Tucked Away

by Jennie Marts

  Chapter Four

  BRIIINNNGGG.

  The jarring ring of an actual telephone woke her from a deep sleep later that night. The lit numbers of the digital alarm clock shone 1:38 as she picked up the handset from the phone on the bedside table and mumbled a groggy, “Hello.”

  “Charlie, it’s Cash. We need you out by the barn. Marjorie’s calf is coming in breach, and we couldn’t get her inside. We could use your help.”

  The alarm in Cash’s usually steady voice had her instantly awake and reaching for the jean shorts she’d left on the chair earlier that day. “Sure, I’ll be right there. But I don’t know what I can do.”

  “We just need somebody to hold the light. Doc is here and working on her. Come through the barn and grab that extra red lantern hanging inside the door. I’ve got the big barn door open, and you’ll see us right outside. Come now!”

  She dropped the phone into the cradle and stood to tuck the black lace trim of her nightgown into her shorts. Her pink boots were lying on the floor at the end of the bed, and she shoved her feet into them as she grabbed for Gigi’s robe and ran for the front door.

  An unfamiliar truck sat in the driveway, its bed fitted with a strange topper of cabinets and drawers. She assumed it belonged to the veterinarian, imagining another old cowboy similar to Buckshot.

  Crossing the dark yard, she headed for the barn, the tails of Gigi’s robe flapping against her bare legs.

  What the hell was she doing on this farm? At one-thirty in the morning in New York, she would just be getting home from the clubs and pulling her dancing shoes off. Not running across a dirt driveway with her pink and black satin nightie tucked into a pair of denim shorts and sporting pink cowboy boots.

  Throwing open the barn door, she looked to her right and saw a battery-powered red lantern hanging from a nail on the wall. She grabbed it and another flashlight hanging beside it, and ran for the open end of the building, where she assumed Cash was.

  She ran through the door then drew up short at the sight before her. Halfway in the circle of light from the gaping barn door lay a huge cow on her side. Buckshot appeared to be kneeling on her neck, her tail held firmly in one hand.

  Cash was squatting in front of the cow, both hands moving across her extended belly as if giving her a massage. Her jaw dropped open at the sight of the half-naked Greek god of a man lying in the dirt at the cow’s end quarters.

  Muscles rippled across his tanned and mud-stained back as he struggled with the cow. She tried to equate why this shirtless man, wearing nothing but cowboy boots and a Wrangler-wrapped butt, had his sandy-haired head pressed against the cow’s side and both of his arms buried up to their pits inside of the cow.

  “Girl, shut your jaw and bring the light over here.” Buckshot’s deep-voiced order brought her to her senses. She snapped on the lantern and moved cautiously toward the men.

  “Point it here at her rump,” the bare-chested man ordered. “I need to see what I’m doing.”

  Charlie held the lantern higher, clicked the switch on the flashlight and pointed it at the man she assumed was the vet. Her earlier assumption of an old gray-haired doctor was definitely off, but with her track record lately, this man could just as easily be the gardener.

  Wait. This was the guy she met in town earlier. The one she’d spilled her purse on. He was a doctor?

  “Charlie, this is our vet, Dr. Zack Cooper. Doc, this is Gigi’s grandchild, Charlie.” Cash gave the introductions off-handedly, but when the men looked at her, they each did a little jaw-dropping of their own.

  Knowing how her hair tended to flatten to the pillow-side of her head, she knew she must look like quite a sight. Glancing down at herself, she saw Gigi’s robe had come open and realized it was most likely the pale-skinned cleavage popping out of her lacy negligee that was drawing their attention instead of her bed-head.

  “What in the hell are you wearing?” Cash asked, making no attempt to hide his appraisal of her bedtime wardrobe.

  She tried to pull the sides of the robe together, without moving the light too much. “Oh, shut up, Cash. You told me to hurry. I grabbed what was on the floor.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Charlie. Again,” the veterinarian said. “And as much as we’d all like to sit around and admire your underthings, we need to get this calf out of here.” He kicked a boot toward Cash. “Go get that calf-jack from my truck. And Charlie, get in here and give me some more light.”

