by Deb Kastner
Maybe—okay, probably—it was wrong for him to harbor those kinds of feelings, almost as if he was plotting some sort of emotional revenge on her.
But was it so wrong that he wanted to open her eyes?
That he wanted her to see?
He watched her as she tended to his wounds, gently wiping away the blood and dabbing at the gouges. A lock of long light blond hair dropped over her shoulder and he reached out with his free hand to tuck it back behind her ear, barely resisting the urge to take an extra moment to enjoy the silky feel of her locks, to run them through his fingers to see if her hair was as soft as he remembered.
Rowdy concentrated on not moving his arms as she worked, using the sting of the rubbing alcohol to force his mind away from the road his heart wanted to travel.
The baby monitor crackled as Toby woke with a howl that brought a smile to one side of Rowdy’s lips.
“That was a short nap,” Ange said. “Excuse me a minute while I go grab him.”
How could a baby’s cry sound so bloomin’ cute? That Toby was in distress in some way—hungry or wet or just needing his mama’s arms—shouldn’t make Rowdy smile, but something about the mewl went straight to his heart and swelled within it.
Melted it.
What was that, anyway?
Joy?
How could a little squeak from a baby that was not only not of his own blood, but was his ex-fiancée’s, have any kind of hold on him whatsoever?
Danger zone.
Somehow, the pain of his past was getting muddled with the confusion of the present.
A cloud of panic overshadowed him as he mentally twisted and turned to avoid making contact with those befuddling emotions.
He had better get out now, while the going was good.
He bolted to a standing position, hitting the table with his thigh and nearly upending the first-aid kit.
“Is Toby hungry?” he asked, as if Ange hadn’t noticed that the infant hadn’t settled down. She’d been making soft, soothing baby talk to him from the moment he’d awoken, promising her full attention just as soon as Rowdy’s injuries were taken care of.
“Sit down, Rowdy,” she said, placing Toby in the bouncer. “Toby is fine. He can wait one more minute while I finish patching you up. He only sounds like he’s going to perish from lack of sustenance.”
“Still, I’d better go.”
He grabbed his chambray shirt from the back of the chair and threaded his still-stinging arms through it.
There were a few spots where rivulets of blood still dripped from his forearms, but he ignored them.
“You’re being stubborn. Not to mention you’re bleeding all over your chambray. Come on. Let me help you.”
Her voice was as calm and gentle as a mythical siren’s song. It was all Rowdy could do not to slump back into his seat and give in to her ministrations.
But that, he knew, would be a major tactical error. His emotions were all over the place after the adrenaline rush when Ange was attacked.
Stupid rooster.
“Look. You just take care of Toby, and I’ll clean myself up. See you tomorrow.”
He scrambled toward freedom and was out the front door before she could open her mouth to argue.
Whew. Narrow escape.
Chapter Five
Take care of Toby.
What was that supposed to mean?
She’d mulled over his words all through the night but had come up empty.
Was Rowdy judging her as a mother just because she’d been concerned about his injuries and had left Toby to his own devices for the few minutes it would have taken to patch him up?
How fair was that?
It wasn’t as if Toby would have starved to death. Angelica knew her son well enough to know he would find his fist and amuse himself until she could get to him.
As she dressed, she again went over and over Rowdy’s words in her mind and the strange way he’d left, saying something ridiculous about not wanting to bleed on the baby.
Wasn’t the whole point that she was trying to patch him up so he wouldn’t bleed on Toby, or anyone else, for that matter? And that was the thanks she got?
She yawned as she readied Toby for the day. Mornings came early on the ranch, but that was okay with Angelica. Toby was up and at ’em the moment the sun rose, anyway.
The only conclusion she arrived at was that Rowdy was one stubborn man, leaving the house with his wounds raw and bleeding. She expected the scratch on his jaw made from that razor-sharp rooster claw would scar, especially if it wasn’t taken care of immediately.
Rowdy had always been stubborn, but now he was being awfully moody, especially considering all she’d been trying to do was be nice and help him.
Well, no. That wasn’t the whole truth, now, was it?
The truth was that she was trying to make amends, to make up for her past mistakes.
She snorted.
As if that could ever be done.
Rowdy was right. Those little rooster scratches, deep as they might be, were nothing in comparison to the other ways she had hurt him or that he’d been hurt on her behalf.
This latest incident proved what she’d known all along. It was the reason he had suggested they break it off all those years ago, and ultimately it was why she had left him at the altar.
She wasn’t any good for Rowdy. Whenever she was near him, bad things happened to him. He was probably counting the minutes until she would be gone, so he could join Granny Frances’s farm to his and live in peace.
Perhaps it was time to put a rush on this whole process. She knew in her heart of hearts that Granny was hoping for a different outcome, that Angelica and Toby would choose to make their home here, that Angelica would find the same delight Granny had working the ranch.
But that was simply not to be. While Angelica had experienced moments of joy in the past few days, her failures had far outnumbered her triumphs.
