“I should probably…” She flexed her fingers.
Duchess snorted, stomped, and swung her butt in the other direction so fast she nearly knocked Becca over.
Becca shoved her back where she’d been with a shoulder to her rump. “Stop that, or you’ll never have it out.”
The cow grumbled, but she quit moving.
“You have a way with animals. You always did.”
“Hence the DVM after my name.”
Becca inserted her hand where it had been earlier, closed her eyes, appeared to listen. Her forehead crinkled. “I can just get my fingers around a hoof, but when I pull—” She gritted her teeth, braced her legs and—“Dammit.”
She stepped back and stuck her hand in the bucket of water, washing with more enthusiasm than was probably necessary. Though maybe not considering where that hand had been. She paced over to Owen, head down, muttering, then to the bucket, then over to Owen again.
“If I don’t get that calf out soon, I could lose it and the mother.”
“Why are you whispering?”
She glanced at the cow, which was staring at them both. “No reason.”
She laid a palm on the animal’s side. “Relax.” She stroked the heaving rump. “I haven’t been in labor. I don’t know. I’m sure it isn’t easy.”
Why did it seem as if she were answering the cow’s questions? Probably because Owen was so tired he could almost hear them.
“What?” she asked.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Shh!” She set her cheek against the animal’s side, spread her fingers along the rib cage, closed her eyes again, breathed in, out, in. Then she straightened as if she’d been goosed. “They’re stuck.”
She returned to the rear end. “They’re stuck.” Joy sparked in her eyes. “Not one in there but two.”
As dawn tinted the sky, twin calves teetered on spindly legs while Duchess licked them all over.
“They’re beautiful,” Owen said.
You’re beautiful, he thought.
This was why he’d left. So she could become Dr. Rebecca Carstairs, DVM. It was what she’d wanted. What she’d dreamed of. What she was meant to be.
And if he’d stayed, she never would have been anything but his.
Chapter 7
By the time Emerson arrived to do the milking, the twins were having breakfast.
“Two,” he said as proudly as if they were his doing. “Both heifers. Thanks.”
I nodded. Too tired and hungry and happy to say anything.
I’d been at a loss as to what was wrong, panicked that I was going to lose my first cow and calf. It happened, but it hadn’t yet happened to me, and I wanted to keep it that way.
Was that why I’d “heard” the little voice say: We’re stuck!
When I reached back in, I’d found the same hoof I’d been tugging, but this time I ran my fingers up the leg until I found the chest, a head, and then another head. I’d disentangled them like a reverse jigsaw puzzle and guided them both into the dawn. I hadn’t needed any help from Owen or the calf chains after that. Duchess did most of the work.
Quite obviously the hint had been my subconscious adding all the things my hands and eyes and ears and brain had gathered into a solution and projecting that solution into the “voice” of one of the twins. Did it really matter how I’d figured out the problem so long as I had?
My gaze went to Duchess and her girls. They wouldn’t think so.
Owen was nowhere to be seen. Emerson opened the back door and allowed the housewives into the barn for morning milking. I lifted my hand in good-bye and hurried out the other door before I “heard” any more from them.
I was half afraid Owen had left me to find my own ride. That would be rude; then again, I hadn’t expected him to stay all night. But he sat behind the wheel, engine idling. As I emerged, he whistled.
Reggie bounded out of the tall grass and onto the seat. He was moving a lot easier than he’d been last night. Animals were like that. Around me, they were like that a lot.
I climbed in too, and we were off. We weren’t even to the top of the long driveway when my phone vibrated. I groaned. All I wanted was food, a shower, and a few hours of sleep, in that order. However, if duty called I had no choice but to answer.
I glanced at the text message. “Hallelujah!”
“Win the lottery?”
“Better. My mom made waffles.”
Owen reached the road but didn’t pull out. I pointed in the direction of the farm. “That way.”
“I know which way. Don’t you want me to drop you at your apartment so you can get your car?”
“I want waffles ten minutes ago. If you have somewhere to be at…” I glanced at my phone again. “Seven A.M. one of the boys can take me home.”
“I don’t but I … uh…”
“You know my mom. She made enough to feed you too.” And probably most of the French Foreign Legion, though once my brothers got done, the Foreign Legion would be eating scraps. “The least I can do after all your help is make sure you have breakfast.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
Laughter spurted. “That’s exactly how you always said it.”