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Chapter 6

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So much for a weekend off.

Mitchell ended the phone call and looked at his watch. Not even eight o’clock in the morning. He hadn’t slept well because his dreams had been inhabited by Hope Rossi. He sighed as he swung his legs out of bed and pulled on his work overalls. It would be a long day if he couldn’t stop thinking about her. At least a call out to a calving cow would keep his mind occupied.

Since taking over the clinic, he could count on the fingers of one hand how many work-free weekends he’d enjoyed. Today he’d been looking forward to working on his house and maybe even going for a surf later if the weather held out. Although it was cold, the sun was out, and it would be warmish in the water. He glanced out his bedroom window at the ocean. The water was a soft, dreamy green and the waves were textbook perfect for surfing. Disappointment seeped in, but he pushed it aside.

The call he’d just taken was from an anonymous Good Samaritan about a cow in labour. The woman said she’d been driving past a local farm and spotted a cow in difficulty. His was the only clinic with a 24-hour emergency phone number which is why the call had come through to him on his day off.

Some days he regretted his decision to be available all times of the day and night, but it was better than knowing an animal might be in pain for hours until the clinic opened at eight. At least he didn’t have to go back into town to get any equipment. Since the first time he’d been called out and discovered how unprepared he was, he’d kept his Jeep well stocked and ready to tackle any potential situation that might arise.

After making a few phone calls he worked out who owned the cow. Len Bennett. A cantankerous old bugger who didn’t take kindly to people sticking their nose in his business. Great. This would be interesting.

As he backed out of the garage, he saw Jordan’s car coming down the driveway. He waited until Jordan pulled alongside him then wound down his window.

‘Where are you off to so early?’ Jordan asked.

‘I’m heading out to see a man about a cow in labour. Wanna come?’

‘Now?’ Jordan stared longingly towards the water for a second and Mitchell followed his gaze, knowing how he felt.

‘All right. Why not? Wasn’t planning on doing much else today other than seeing if you had time for a surf. But I guess the cow in labour can’t wait.’

Mitchell waited for Jordan to park his car and grab his jacket. When he jumped into Mitchell’s car, Mitch took off with a spin of tyres on the gravel.

‘What’s the address?’ Jordan asked after closing the front gate and getting back in the car.

Mitchell gave him the address and Jordan entered it into the GPS.

‘Should take about half an hour I reckon,’ he said.

Twenty-five minutes later they pulled down a long gravel driveway. There was no sign of the Good Samaritan or her car. No doubt she was a tourist on her way somewhere, but at least she’d called it in.

In the distance, a man waved his red plaid shirt in the air to get Mitchell’s attention. Mitchell headed towards the open gate. The closer they got, the more he had to stifle a laugh. Len Bennett’s naked, hairy chest was blinding in the pale sunlight. His belly hung over a thick leather belt which held up a pair of cut-off faded denim jeans and he had thongs on his feet. Hardly appropriate farm attire and certainly not appropriate given the fact the temperature was less than ten degrees.

Mitchell drove through the gate, pulled on the handbrake, and hit the button to open his window. Len shuffled across, his face flushed as if he’d been running a marathon. His pupils were dilated, and the stench of alcohol blew into the cabin of the car.

‘Lucky neither of us smoke,’ Jordan muttered from the passenger seat.

‘You the vet doc?’ Len asked.

‘That’s right. Mitchell Davis.’

‘Youz kind of young,’ Len slurred.

Mitchell was used to hearing that. ‘I’m nearly forty but I guess some people would consider me young.’ Some people like Len who looked almost three times Mitchell’s age.

Len spat on the ground. ‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist. Bein’ young is good. I was young once too. I was worried old Ian would show up. He’d blow over in a stiff breeze.’ He put his arm up to lean into the side of Mitchell’s truck and missed, dropping to one knee in the mud.

Mitchell put a hand on the door handle, ready to spring into action. Speaking of blowing over. Who was the patient? The man or his cow? He and Jordan exchanged a look.

‘You okay?’ Jordan asked.

Coughing and spluttering, Len righted himself and brushed muddy hands down the legs of his already filthy pants.

‘You seem a little unsteady,’ Mitchell said as he got out of the car.

‘I’m fine.’ Len waved a hand in Mitchell’s direction. ‘Got this blood pressure problem, that’s all. Anyways, why you here again?’

Mitchell glanced at Jordan again before he turned back to Les. ‘Someone called and said you have a cow in labour.’

