He’s kneeling next to the calf, wiping muck off its face. The mother cow is licking the baby’s back legs, but it’s not having any effect that I can see.
I think my heart has turned into a lump of iron, it feels so heavy in my chest. The baby definitely looks dead. “Oh my god,” I whisper as it settles into my brain that I could be witnessing the death of a newborn baby. “No, no, no, no, nooo!” I sound like I’m crying. I can’t get there fast enough. It’s like one of those nightmares where I have to run in deep water. “Ian! I’m coming!”
I face-plant into the snow, landing on the towels. Getting up as quickly as I can, I take them into my arms again, letting the bottom one drop a little so I can try and shake off the snow that’s clinging to it.
As I get closer to the cow it becomes easier to walk. The animals have trampled down the ground and turned it mostly to muck. But now I’m afraid there’s a bull around ready to hook me with his horns.
“Come on, stop dinking around!” Ian’s waving me over with his arm going in big circles.
“Where are the bulls?”
“There are no bulls out here, they’re all cows. Come on!”
I see some horns, but instead of arguing, I run over with tiny steps, trying to minimize my chances of biting the dust again. Ian grabs the top towel from my arms as soon as I’m close enough and starts rubbing the calf all over with it.
“Come on, do it,” he demands. “Rub!”
I drop the towels on the ground and take one, moving over to the other side of the baby cow. “Just rub?” I ask, moving closer.
“Rub. Stimulate her. Wake her up.”
I put the towel on her butt and start rubbing. Tears are sliding down my cheeks as I feel her lifeless body wiggle beneath my hands. “She’s a girl?” I ask. All I can think about is baby Sarah in the hospital.
“Yeah, she’s a girl, I think. Come on, girl, wake up. Wake up. Breathe, you can do it.”
I start rubbing with two hands. Her little body squishes around with our combined movements. “Come on, baby cow, wake up!” I say, trying to talk around my tears. “Don’t you dare die. No cows die on my watch, you hear me! No cows die!”
The mother lets out a moo that just breaks my heart. She leans down, takes one more lick of the baby, and then walks away.
“She’s leaving!” I cry, freaking out over the idea.
“Just keep rubbing,” Ian says, focusing on the baby.
I crawl in the mud and snow up to the calf’s head and rub around its ears and eyes and nose. “Come on baby, cow. Don’t you dare die.”
Then a flash of memory comes to me, and I pause as I consider it. There was this guy once on Youtube and this baby deer that needed resuscitation on the side of the road …
I grab the cow’s head and turn it to look up at me. “Might as well give it a try,” I say to no one in particular. Clamping the calf’s mouth closed, I lean down, preparing to lock my lips to its nostrils.
“What in the sam hill are you doing?” Ian asks, ceasing his rubbing.
I don’t look up at him, all my attention focused on the disgusting good deed I’m about to do for this ranch. They’d better appreciate it, that’s all I can say.
“I’m going to give it CPR.”
Before Ian has a chance to respond, the calf’s body bucks up in some kind of seizure, and a big glob of something warm hits me in the face.
I’m suddenly blinded, afraid to open my eyes. Whatever it was she projectile vomited begins to slide down my forehead.
“That’s-a girl!” Ian yells, his voice full of joy. He claps me on the back several times. It makes me burp once. I would probably care enough to respond if I could open my eyes, but I can’t see a thing. My eyes, nose and mouth are covered in what I can only assume are cow loogies.
“Oh … Jesus Mary and Joseph …,” Ian says in a low voice.
And then he starts to laugh.
Keeping my eyes closed, I spit out everything that’s anywhere near my mouth and say in a very calm voice. “Ian. Get me a towel.”
Chapter Seventeen
“SO WHAT YOU’RE SAYING IS that you stay here in Baker City because there’s always a chance that you’ll be covered in cow loogies.” I nod as I use the only remaining non-disgusting towel to remove crud from my hair. I’m sitting in the front seat of the truck and we’re headed back to the ranch. “Yeah. I can see why you don’t move away. Who’d want to miss that?”
“Don’t try and lie and say that you’re not happy as a pig in mud right now.” Ian’s poo-eating grin is almost unbearable. Almost.
I look over my shoulder at our back seat passenger. “I’m not saying anything about anything.” The little black heifer is blinking her eyes, looking at me. It’s like she knows she goobered on me and it somehow connects us. We’ve bonded on an elemental level. Maternal feelings I’ve never had before well up in me.
For a cow.
I must be crazy.
I turn to look out the windshield so I won’t get suckered into anything dangerous. “So where to now?”
“We’ve got to get her back to the barn. Bottle feed her.”
“Are you serious?” I look at him to see if he’s laughing at me. “Why not just leave her out there with her mother?” I saw all those other babies out there. Seems like it wasn’t too dangerous. They looked happy.
“I can’t be sure the mother’s going to take care of her or that one of the other cows will adopt her, and she’s too little to fend for herself.”
I look back again at the beautiful long eyelashes that are just starting to show as the goop around them dries. “You mean … she might die? After all we did to wake her up?”
“Nah, we won’t let her die.” He pats me on the leg. “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.”
