by Jo McNally
“Is she in labor?”
Nell nodded solemnly. “Looks like she’s been at it for a while now, and nothing’s happening. A leg might be turned back, or maybe the calf is breech. Doc Pritchard is out of town. We’re going to have to do this ourselves.”
“Do what, exactly?”
“Help her deliver this baby. I’m not strong enough to do it, honey, but you can.”
She stared at Nell in stunned silence then repeated herself.
“Do what, exactly?”
Nell nodded to the cow’s back half. “You’ll have to reach in and see what’s going on. You might have to help straighten out the little guy or gal so Trixie can deliver it.” Nell must have read the naked panic on Bree’s face. “If we don’t do something, they’ll both die. The calf may be dead already.”
“No.” Bree stepped away, shaking her head vehemently. This was far more than she’d bargained for. “I am not going to lie down in this mud and stick my hand up this cow’s butt and into her...her...”
“Into her uterus, Bree. That’s what you need to do.”
Bree flung her arms wide and shouted. “I’m from Malibu, for God’s sake. I can’t...”
Trixie let out a low, trembling groan of pain and fear, stopping Bree’s diatribe midsentence. She and Nell stared at each other then at the labored breathing of the cow. Nell was right. They were going to watch Trixie die here in a rain-soaked gully if they didn’t do something. Bree took a deep breath and muttered a curse aimed at Cole. Nell just sighed.
“I think he and the boys went to visit a young man they’ve been helping. We’re on our own here, Bree.”
After swallowing another lump of panic, Bree sounded far steadier than she felt.
“Tell me what to do.”
And that was how she came to be lying on her side in three inches of mud, her jacket off, one sleeve rolled up, with her scrubbed arm inside a cow. She shivered as rain started to fall again. Perfect. She dug her toes into the mud and gently pushed her hand farther inside, trying to ignore the occasional contractions that squeezed her arm like a vise.
“Here’s a foot.” Her fingers felt the slick little hoof and leg. It wasn’t moving.
“Only one?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, keep going. If the other leg is turned back, we’ll have to push the calf back into the uterus and bring the leg up so she can deliver.”
Bree grimaced. By “we,” Nell meant that she’d have to do it.
“I don’t feel any movement.”
“Calves can asphyxiate if they’re in the birth canal too long. It’s probably dead, but we can still save Trixie.” Nell was scratching the cow’s ears gently, cooing words of encouragement.
Bree groaned and pushed on. Her hand reached the wide head of the calf. She pushed past it and could feel the calf’s right leg was turned back. Okay. Now she needed to slowly push the calf backward as Nell had instructed. She had to be careful not to let the baby’s hooves cut the uterus, or Trixie could die from infection. She put gentle pressure on the body of the calf then gave a yelp of surprise.
“It licked me! I felt it lick me, Nell! It’s alive!” Goose bumps raced across her body, and they had nothing to do with the steady rain now falling. Her hair was plastered to her face and one half of her body was submerged in mud, but she was grinning like an idiot. The calf was alive. She took a deep breath and willed her hand to move slowly and carefully. Eventually she had both legs extended up into the birth canal, with the calf’s chin resting on them. Trixie gave a giant push, and a sprawling, wet bundle of calf and amniotic fluid came bursting forth. Bree quickly sat up and scooped the calf into her lap and out of the water. She and Nell, and even Trixie, all held their collective breath until they heard the nasally first inhalation from the reddish-brown calf with a white face. It tried to lift its boxy head on a still-too-weak neck, and big brown eyes fluttered open. Right there, Bree fell in love.
Nell laughed. “It’s a girl! A little heifer. Cole will be pleased.”
“Yeah, well, Cole isn’t here. This is our baby.” She had an inexplicable desire to just run home with this funny-looking creature and raise it herself. But Trixie had other ideas. She let out a long mournful call and her head dropped to the ground. Nell grew serious again.
“Bring the baby around front, Bree. Mama’s too tired to get up, and she needs to see she has a reason to keep trying.”