  Cash pushed off from the cow and, taking Charlie by the shoulders, gently pushed her into his vacated spot.

  She tipped the light toward the doctor and jumped as she felt Cash’s arms come around from behind her and cinch her robe closed. “Nice boots,” he said with a low chuckle.

  She ignored his comment, too focused on her task and the animal in need. The cow bawled, the sound so mournful it almost broke her heart. In the moonlight, she could see the cow’s eyes were open wide and had a wild cast to them as she strained to release the calf from her body. “Can I do anything else to help?”

  “Nah,” Doc answered, gritting his teeth with the effort of fighting against the cow’s natural instinct to push. “I’m just trying to get this calf turned and get ahold of his back feet so we can pull him out.”

  His chest and arm muscles rippled and flexed as he worked to maneuver the calf inside its mother’s belly. The flashlight caught the glistening drops of perspiration as they mingled with the blood and fluid smeared across the vet’s chest.

  Seemingly oblivious to the mess, all of Zack’s concentration was on the mother cow. “C’mon, girl,” he cooed sweetly to the animal as he shifted his position against her hind end. “You can do this. Just a little more.”

  “Here, Coop. I got the calf-jack.” Cash dropped down beside the doctor, a medieval-looking tool in his arms. “Have you got his legs?”

  “Almost.” Zack pushed against the cow’s distended stomach, and his neck muscles strained as he pulled his arm from the belly of the cow.

  Charlie was amazed to see a small set of tiny hooves grasped in his hand.

  Cash took the calf-jack, which looked like a giant pitchfork with its middle tines missing, and centered the U-shaped end around the cow’s hips. Zack grabbed the chain and wrapped it around the small calf’s legs. Cash engaged the winch mechanism and, with each ratcheted pull of the winch, the calf’s legs and body emerged.

  “Charlie, put that light down, and hurry and go grab an armful of straw and a gunny sack out of the barn,” Buckshot ordered.

  Setting the lantern as close to the cow as she could, she took off running for the barn. She got halfway there before turning to yell, “What’s a gunny sack?”

  Not able to see his expression in the dark, she could still hear the exasperation in his voice. “It’s a burlap bag the feed comes in. There’s a big stack of ’em inside the barn door. That first stall there has fresh hay spread in it; grab as much as you can carry.” He grunted as the mama cow pushed against his knee, still struggling to release the calf from her body.

  Carrying a burlap bag and an armful of hay, she made it back to the cow in time to see the final pull. Amidst a splash of fluid, the calf dropped free from his mother’s body.

  “Sit down here.” Cash directed her to sit closer to the mama cow’s head. He grabbed the straw and quickly spread it out on the ground in front of her.

  Zack unwound the chains and picked up the calf. He gingerly laid it across Charlie’s legs, its long, stringy umbilical cord still attached and slick against her bare thigh. “Charlie, I need you to dry off the calf and try to get it moving while I take care of its mama.”

  Staring in bewilderment at the blood and goop smeared across her satin nightgown and the small calf in her lap, she watched as Zach took care of cutting the cord. She only seemed galvanized into action when the older ranch hand barked orders at her.

  “Use the gunny sack, girl,” Buckshot instructed. “Rub that calf down hard. We need to get the circulation going.”
He grabbed a corner of the bag and vigorously rubbed against the calf’s fur, showing her how it should be done. “You’re not gonna hurt it. Put some muscle into it.”

  She used the bag to dry and rub the small calf’s coat, copying the motions of Buckshot. The calf lay motionless in her lap, and she rubbed harder as alarm filled her that the baby wasn’t going to make it.

  “We need to clear the mucus from its nose.” Zack squatted beside her and reached across her for some straw. She sucked in a breath at the feel of his muscled chest against her arm as he grasped the calf’s head. Even in the dim light, she could see streaks of dried blood along his forearms. She reeled from the heady scent of aftershave, dirt, perspiration, and pure man emanating from his skin.

  “This is an old vet’s trick,” he said, his voice tinged with humor as he stuck the straw up the calf’s nostril. “You tickle his nose and get him to sneeze out that mucus.” He grinned down at her, and she could swear her heart flipped over in her chest.