And she would not—could not—live next to Rowdy, even if acres of distance separated them.
This morning, rather than using the car seat to tote him, she slid Toby into a front pack. She needed to feel him breathing and close to her heart. Instead of his giant diaper bag, she wrapped a lunch-sack-sized bag filled with essentials over her hip.
She was as ready as she would ever be.
Rowdy had called and instructed her to leave the chickens alone for the time being, at least until he was around to guide her, which was fine by her. Phobia or no phobia, she wasn’t in any hurry to step into that coop again.
Instead of feeding the chickens, she headed out to check on the sheep. Many of the late-season ewes were close to delivering, and it was her job to keep an eye out for new lambs and make sure they were all nursing properly with their mamas.
She also thought she would spend some time learning to herd the sheep with the two border collies, Kip and Tucker, and the Anatolian shepherd, Zeus, who guarded the flock at night.
At least with the dogs she could be herself, with little fear of failure. All three dogs appeared to understand that she was Granny’s replacement—not that Granny could ever be replaced. But Angelica was her temporary substitute.
No doubt they’d take to Rowdy even better than they did to her after he took over the land. It saddened her to think about what might happen to Granny’s dogs once the sale of the land went through. Rowdy had been caring for the dogs in Granny’s absence. Surely they had bonded. But he already had working dogs of his own. Hopefully he’d still want to keep Granny’s dogs on, for her memory’s sake, if for no other reason.
She remained lost in thought until she had reached the barn. She stopped and inhaled deeply. Maybe it was because she was born and raised in Serendipity and had ranching in her blood, skipping one generation notwithstanding, but it was funny how quickly she’d grown
fond of the sights and sounds of the country.
Even the sweetly acrid scent of the animals, combined with the smell of fresh-cut hay and rich grain, along with leather tack, brought her mind right back to a time when Granny’s house was the only fortress she had against town rumors and gossip.
It still was that stronghold. She’d found a measure of peace here that she hadn’t had elsewhere.
Granny’s house needed a bit of repair, and the barn needed a new coat of paint, but Rowdy could take care of those types of minor issues sometime in the future when the property officially belonged to him. Or maybe he would knock the buildings down and make more room for the sheep to graze.
Angelica moved from jug to jug in the barn, small, closed-off areas where Rowdy had sorted the ewes he believed were closest to giving birth or that he thought might have trouble with the birthing process.
She was delighted to find that two of the ewes had delivered during the night and the cute little balls of fluff were contentedly nursing with their mamas. She knew there were various inoculations to give and a few odds and ends to take care of with the new lambs, but they could wait until later this afternoon when Rowdy could attend to them. She didn’t want Toby too near the ewes or the newborn lambs for health reasons.
She wasn’t an expert, but both lambs looked well and she thought Rowdy would be pleased.
Next, she walked to the nearest field, where Rowdy had cut out and herded the rest of the ewes close to delivering.
She was glad for the opportunity to stretch her legs as she weaved through ankle-high grass to look for lambs that might have dropped during the night.
She didn’t see anything until she reached the far end of the field in the southernmost corner, right next to the electric netting that kept the ewes safe and predators out.
Zeus was shadowing the area, barking at her as she approached.
Angelica’s heartbeat soared in excitement when she saw two wobbly white newborn lambs.
Twins!
Angelica was elated at discovering the two-for-one special.
She knew Rowdy would be pleased, as well. Extra lambs meant extra money.
But as Angelica stopped to observe them for a moment, she was concerned to see that while one lamb had been warmly welcomed by its mother and was contentedly nursing, the ewe was actively butting the other little lamb away from her, denying the poor thing its right to nurse with its twin.
Did sheep sometimes reject their own young? She suddenly wished she knew more about the animals Granny had committed to her care.
Pulse pounding, Angelica slipped her cell phone from the back pocket of her jeans and pressed Rowdy’s number, which he had insisted she put on speed dial because she and Toby were living alone and he’d be the closest one to call in the case of an emergency.
Angelica wasn’t certain this qualified as an emergency, but frankly, she didn’t know who else to call. It was either Rowdy or the town vet, and who knew how long it would take for the vet to get here.
Plus, she knew Rowdy better, and trusted him implicitly.
“What’s wrong?” Rowdy asked without so much as saying hello. “Are you okay? Is there something the matter with Toby?”
She was surprised at the depth of concern in his voice, but she quickly put him at ease on both counts.
“Toby and I are fine. But when I was walking in the field this morning looking for newborn lambs, I came upon a ewe that had just delivered twins.”
“That’s great,” he assured her. “Ewes of this breed often have twins. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Yes, well in this case, the ewe appears to be favoring one lamb over the other. She’s completely rejecting one, actually, and it has me a little worried. Enough that I thought I’d better give you a call.”
“You did the right thing,” he said.
“Every time the second lamb moves in to try to nurse, the ewe butts it away.” Her words came faster and fiercer with every syllable.
“Take a deep breath, Ange. This happens sometimes, especially with twins. We can take care of it. Where are you right now?”
