Eli’s brain. There was something familiar about the husky undertones in her voice…
“Do that again, Eli.”
His hand tightened around the phone. “Bellamy?”
Her muffled sigh more or less confirmed his suspicion before she started firing questions at him like blasts from a shotgun. “How long has she been in labor?”
Eli cleared his throat. “Since mid-afternoon.”
“Has she expelled the water bag yet?”
“Yes.”
“How long ago?”
“Half an hour, maybe a bit longer.”
“Has the calf presented itself at all?”
“No.”
“Do you have her penned up somewhere safe, away from the rest of the herd and well lit?”
“She’s inside a corral. There are lights on the outside of the barn, but we have moveable spotlights available too.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Before she could hang up, Eli said, “Don’t you need directions?”
“I know where it is.”
How? was on the tip of his tongue, but the tension was thick enough between them as it was, even through the phone. No sense ramping it up another notch when he was in dire need of her expertise. The last thing he wanted to do was poke at her to the point of aggravation.
“Thanks, Bellamy.”
She hung up without another word.
Eli stuffed his phone back in his pocket, ignoring his brothers’ curious stares, and walked toward the outer gate to wait for her. Standing there with his forearms draped across the cold metal, the full implications of their conversation sunk in.
Bellamy was in Serenity, working for Doc Haile.
No, she was the new and much improved Doc Haile. Talk about your blind luck. And if she could be at the barn in ten minutes, she was fairly close.
A shitload of questions rattled around in his skull, but of course, his wounded ego was the first to raise its hand. Why had she cut and run that morning? He’d left a note on the dresser saying he was going out for their breakfast and he’d be right back. Best he could recall, he didn’t do or say anything to give her the impression that he didn’t want more than just one night. Or that he regretted what they’d done. Regret never entered his mind, only profound disappointment at discovering an empty motel room.
At least he knew what she was doing behind the chutes at the rodeo—working. Huh. He’d never met a female large-animal vet before. But what had set her stomping off across that motel parking lot in search of a stiff drink? A rough day? A bad break-up? Had he been the rebound guy, available and eager to please? Wouldn’t be the first time he’d been a stand-in for someone else. Normally the notion didn’t bother him. In fact, he sort of preferred it. Easier to detach from those types of situations, walk away without a commitment for more. A quick tumble and he was out the door, everyone’s satisfied and nobody got hurt.
The thought of being a substitute for some other dude in Bellamy’s life made him uncomfortable. So did the idea of someone hurting her. Angry even.
Bright headlights cut through a dense, low-hanging fog rolling in across the pasture. The dampness in the air made the temperature feel cooler than it actually was, which they would more than likely appreciate once they started working up a sweat in a few minutes.
Eli unhooked the chain holding the gate closed and walked it backward so she could pull through, closing it behind her. She parked close to a narrow opening he’d left in the corral’s barrier of rolled steel panels and climbed out of her truck, a battered silver crew-cab four-wheel drive with several toolboxes mounted on the body and contact information printed across the doors and tailgate.
Seeing her again, even in the fading light, made his heartbeat quicken and his hands clench. Tonight she was dressed for business in faded jeans, brown work boots and a gray Henley, the sleeves shoved up to her elbows. The look suited her—no nonsense, determined and not afraid to get dirty. Prepared for it.
Her hair was lifted off her slender neck in a high ponytail. He could still remember how those strands of black silk felt sliding between his fingers, tickling his stomach, catching in the bristle on his jaw. The way she shuddered and sighed when he kissed her neck. Her eyes were the deep, rich green of a magnolia leaf in spring, expressive and faithless to their owner when she was turned-on, lying about her name or worrying over something.
And that body…
He hated to admit it, but he had a type when it came to women. He usually liked them curvy, bold and willing. Bellamy was reed-thin and toned, with soft golden skin. She possessed curves, but they were subtle and hidden beneath simple clothing. Her small breasts fit perfectly in the cup of his hands and they were extra sensitive to touch, even breath. When he’d kissed a slow path from hipbone to hipbone, her stomach muscles had quivered beneath his lips.
“Don’t stop.”
That night in Perry she’d been somewhat bold, but he could tell it wasn’t in her true nature to be overly flirty and daring. And although she’d been willing, he’d sensed her hesitancy, like she was trying hard not to think about what she was doing. Or making internal peace with what they were about to do—sleep together after knowing each other for only a few hours, a practice that came second nature to Eli.
He’d been an escape for Bellamy Haile, a respite from something plaguing her mind. He intended to find out what it was. With any luck, it would land him back in her bed again too. For right now though, he had to set all that curiosity and lust aside and focus on learning how to save the calf and its mother via Bellamy’s knowledge of veterinary medicine.
He watched her select items from various compartments on the truck, dropping them into a clean plastic bucket at her feet. When it appeared she was satisfied with what she’d chosen, he grabbed the handle before she could. Her even gaze skimmed him from chest to face, then she turned and he followed her into the corral, setting the bucket down near the struggling cow’s rump.
While he’d been out at the gate waiting, Fritz and Sage had been busy. Artificial light spilled across the corral and there was a bucket of clean water nearby in case Bellamy needed it. A halter and rope was attached to the cow’s head and tied off to the closest fence post.
“Bellamy, these are my brothers, Sage and Fritz.”
They shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you both,” she said, then turned her attention to the furry mother. She passed a hand across the animal’s broad hindquarter, murmuring softly, introducing herself there also, it seemed.
“Is this her first calf?”
“Yeah, and ours too,” Eli said. “When we bought them they were already bred, but the record books are immaculate.”
“That’s good. First timers can be tricky. Calving tends to take longer, however they generally give birth to smaller calves. The larger the cow grows, the bigger her calves will be. Males can run bigger than females, and that can cause difficult births too. Then there are sire issues. Some bulls
just throw big calves. If you see this continuing to be a problem into next year, you might want to consider getting a different bull.”
Eli, Sage and Fritz nodded in understanding, hands braced on their hips, ready to do as she bid. Despite having read copious amounts of material about raising cattle, Eli appreciated all the practical input he could get. Hands-on was a much better learning tool than any book or article on the internet.
The entire time Bellamy talked, she’d been assembling her tools on a small plastic tarp.
“I’m going to talk as I go and y’all are going to help. Experience is the best way for you to learn, and if you have questions, ask them.” She handed each of them a pair of long plastic gloves. While they tugged them up to their biceps, she did the same, then added a pair of fitted latex gloves over hers. “The ideal way to do this is with the dam in a head chute so you can control her, but she seems fairly calm and exhausted, so I think we’ll be okay with the rope and halter. If there’s ever any doubt, put her in a chute so you can restrict her movement in case she gets spooked or agitated. Keep the noise levels down to a minimum. The less agitated she is, the better the birth will go. Timing is key here as well. If she’s expelled the water sac, the calf needs to be delivered soon after, but an hour is the benchmark. Longer than that and you risk losing it.”
The cow let out a low bellow and Bellamy patted her side. “I know it hurts, little momma.” She turned her attention back to them. “And that’s another thing—she feels pain just like we do. Be very gentle and careful in everything you do to her.”
Bellamy dropped to her knees behind the cow. “First thing we need to do is wash and disinfect her entire hind end. Nothing gets squirted inside of her, only the outside areas. It’s important that everything—you, her, your tools—are thoroughly disinfected. You don’t want to introduce any bacteria inside the birth canal.” She held up a bottle of disinfectant so they could read the brand name. “Most farm stores carry calving supplies. If you can’t find what you need, ask me and I’ll order it for you.”