  At the last words of his explanation, the calf let loose a sneeze, and a large glob of mucus flew through the air, landing in a sloppy trail across her new pink boot. To her delight, the calf let out a bawl and wriggled in her lap. “You did it,” she cried, not caring about her soiled footwear. “He’s moving.”

  She smiled as she looked into the eyes of her new hero. The mess covering her chest and her favorite satin nightgown held no meaning as this small creature came to life in her arms.

  “Never fails.” Zack laughed, apparently amused by the city-girl who had obviously just witnessed her first calving. He used a handful of straw to wipe the trail of goo from her boot, then offered her a wry grin. “Nice boots.”

  “Ha.” She let forth a loud laugh and squeezed the wiggling calf to her chest. “So I’ve been told.”

  …

  Twenty minutes later, she found herself washing up in the tiny bathroom inside the barn. Although “washing up” was a relative term, as all she had to use was a thin washcloth and a bar of gritty, gray-colored soap sitting in a circle of dried bubbles on the side of the sink.

  Turning off the water, she pulled the towel from the hook next to the old sink. She peered at herself in the mirror. Her hair wasn’t too bad. Although she wished she would’ve had a ponytail holder to pull it back. Gigi’s robe lay on the toilet seat beside her, and she stood in just her shorts and pajamas, the majority of her nightgown loose and untucked. She had washed most of the baby-calf gunk from her arms and face and wiped what she could from her nightgown. It was now just a dried, clotted mess along her front. Maybe she should just throw this one away. Montana seemed more like a flannel nightgown place than a satin nightie place anyway.

  “Hey, thought you could use this. I usually keep a couple extra in the truck.” Zack Cooper appeared in the open doorway of the bathroom. He held a faded blue T-shirt out to her. “Mind if I wash up a little?”

  Not sure how to get around him, she stepped back against the bathroom wall. She took the offered shirt, and he turned the water on.

  She held the T-shirt in front of her, transfixed by the sight of the shirtless cowboy splashing water over his chest. He took the bar of soap and worked up a lather over his arms and chest, holding a steady stream of conversation with her while he scrubbed the dried blood from his skin.

  “Sorry about that whole thing in town today.” He looked over at her, his eyes amused as he shook back the shock of bangs that fell into them. “We don’t see a lot of city-girls around here and when we do, they’ve usually got their noses so far in the air that they don’t notice what’s going on around them. I misjudged you, and I apologize.”

  Her words stuck in her throat, so unused to hearing an apology slip so easily and sincerely from a man’s lips.

  He grinned. “Boy, I wasn’t sure on that one. He was a tough little bugger. I didn’t know if I was gonna be able to get him turned. Good thing Cash was out there to help me with that calf-puller. He helped save the little guy. So did you, City-girl. You were great out there for your first time.”

  “Thanks, I guess.”

  Zack stuck his head over the sink and splashed water on his face. The muscles in his back and arms flexed as he ran his wet hands through his hair.

  What is it about a cowboy? She was used to men in business suits and white, starched shirts. She knew by his build if a man was fit, but the display of skin and muscle and pure maleness that she had seen in the short time she had been in Montana was intoxicating.

  He used the same towel she had to rub his skin vigorously dry, then pulled another clean T-shirt over his head and turned to look directly at her. “I mean it. You did a good job tonight. But the work’s not over yet. That calf is still going to need you.”

  The light was finally strong enough to see the color of his eyes, and she was mesmerized by the circle of green ringing the iris of his chocolate brown eyes. “What do you need me to do?” Because if you keep looking at me like that, I would do just about anything for you.

  Holy cow. Pull yourself together, girl.

  “Well, that calf of hers was laying on old Marjorie’s nerve, and she’s got a pretty common condition called ‘calving paralyses’.” He spoke to her, completely oblivious of the way his slow, easy drawl was sending delicious shivers up and down her spine. He could talk medical jargon all night, as long as he used that voice.

  His last words broke through Charlie’s hot-cowboy stupor and a gasp escaped her. “Oh no. The mama cow is paralyzed?”