“I can’t lift her.”
“Grab her front legs and drag her, honey. They’re pretty flexible for the first hour or so. You won’t hurt her.”
Bree pulled herself from under the calf and did as Nell instructed. The muddy ground made it easier to drag the calf. As soon as Trixie was able to put her nose on her baby girl, a chuckling sound rumbled deep in the cow’s chest. Her long, pink tongue cleaned off the little one, who was now holding her head up and already trying to move her knobby legs. Bree was enthralled. Nell stood next to her for a few minutes then nudged her.
“We need to get them down to the barn where they’ll be dry for the night, so mama can recover. If we both try, I think we can lift the heifer into the back of the truck. If you hold her there, Trixie will follow us. I’ll have to take it slow. There should be a blanket behind the seat. Go get it and wrap yourself up before you get chilled to the bone in this rain.”
Bree looked down at herself and grinned. She was covered in mud and bovine body fluids. And she’d never felt so strong and happy. She’d just brought life into the world.
Nell read her mind. “If Malibu could see you now.”
“I’ve never looked worse or felt better. Let’s get them into the barn where I can see my new little godchild in the light.” It took some work, but they were able to lift the heifer into the back of the truck. Trixie pushed herself up to her feet and let out a sad call. Bree sat on the lowered tailgate with her legs dangling off the back and the calf halfway across her lap. Trixie dropped her muzzle onto the calf and looked up at Bree as if to say she understood what they were doing. Bree rapped her knuckles on the side of the truck, signaling Nell to start the slow descent to the barn. The rain had stopped again, but it didn’t really matter. She was soaked to the bone. And she couldn’t wipe the enormous smile off her face.
* * *
COLE HAD SLEPT very little last night, and it had been a painfully long day. He and the guys had driven to the mountains in the western part of the state, leaving early that morning. They’d left his truck in Laurinburg and gone the rest of the way in the Jeep. Chris, Jerome and Ramirez dropped him off at his truck an hour ago so they could drive directly back to Fayetteville without him. Maggie made the long trip, and she was sound asleep on the seat by his side.
The purpose of the three-hour drive to the tiny town of Pull Tail Gap was to check up on a young soldier that Cole had met in the VA hospital months ago. Travis Walker had enlisted straight out of high school, following his best friend into the army. The two boys had grown up together, and went off to Afghanistan ready for battle. Good guys against bad guys. White hats against black hats. Just like in the video games and movies, they were going over to kick some ass then come home as heroes.
But that wasn’t what happened. Travis’s unit saw a lot of action, and took a lot of casualties, including his best friend. He came home a tense, angry young man.
Cole saw himself in Travis’s bottled-up emotions and inability to connect with people. While Cole didn’t figure he needed therapy sessions for himself anymore, he encouraged Travis to join a group with Chris and Ramirez, and he seemed to be responding well. They all thought the kid was making progress.
But Travis suddenly announced he was ready to go home a month ago, leaving the clinic and his support group. Their phone conversations and emails had gone from long and detailed to short and infrequent. He could feel Travis starting to withdraw, an
d it bothered Cole enough that he’d talked his buddies into making the drive.
He started to relax as he drove back through Russell. Everything in town, including The Hide-Away, was closed up tight, as it should be after sundown on a Sunday night. It had been raining here, and the roads were shiny, reflecting the buildings and trees in the glow of the scattered streetlights.
Pull Tail Gap was even smaller than Russell, but maybe it was where Travis needed to be; the same way that Cole belonged here. The kid had been happy today. Happier than Cole had ever seen him, actually. Not perfect—there were still dark, sad shadows behind his eyes when he thought no one was looking. But still, he was better than expected.
Travis’s father was convinced his son was completely back to normal. Cole wasn’t ready to go that far yet, but he had to admit the kid seemed to be pretty damn good. He was glad he’d talked the guys into the trip. It was one less thing to worry about.