I give up trying to ignore her and stare at her the rest of the way back to the ranch. She really is pretty beautiful, especially as she dries out. Her fur is all black except for a small white star shape on her forehead.
Ian parks the truck next to a big barn and slides her out of the back seat, taking her in his arms and bringing her inside. There’s a stall with some straw in it, and he lies her down there, taking the ropes off her legs that he said were necessary to keep her from trying to stand up in the truck. He closes us inside with her.
“Go ahead, little Candy, try and stand up now. You can do it.” He nudges her with his boot as he steps back.
“Candy?”
He looks at me and grins. “Yeah. Pretty cute, right?”
“You named a cow after me?”
He shrugs. “You mad at me for it?”
My emotions are a whirlwind. This is completely crazy. I can’t tell if he means it as an insult or a compliment but I feel like crying with happiness.
In the end, the little cow baby standing up and wobbling around on her spindly legs wins me over. “No, I’m not mad.” I cannot wipe the smile off my face.
Ian leaves me there to ogle her. She appears unsteady for a while but then she starts acting like an expert cow. It doesn’t take long before she looks like she’s ready to try running. Cows are way more coordinated than humans, apparently.
“Here,” Ian says, bumping me on the arm with a big white plastic thing that has a giant brown nipple on it. “Give her some of this.”
I stare at it and then him. He doesn’t look like he’s messing with me. “Seriously?”
“Yep. It’s all on you. Feed her and she lives. Don’t and she dies.”
My jaw drops open. “Harsh!”
“That’s life on the ranch.” He leaves me there holding the bottle.
I look at Candy and she looks at me.
“You want some of this?” I ask her.
She takes a couple steps in my direction and stops. I take one towards her and stop, holding it out.
She touches her nose on the end of it and bumps it. I almost drop it.
I giggle. “Hey. Easy, little girl. Don’t be so pushy.”
She walks close
r and I hold onto the bottle with two hands. “Easy does it,” I say.
A big tongue comes out and swipes at it.
Wow. That’s a long tongue.
I hold it steady, ready for anything. I hope she’s not going to loogie on me again, but if she decides to I’ll probably let her. I’m her momma now.
She opens her mouth, takes the end of it, and then it’s a tug-of-war between us. She slurps and sucks and goobers all over the place as she drinks every last drop. I feel so proud, like I’m the one doing everything.
When she’s done, she dances around in the straw, even kicking up her back legs a little, only falling twice. She couldn’t possibly be any cuter. I cannot stop staring at her. I wonder if they’ll let me sleep out here with her tonight. I probably should. Don’t babies need to eat every couple hours?
“You ready to head out again?” Ian’s hanging over the top of the stall door, looking at me.
It takes a few seconds for me to get my head out of the clouds. “Huh … what? Out? Out where?”
“I’ve got to go do a headcount. If you’d rather stay …”
The idea of having Ian leave my side is unacceptable. Candy is sweet, but Ian is … sweeter. Plus he might need me to do CPR again. “Could there be more babies out there?”
“Possibly. You never know.”
I jump to my feet. “I’ll come.” I pause in the doorway. “See you later, Candy. Take a nap while I’m gone.”
I nearly melt when she turns a few circles and flops down in the straw.
Ian chuckles as we leave the barn.
“Don’t laugh at me,” I say, feeling self conscious. I try to toss my hair over my shoulder, and it’s then that I realize I still have cow goo stuck in it. Oh, how far I’ve fallen. If the girls at the salon could see me right now, they’d take pictures, Facebook them, and never let me forget it.
“I’m not laughing,” he says.
I look over and see the smile on his face. “What’s that grin all about then?”
“Nothin’.” He gets in the truck and leaves me to open my own door.
I sigh, knowing that there are things about Ian that are pretty much hopeless, but that one of them is not the fact that he’s a hunter. He can’t possibly enjoy killing animals … not when he gets so much joy bringing them to life. This makes me way happier than I have a right to be.
Chapter Eighteen
I FEEL LIKE AN OLD pro this time out in the truck. We bounce over rocks and ruts like it’s nothing. I don’t even have to hold onto the oh-shit handle up by the window anymore. All I can think about is Candy. She kind of looks like me, and her name couldn’t be more adorable. I’m like a rancher now.
Ian stops the truck and stares out into the field we were in earlier. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at the cows.
His sigh of frustration is the first sign that there might be something wrong. The second is when he bangs the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “Dammit!”
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“We’re missing one.”
“What?” I lean forward and look out the windshield. “A baby?”
“A pregnant cow. She might’ve gone off to have the calf somewhere, but I don’t see where she could be.” He opens his door a crack and looks at me. “I should’ve counted when we were out here before. Wait here. I’m going to see what I can find.”
“No way are you leaving me here!” I grab the handle of my door.
“It’s cold outside. If I need you, I’ll call.” He takes his phone out of his pocket. “Put your number in here.”
I do as he asks and then call myself with his phone, logging his number into my list of contacts.
“Okay, but call right away,” I say, hating the fact that he’s leaving and I’m staying. “I can bring towels and whatever you need.”
He winks at me as he takes his phone back. “Gotcha. Now stay out of trouble. I’ll be back soon.”