Len spat on the ground again. ‘Oh, yeah. She’s out there in the paddock. Calf’s half stickin’ out of her. Amazing she can still walk. But I warn youz. She’s a mean bitch. We’ll have to rope ‘er.’

Mitchell looked at Jordan’s face and tried to stifle his laughter.

‘I did not sign up for this,’ Jordan said through gritted teeth. Just remember I work with humans, not animals.’

Mitchell shrugged. ‘Stay in the car if you want. I would hate to see you get hurt.’

Jordan flipped him the bird along with a grin as he got out of the car. ‘You know me, always up for something new. How hard can this be? I’ve delivered dozens of babies.’

Mitchell smiled. Giving Jordan a challenge worked every time. ‘Come on. Let’s get this over with so we can go for a surf.’

They headed over to Len, who was now leaning against a timber post and rail fence, sweat pouring down his face.

Jordan frowned at him. ‘You sure you’re okay?’ he asked.

Len ignored him and turned to Mitchell. ‘You ever roped a cow, son?’

‘Once or twice,’ Mitchell lied.

Jordan spluttered and Mitchell flashed him a look.

‘Yeah right. Did they teach that in vet school?’ Jordan muttered. ‘I’ll bet you don’t have a clue how to catch a cow. You certainly don’t know how to catch a woman.’

Mitchell returned the bird and grabbed his bag from the back of his truck. ‘Come on,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘Let’s go rope ourselves a cow.’

‘No need,’ Len said. ‘I was a champ in me day. I’ll rope ‘er. Youz go on ‘round back of ‘er and get her headed me way.’ He picked up a rope off the ground and began winding it into large loops in his calloused hands. Despite his attire and the alcoholic haze haloing around his head, he seemed to know what he was doing so Mitchell didn’t intervene.

‘You heard the man, mate,’ Jordan said, tipping his imaginary cowboy hat. ‘Come on. Let’s go find this cow.’

They made their way into the paddock, walking slowly in a wide loop so they ended up behind the cow without frightening her.

‘Jeez, are they legs hanging out of her?’ Jordan asked when they got close enough. His tone had switched from humour to concern.

Mitchell turned to him. He looked pale. ‘Do not tell me you’re going to faint.’

‘I’ll be right,’ Jordan assured him.

Mitchell clapped his hands and the cow started moving towards Len, much faster than Mitchell expected given her current situation. When she lowered her head and rushed towards Len, a gory scenario flashed before Mitchell’s eyes. ‘Watch out, Len,’ he shouted. The last thing they needed was for anyone to get hurt.

Eyes closed, Len spun the rope in slow circles above his head. He looked like he was in a trance.

Mitchell shouted again and whether it was luck, divine intervention, or the cow responding to his shouts, she turned in the nick of time, missing Len by a whisker as she shot through the gate into the smaller holding yard near the barn. To Mitchell’s astonishment, Len was as good as he promised. He threw the rope and managed to snag her on the first attempt.

‘Fluke,’ said Jordan, behind him.

Mitchell cursed. The rope was too long. Long enough for the cow to gain another full head of steam. With the rope around her neck and a drunk guy attached to the end of it, she flashed angry eyes at all of them.

Because of Len’s slow thinking processes, impaired reaction time and bad judgment, he waited until the cow reached the end of the rope before he realised what was about to happen.

‘This is not going to end well,’ Jordan shouted.

He was right.

Mitchell and Jordan covered the distance between where they were standing at the gate and Len and the cow as fast as they could, but they weren’t fast enough. With a cartoon-like jerk, the cow somehow bucked which lifted Len’s body off the ground before she turned and headed straight for the open gates behind Mitchell and Jordan. Len resembled a water skier biting the waves headfirst as the cow dragged him along the ground except that he was biting weeds, grass and dung, not water. If the situation didn’t border on dangerous, Mitchell would have laughed at the absurdity of it.

‘Let go,’ he cried as the cow ran past, splattering them with mud and muck kicked up from her hooves as she hurtled by, her calf still hanging half out of her.

Len clung to the rope for dear life. Thankfully the cow didn’t go far, but as Mitchell and Jordan tried to corner her, she lashed out, kicking Jordan in the thigh. He swore loudly but stayed on his feet, arms spreadeagled so the cow didn’t run past again. Mitchell didn’t have time to stop and make sure he was okay.

Behind them, Len sprang to his feet with surprising agility for his age and drunkenness. Without a word he tossed Jordan the rope, ran towards the cow and launched himself into the air, landing with a thud on the poor animal’s back. She bellowed as he knocked the wind out of both himself and the cow.