He glanced down at his phone on the seat and shook his head. They’d gotten lost this morning, and the map app had thoroughly chewed up his battery power. It wasn’t like he was expecting any calls anyway. He made the final turn toward home, and Maggie sat up as if she knew they were almost there.
“Let me guess,” he said to his now-alert dog, “you can’t wait to go visit your new part-time mistress tonight, right?” Maggie’s tail flicked in happiness. He still couldn’t figure out why the dog was determined to stay with Bree every night. Nell said Maggie made Bree feel safe, and that was enough reason for him to let the visits continue. Somebody wanted to hurt her, and on the odd chance they happened to find her here, they’d never get past his army-trained dog.
He was getting ready to turn into his place when he caught the flash of lights in the distance. Truck headlights were working their way slowly down the hill toward Nell’s barn from the cattle pasture. It was after ten o’clock at night. Something was wrong.
Really wrong.
He stepped on the gas and cranked the steering wheel. His truck roared up the drive past Nell’s house. He slid the vehicle to a stop, leaped out and jumped the gate, running up the hill with Maggie bounding at his side.
Nell was behind the wheel of her truck, and she gave him a cheery smile and wave that settled his pounding heart. She gestured to the back of the truck with her thumb, so he waited for her to pass while he caught his breath. Trixie was following behind, the cow’s attention fixed on the truck bed. He looked over and his knees went weak at the sight of Bree holding tight to a tiny, wet Hereford calf in her lap.
The glow of the taillights bathed them in crimson warmth. Bree’s wet hair hung down the sides of her face, caked with mud. She had a splotch of dirt on her cheek and more on her chin. A blanket was draped over her shoulders; her clothes were dripping wet and filthy. And she was smiling. In fact, her smile lit up her face. She looked...joyful. And relaxed. Maybe that was it. She was always so uptight, but there was no edge to her right now. Her wide eyes dropped to the calf in her lap.
“It’s a girl, Cole. It’s a perfect girl.” It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the four-legged creature, and not herself. Because right then, she looked like a perfect girl to him. He forced himself to look at the red-and-white calf. He was walking behind the slow-moving truck now, alongside Trixie. They were almost to the barn.
“A perfect girl.” He agreed with her.
Her expression darkened and her smile faded. She’d just remembered she was supposed to be mad at him.
“We called you. Where were you?”
His face flushed with guilt. “I was out of town. My phone died. Sorry.”
“We needed you, Cole.” He took a sharp breath. People shouldn’t need him. People had needed him in Afghanistan, and some of them were dead. Before he went any farther down that dark hole, Bree pulled him back.
“Hey...” He looked up and saw the regret in her eyes. Just like that night at the bar, she’d managed to peer inside his soul and see his pain. It was spooky as hell. “I’m sorry. It turned out okay. Nell and I handled it.”
The truck stopped behind the barn. He stepped forward and lifted the calf into his arms. It weighed a solid eighty pounds or more, and he marveled that the two women were able to get her into the truck. Trixie ambled into the barn behind him. Nell had gone on ahead and turned on the lights. There was a large stall already bedded deep with straw. It was only a few minutes before the calf pushed herself to her feet and moved on wobbly legs to begin nursing. He heard Bree’s sigh and turned to see her standing next to him, her arms folded on top of the gate.
“Look at that.” Bree smiled as she watched the calf. “I brought life into the world tonight. I put my arm inside a cow and pulled out a real live calf. What a rush.”
“You did what?” He couldn’t possibly have heard that right.
She lifted her muddy chin proudly. “Her leg was turned, so I had to go in and push her back and fix the leg and then she came out, right into my lap. Then we had to drag the baby around so mama could see that she had a reason to live. Someone needed her. It was amazing.”
His heart stuttered to a stop then restarted again. Trixie had to live because someone needed her. We needed you, Cole. He stepped back as if Bree had slapped him. She was too wrapped up in her joy to notice.