“In the southernmost corner of the lambing field. The ewe is standing just short of the fence line. You’ll be able to see—and probably hear—Zeus when you get close enough. He’s been hovering. He really knows his job.”
“Sit tight. I have to gather a few things together and then I’ll be right over.”
“Okay.” Relief flooded through her. She was way out of her depth here, but Rowdy would know just what to do.
Rowdy had always been that man to her, the guy she could count on, and apparently, some things hadn’t changed.
She thought the words, even if they were never anything she would admit to out loud.
Hero to the rescue.
* * *
Rowdy arrived with his bucketful of equipment and quickly assessed the situation. Frankly, he was more concerned about the state he’d found Ange in than for the little lamb seemingly rejected by its mother.
She looked worried. That sensitive side of Ange’s heart, her vulnerability, was something few had seen. For some reason, she kept her guard up and didn’t put her emotions on display. But Rowdy knew—or he’d thought he had known—who she really was. At least, until she’d run off and abandoned him on the eve of their wedding.
But right here, right now, the soft side of her was back in spades. Her heart was breaking for the rejected twin, perhaps recognizing the parallels in her own life. Her parents had, in all the ways that mattered to a young girl, rejected Ange when she was no more than a child.
And Toby, picking up on his mother’s current distress, was squirming and wailing in the front pack, flapping his tiny arms and legs. He wasn’t usually fussy, so that told Rowdy a lot.
“Finally,” Ange said, laying a palm on her throat. “I feel so bad for this little lamb. How can the mother be so unfeeling to her own baby?”
“Sheep aren’t the brightest animals on the planet,” he explained, kneeling next to the ewe and the deserted lamb. “This ewe may not realize the second lamb is hers. She may believe she is protecting the first lamb, the one she thinks is hers, from being pushed out by the twin.”
“So what do we do now?” She moved closer, but with Toby in a front pack and a diaper bag slung across her hip, there was no way for her to crouch down by the ewe.
He didn’t want her getting too close to the sheep, anyway, especially since he didn’t know how strong of an immune system Toby had.
But when Ange said we, she meant we. He could see it was eating her up to have to stand by and watch, unable to do anything to help.
“First, let’s try to coax the ewe into feeding the lamb. Just like with a human baby, the ewe’s colostrum is best for the lamb, especially for the first day.”
Rowdy scooped the rejected lamb into his arm and positioned himself so his shoulder would take the brunt of the ewe’s force should she balk and try to butt the lamb away again.
“You can help block the ewe’s movements with your legs, if you want, but be careful. I don’t want you and Toby to get caught in the cross fire.”
Rowdy half expected her to argue with him. Ange was the type of woman who always wanted to be right in the middle of the action.
But she merely nodded in agreement. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”
He tossed a glance up at her and their gazes met and held. Rowdy’s throat burned and he swallowed hard.
Becoming a mother had changed Ange—in a good way. She was still the take-charge, independent woman she had always been, but somehow having Toby had softened her around the edges. He’d always known the gentle side of her was there, but she’d always chosen to hide it. Now, with Toby, that side of her personality beamed through.
The way she put Toby first in everything. That tender way she interacted with him, whe
ther feeding him a bottle or changing a diaper.
Rowdy liked what he saw. And for the first time since she’d left him eight years ago, he allowed himself to acknowledge those feelings.
But only for a moment, since his attention needed to be completely focused on the lamb and its mama. For five minutes, Rowdy and Ange tried without success to get the rejected lamb to nurse on the ewe.
It didn’t help that Toby was fussing in earnest, growing louder by the minute. Ange was desperately making shushing noises and using her hands to bounce Toby soothingly, but Toby would have none of it.
Ange flashed Rowdy an apologetic glance.
“I think he’s picking up on my concern. He usually doesn’t make this much noise, and it’s startling the ewe.”
“No worries. Why don’t you go back to the house and take care of Toby and I’ll keep working with the lamb? I suspect we’re going to have to go with Plan B with this little girl, anyway.”
“Plan B?”
“Plan Bottle-feed. I’ll get it started, but I think you’ll enjoy watching the process, so I’ll wait for you in the barn, okay?”
Her expression shaded in disappointment. Rowdy didn’t know whether she was unhappy because she had to miss watching the beginning of the process of bottle-feeding, or because they hadn’t been successful in getting the lamb to suckle on its mother.
He attempted to get the lamb to nurse for an additional ten minutes, but to no avail. There was no obvious reason he could see why the ewe would reject the lamb.
It looked healthy enough to his trained eye. It was possible there was a real problem, something he couldn’t see, but he wasn’t going to borrow trouble. The ewe’s rejection didn’t necessarily mean there was anything wrong with the lamb—only that the ewe was confused.
He scooped the lamb up in one arm and lifted his bucket of supplies with the other, then trod back over the field and into the barn, whistling as he went. Working with newborn lambs was one of the real perks of ranch living, and he loved it.