  Zack laughed softly at her concern and laid a hand on her arm. Her bare skin under his calloused hand flamed with heat, and she imagined the feel of his hand running along her arms and shoulders and down her… Geez. What is happening to me? Why is this one man’s touch sending me into a tailspin? Do they add horny-juice to their water in Montana?

  She took a deep breath and tried to focus on what he was telling her. “It’s only a temporary paralysis. But, for right now, she can’t get up, and she can’t feed her calf. She’s not really in any pain, she’s just stuck out there. It could be for a few days, or she could be up and around by the afternoon. Regardless, both Buck and Cash are gonna be focused on the rest of the herd, so they’re going to need you to bucket feed that calf until old Marjorie can get back on her feet. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Sure, of course. I’ll do whatever I can to help.” His hand was still on her arm, and he squeezed it encouragingly. In his boots, he was well over six feet tall, and she felt small next to him as he stood within inches of her in the tiny bathroom. “But I have no idea how to feed a calf a bucket. Is that a measurement or some type of food?”

  Zack shook his head and laughed out loud. “I forgot for a minute that this was your first time in the country.”

  “We don’t see a lot of cows, or cowboys, for that matter, in New York.”

  “We’ve got an actual bucket with a nipple on it. We just mix up some formula, and the calf eats from the bucket like it’s an udder.”

  She stared blankly at him.

  “Why don’t I just come by in the morning and help you get set up the first time. I can stop in on my way to the clinic. That way, I can check on Marjorie and try to get her milked, as well. You ever milk a cow?”

  “Oh, sure. Every morning. I keep a milk cow on the fire escape of my apartment. It’s all the rage in the city.” She shivered involuntarily.

  “Hey, you must be cold.” The look of concern in his eyes after her sarcastic comment almost made her come undone. “Let’s get this shirt on you.”

  Zack took the shirt from her hands and pulled it over her head. She pushed both arms through and caught her breath as his hands slid around her neck and pulled her hair free from the collar of the T-shirt. She looked up into his eyes and tried to read the expression there.

  He was looking down at her, his hands still twisted in her hair, and she thought she saw a look of desire in his brown eyes.

  “Well, isn’t this cozy?” Cash stood in the doorway of the bathro
om.

  She felt a warm blush creep up her neck, but Zack seemed unfazed as he let go of her hair.

  “Just getting washed up, and I brought Charlie an extra shirt I had in the truck.” Zack picked up Gigi’s robe and handed it to her.

  “I can see that.” Cash seemed to appraise the situation with a knowing look. “Did you two want to be alone?”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Zack said with a familiarity that led her to believe these men were not only neighbors, but friends. He pushed Cash from the doorway and stepped out into the barn.

  She shrugged into the robe and pulled the cinch around her waist. The T-shirt smelled of detergent and aftershave, and she wanted to bury her nose in the soft cotton and inhale Zack’s scent. The large interior of the barn was cool compared to the small bathroom. “Even us city- girls know how to make coffee. Should I put on a pot up at the house? To thank you for the trouble of coming out in the middle of the night.”

  “Oh, we’ll thank him enough when he sends us the bill,” Cash said.

  “No. Thank you, though,” Zack said, ignoring Cash. “I need to get home and check on my baby girl.”

  Baby girl? He had a baby? Her stomach pitched as she pictured a beautiful wife waiting for him as she sat in a rocking chair cuddling their baby. How could she be so stupid? Thinking he was flirting with her. He was just caring for her like a father would. Not that she would know what that was like. Maybe that’s why she misunderstood his actions. Because she’d never had a father offer to help her with a T-shirt when she was cold.

  She could hear Zack telling Cash that he would be there in the morning to check on the cow and to help her get the calf fed. Their words faded into oblivion as her embarrassment grew.

  One more example of what a terrible judge of men she was. For just a moment, she had let herself get caught up in the fantasy of a handsome cowboy and the thought that men in Montana might be different. What a crock.

  Either he was just being nice and she wasn’t used to this small-town neighborly attention, or he really had been flirting with her. Which made him a jerk for flirting around while he had a wife and baby at home. Either way, she felt humiliated, standing there in an old robe and dusty pink cowboy boots. “I’m going back to bed. I’ve had enough excitement for one night.”