“If you’re not back in an hour I’m coming to find you.”
Ian looks up at the sky. “If I’m not back in a half hour, call my dad. I’ll text you the number.”
He leaves me there in the truck and when he’s around the corner out of sight my phone beeps. The text from Ian glows out from my screen.
Here’s my dad’s number. And remember. Stay in the truck, stay out of trouble.
I text him back. Ha. Like that’s going to happen.
He sends me back a smiley face, and I can’t stop grinning. I think we’re friends now. Why that makes me so deliriously happy, I can’t say. I have lots of friends, both men and women. I don’t really need any more, my funeral’s going to be standing room only as it is. But none of them have been able to make my blood boil one second and my panties get all twisted up the next. Not like Ian.
My mind wanders as I stare out at the white expanse before me. I’ve had a few boyfriends I might call serious. None that I’ve lived with, but two that I considered being with long-term. But for one reason or another, I always broke it off with them. It wasn’t a fight or a major upset that caused it. I guess I just got bored or restless. Andie says I need a man who can keep me guessing, keep me laughing, make me feel like I’ve met my match. She’s always said that one day I would meet him … my match, whatever that means.
I wonder if it could be Ian. That would be mighty inconvenient with him being here in the top left of the map and me being in the bottom right.
And if it could be him, is that what I’d want? He lives in the middle of cow patty central and I live in the city. He sleeps three hours a day and I need at least eight. He’s fashion challenged and I’m completely coordinated. I get the impression he’s not much into commitment now that he’s been burned, and I’m looking for that, especially now that I’ve seen Andie lying there in that bed with Sarah in her arms and Mack hanging over them.
I want that. I seriously, really truly do. For the first time in my life, I want to be part of something bigger than just my daily grind. I want a family I can call my own, people who will be waiting for me at home, who will celebrate with me and Google stuff with me and laugh at all the crazy things life has to offer with me.
I frown. The conclusion after examining all the evidence is that this relationship with Ian would be doomed from the start … if we were planning on getting serious. But that wouldn’t be the case if we were just going to have some fun, right? I mean, we could go out to that party, maybe on a couple actual dates, sleep together a few times … that wouldn’t ruin things. It would be fun. Then when my vacation is up, I’d leave.
Maybe we’ll email or text once in a while once I’m back home. And when I visit again, if he’s still single, we could have some more fun, pick up where we left off. Or maybe by then I’d have found my one true love and I’d be having babies. Ian could just be my friend then. A great memory of times gone by.
It’s like I’m convincing myself to be happy with this idea. I know for a fact I wouldn’t be okay with doing nothing, just ignoring him for the rest of my trip. Too much has happened between us for me to walk away like that. We just brought a baby cow back to life! But for us to someday be in a family together? No. Not realistic.
Sigh. Talk about a sad face.
It’s not like I really have a choice in the matter, though. Life is what it is and I just have to adapt.
I nod my head, officially making the decision. If Ian’s willing, we’re going to hang out, drink a little, dance a little, and get naked a little. And then I’ll go home and we’ll text a little. After that, I’ll focus on finding the guy who I can build a family with. My match.
A text comes over my phone, distracting me from my plan-making.
Don’t get out of the car. There’s a big cat nearby.
A cat? In my brain a picture of a giant Persian cat pops up. It looks exactly like my neighbor’s cat but bigger. Then I realize that Ian isn’t talking about an over-sized house cat and my heart seizes up.
I text back with a speed I’ve neve
r possessed before. How big?
Cougar size. Don’t get out of the truck.
Ack!
My fingers fly over the keypad. But you’re out there!
I’ll be fine. Stay in the truck.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god …” I stare at my phone. Ian’s out there with a fucking mountain lion and I’m inside the truck with my gun. I’m safe, but is he?
Do you have a gun? I ask.
No. Stay inside the truck.
Now he’s just pissing me off. Stop telling me to stay in the truck. I heard you the first time.
My phone beeps with his next message: Stay in the truck.
I dig through my purse and find Millie. Weighing her in my hands, I stare out the window. My heart is racing and so is my mind. Ian’s out there without a weapon. A cow is missing. There’s a cougar out there too. And how does Ian know it’s out there? Did it eat the cow? Did he see footprints? Is he staring it down right this very second?
I put the gun on the seat and pick up my phone. How do you know it’s a cougar? I ask.
I wait precious seconds for an answer that doesn’t come.
Ian?
My hands start shaking.
Ian, that’s not funny. Answer me.
Nothing comes. No beep, no text, no nothing. I crawl over to his side of the car and look out his window, shaking all over. Snow is starting to fall, obscuring my view. The cows I could see before are now veiled. I can’t see very far down the road behind us anymore either.
Ian, so help me, if you don’t answer this text, I’m getting out of the truck.
I’m giving him ten seconds.
10…
9…
8…
7…
I’m not kidding, Ian. Don’t be a dick.
6…
5…
4…
I’m getting out!
3…
2…
Right now! I’m getting out!
1.
He’d better be fighting off a cougar right now, that’s all I have to say. I zip my coat up, put on my borrowed gloves, grab my gun, and throw open my door.