Jordan winced. ‘That’s gotta hurt.’

‘Ten out of ten for execution though,’ Mitchell said. ‘Grab the rope and let’s make sure she doesn’t get away.’ He needn’t have bothered. The cow had given up her fight. Mitchell quickly examined her, running his hands over her body and legs. She seemed unhurt. He wasn’t so sure how the calf had fared.

‘I don’t know if this calf will be alive,’ he told Les.

‘Yeah, wondered that m’self.’

Jordan limped over to the fence and stood, catching his breath.

‘You okay?’ Mitchell called out to him.

‘Not sure. She got me in the thigh. It’s bleeding.’ Jordan unbuckled his jeans, dropped them, and swore. ‘Made a nasty mess.’

‘Well, unless you’ve nicked an artery, I’m a bit busy here,’ Mitchell said. ‘Sorry,’ he added. He flicked his head towards the truck. ‘There’s a first aid kit in there. Bandage it up and we can check it out later.’

‘No wonder you work with animals, not people,’ Jordan grumbled. ‘Your bedside manner sucks.’

‘I don’t think my cow friend here cares about my bedside manner.’ Mitchell pulled on the long rectal glove and approached the cow from the side.

‘You are not going to do what I think you’re going to do,’ Jordan said, eyes wide, mouth agape.

‘Absolutely. And I’m going to need your help. Either take over from Len and keep the cow’s head still or hold her tail out of the way.’

‘No wonder I chose human medicine.’

The cow flicked her tail and rocked from side to side, mooing loudly.

‘Give me a sec.’

‘All the time in the world,’ Mitchell said, rolling his eyes.

It took Jordan a while to sort himself out before he came and took position at the side of the cow. He held her tail to one side and turned his head away.

‘God that’s gross,’ he said as Mitchell slid his entire arm into the cow’s birth canal.

‘How bad is your leg?’ Mitchell asked, looking back over his shoulder with his arm still inside cow.

‘I think it’ll need stitches.’ Jordan flicked a look at the cow. ‘Can you pay attention to what you’re doing please? Forget about me.’

A flash of concern rippled down Mitchell’s back. He couldn’t forget about Jordan. If his leg was bad enough to need stitches, then it was bad. He should have taken more care to make sure Jordan was out of harm’s way. ‘Can it wait or do want me to check it out?’

‘It can definitely wait,’ Jordan said. ‘The bandage will stop the bleeding. I’ve had far worse injuries than this over the years. Besides, you’re not touching me after you’ve had your whole arm in there. I’d sooner stitch myself up blind with a blunt sewing needle and no anaesthetic.’

Mitchell’s concern for his friend evaporated. He twisted his head again to look at Jordan and grinned. ‘Promise I’ll wash my hands first.’

‘Bloody hope so. After this I don’t think I’m ever going to shake your hand again.’

‘What’s Len doing?’ Mitchell asked. From this angle, he couldn’t see him.

Jordan checked and threw his head back in laughter. ‘You’re not going to believe it. He’s fallen asleep.’

Mitchell shook his head. ‘I tell you, I can’t make this stuff up.’

*

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‘How much longer do you think you’ll be?’ Jordan asked ten minutes later.

‘Hard to say. Once I’ve delivered the calf I’ll hang around and make sure it’s okay and feeding properly. And it doesn’t look like Len is about to wake up anytime soon. I probably should stick around and make sure he’s okay too.’

‘You right if I take your Jeep? I’ll head back to town to the clinic and see if the nurse is around and get her to help me fix my leg.’

‘Told you. I’m happy to look. I’ve got a suture kit in the back of the truck.’

Jordan held up two hands. ‘Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll dash home, then I’ll send Liz to come out and pick you up if I have to go into Warrnambool to the hospital.’

‘She won’t mind?’

Jordan beamed. ‘It’s called love. She’ll do whatever I ask.’

‘I don’t know how she puts up with you.’

‘It’s because I’m charming and irresistible and incredibly good looking.’

‘If you say so.’

More likely Elizabeth stayed with Jordan because he was a doctor. Poor Jordan didn’t have the best track record with women. He might give Mitchell a hard time about his love life, but Jordan’s wasn’t much better.

‘Keys are in the ignition. Drive carefully. You know how much I love that car.’

Mitchell watched Jordan limp back to his car. Hopefully his leg wasn’t too bad, but right now he couldn’t afford to be thinking about that. He had a little unborn calf who needed him more than his mate did.