“I’ll help you,” I said.
“No, stay. I’ll come get you when I’m ready. I think the boys like having an audience.” She nodded in their direction and I followed her gaze. Ian was flexing his right arm, trying to get his brother to compare biceps with him. Mack just shook his head and turned away.
I nodded, not even looking at Maeve, fascinated for some strange reason by the scene in front of me. Four cowboys - make that three cowboys and one wookie - were gathered inside a pen that had a calf running around in it, kicking up his heels. The little guy was apparently very happy now that he was free of their squeezy machine, even though he’d left his testicles behind. Ian was still flexing, now with his other arm. Mack was shaking his head, laughing a little. Boog and Angus were talking quietly about something. If I had a camera I would have shot fifty photos of them right there. It was like the cover of a magazine. The article would read: Ranching life in the heart of the mountain valley of Baker City, Oregon … Idyllic. I lifted my eyes to the peaks that surrounded the city. They were majestic, barely visible now in the waning light.
Chapter Twenty-Four
THE BABY CALF WANDERED OVER in my direction and stopped at the fence, interrupting my thoughts. His big brown eyes stared out at me and locked onto mine. I couldn’t have looked away if I’d wanted to. But I didn’t want to. He was beautiful. Looking for signs of distress, I saw none. I held out my hand, wanting badly to touch his forehead but a little afraid. Maybe he’d jerk his head really hard and moo at me and make me wet my pants.
A long pink tongue snaked out of its mouth and licked my finger.
“Oh my god,” I said, laughing a little over being taken by surprise. It felt like the roughest sandpaper in the world. “Aren’t you a bold little monster.”
He pumped his head up and down several times as if nodding and happily agreeing with me. His long eyelashes made him look like a pretty little girl cow.
I grinned, rubbing his wet pink nose with my hand. His tongue came out and grabbed my index finger, pulling it into his mouth. I gasped, thinking I was about to lose my dialing finger to Jaws, the killer calf, when he began to suck on it instead. He was sloppy and loud and had a hell of a strong suction going for him, making me wonder if it was possible to get a hickey on a fingertip.
“Cute little bugger, isn’t he?” asked Mack.
“Yeah. He’s sucking my finger like it’s a cow’s udder.” I laughed a little at the ridiculousness of it. The calf didn’t miss a beat. He was way too happy about the idea of finding some milk in my hand to worry about the big bad cowboy coming up behind him.
“They’re like little pigs. They’ll eat all day if you let ‘em.” He pushed the calf’s head away and my finger came out with a pop.
I looked down at it and saw it was covered in calf drool. Some of my good humor evaporated. “Ew. That was a bad idea, I think.”
Mack pulled a bandana out of is back pocket and laid it flat in his hand. He grabbed my wet finger and slowly pulled the soft blue cloth down, drying it off. “Hungry and messy. Every last one.”
I wanted to come up with something funny to say, to respond in a way that was both cool and casual. But I couldn’t, because he was touching me. Even that little bit of cloth between us wasn’t enough to keep the feelings from rising up to take over my common sense.
“We need to talk,” I said, sounding like someone was strangling me.
He was so close I could see the fine wrinkles in the skin around his eyes telling me he smiled a lot when I wasn’t around.
“We will,” he responded softly. Staring over the top rail at me, he put the bandana in his pocket while resting his other hand on the fence just inches from mine. My gaze dropped to the strong, sun-bronzed hand and thick fingers that were huge in comparison to mine. I became obsessed with the thought that I could shift my hand to the right just a little and touch him … if I was bold and stupid and willing to risk throwing my lifeplan in the garbage.
I closed my eyes and counted slowly to three, getting a grip on myself. My hand stayed where it was. I’ve been working on my lifeplan for way too long to throw it away so easily.
“When can we talk, do you think?” I pressed. “I really have to get going back home soon.” I was trying to choose between crying and smiling after the words came out. He was so close and yet so far. I shouldn’t even want him to be close, but I did and that was nothing but a recipe for disaster. Up until now I’d been thinking that the only thing standing in the way of me marrying Bradley was a piece of paper and a signature. Now I was starting to think it could be much more than that.