“Nell, we did it. They could have died, but you told me what to do, and I lay there in the mud and I freakin’ did it!” She flashed him another dazzling smile. “When my arm was in there, the baby licked me. We thought she was dead, but then I felt that little sandpaper tongue on my arm. She hadn’t been born yet and she licked me!” Bree’s eyes were wide and bright in her dirt-stained face. He stepped closer. He was staring at her mouth, and she knew it. She stopped talking.
Nell cleared her throat. Bree flinched, and he knew she’d momentarily forgotten about the woman’s presence, too.
“Bree, honey, you were a trouper tonight, but you’re soaking wet and so am I.” Nell nodded toward Cole. “I think you better get her back to the cottage, Mr. Caldwell. It’s the least you can do after she saved Trixie and this good-looking heifer. I’m headed inside for a long, hot bath.”
Cole surprised Nell almost as much as himself when he stepped up and enveloped her in a hug. It wasn’t his usual style, but this wasn’t a usual night.
“You’re the best, Nell. Thank you.” Bree turned away from them to watch Trixie and the calf. He dropped his voice so only Nell could hear. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. My phone...” She stopped him by setting her hand on his chest.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Your Hollywood bombshell did okay tonight. She was scared out of her mind, but she did it anyway. That’s the definition of bravery, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t answer, still stuck on the idea that Bree was somehow his Hollywood bombshell.
“Take her back to the cottage, honey, and make sure she gets warmed up so she doesn’t get sick.”
He nodded. “Go on inside, Nell. I’ll close up the barn and take care of Hollywood.”
Nell and Bree hugged tightly and laughed about their adventurous evening, ignoring the mud and goop that was beginning to dry to a crust on their clothes. He sent Bree to his truck with Maggie while he tossed fresh hay into the stall for Trixie and turned off the barn lights. It only took a few minutes, but when he got to the truck, Bree was already nodding off. Her adrenaline rush was fading, and she was starting to crash.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty. No rest for you until you chisel that gunk off your body.” He backed the truck out onto the road. “I can’t believe I’m even letting you in my truck the way you smell.”
“Bite me, Plowboy.” Her words didn’t hold their usual edge. “I wouldn’t be caked in this gunk if you’d been around. But honestly? I wouldn’t trade tonight for anything. What a rush.”
He parked the truck next to the cottage. Bree reached for the
door handle and mumbled a soft “Good night.” She looked over in surprise when he turned off the engine.
“I promised Miss Nell I’d make sure you were okay. That means walking you inside and making sure you don’t collapse onto her sofa wearing those disgusting clothes.”
She was apparently too tired to argue, because she just walked ahead of him into the cottage with a lazy shrug. She kept right on walking, straight into the bathroom. That left him and Maggie standing in the middle of the tiny living room, staring at each other.
“I don’t know about you, dog, but I need a drink.”
CHAPTER TEN
THE REFRIGERATOR HELD two bottles of white wine. There was gin in the freezer. Neither appealed to him, so he started rummaging through the cupboards. He found what he wanted under the sink, of all places. Way in the back was a bottle of cognac, topped with a brilliant red and green Christmas bow. The cottage’s last tenant was a shy young schoolteacher. Apparently one of the parents in her class didn’t know she was a teetotaler, and had given her the expensive bottle of brandy for Christmas. She’d pushed the offending gift way out of sight and left it there when she moved.
He pulled juice glasses from the cupboard and poured two fingers in each. He emptied one and sighed at the fine burn then refilled the glass. He could hear the shower running and tried hard not to think about Bree stepping into the old claw-foot tub, drawing the plastic curtain around her and letting the hot water pour over her alabaster skin.
He moved out of the kitchen and looked desperately for something to distract him from his misbehaving thoughts. He couldn’t stop thinking about her in the back of Nell’s truck, covered in God knows what, laughing like she owned the world. That laugh of hers, so relaxed and natural, had done something to him. Something he could actually feel in his chest. He sat on the sofa with a loud groan. Maggie stretched out by the door and watched him with justifiable concern. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all.