Chapter Two

Three weeks later.

 

Eli Carter plowed a hand through his hair and let go a steady stream of every curse he had in his vast arsenal, ending with an exasperated and wholly unsatisfying, “Fucking hell.”

It was followed by a low bellow of misery from the Hereford cow lying on the ground in front of him. She was in labor, and had been for several hours. Problem was, nothing was happening. By this point, it should be, and they were losing decent light as the sun began its slow slide behind the tree line. At least they’d managed to get her inside a corral near the new wooden barn they’d built to house feed, hay, equipment and supplies. The barrier kept the other animals out of their way, most importantly the two-thousand-pound bull roaming the pasture.

His youngest brother Sage said, “I think she’s agreein’ with you.”

Then his brother Fritz stated the obvious. “None of us have ever pulled a calf before. I don’t mind sayin’ I’m not comfortable doing it alone the first time.”

“Think dad knows how?” Sage asked.

“Nope,” Fritz said. “He’ll tell us quick like that he’s a farmer, not a cattleman.”

“And then remind us again we’re on our own in this undertaking. Guess that leaves no choice but to call Doc Haile,” Eli said, then grimaced in sympathy as another contraction hit the pregnant cow. Her uterine muscles tightened and rolled, pushing fluid out, but still no sign of the calf.

This was your idea, dumbass. You coaxed your brothers into this lofty endeavor. It’s your responsibility, now deal with the ugly downsides.

Eli had wanted to find something he could call his own, something he was genuinely good at doing. Something that brought him satisfaction outside of a cornrow or a hay field.

Fritz was the farm king. Give him a patch of dirt and a few seeds, and he could make anything grow and thrive. Ask him the best time to plant this or that and he’d give you the answer without batting an eye, just like their father. Sage was great with numbers and keeping the farm’s bookkeeping straight and tight, but he could also sketch ideas out on paper. Tell him you wanted to build a barn and in a few days, Sage would have a detailed, scaled drawing ready that rivaled a college-educated architect’s work, complete with a lumber list and cost down to the penny.

But Eli? Nothing. He could drive any piece of farm equipment ever made and had a reputation for being decent in the sack. Neither one of those was something to be particularly proud of at the end of the day. The sex might leave him smiling for a few hours, satisfied, but content and worthy? No.

And ever since he’d come back to an empty motel room and no sign of Bellamy a few weeks back, he’d been feeling more frustrated and confused than ever when it came to what he wanted from the opposite sex. She’d affected him like no woman had before, left him wanting more of everything from her, which was a foreign concept to Eli. She was bright, funny and quick with a comeback, not to mention so beautiful and sexy she’d stolen his ability to think from the moment he’d first spotted her at the rodeo.

When the cow huffed her discomfort again, he abandoned his inner grumbling and snatched his cell from the clip on his belt.

“You got Doc Haile’s number with you?” Fritz asked.

“I programmed it into my phone several weeks ago. Must’ve been a subconscious omen of what was to come.”

“Sad fact is, this won’t be the last one,” Sage said. “Might as well learn how for the next time.”

Eli thumbed through his contacts until he found Doc Haile’s name and number. A moment of panic hit him while he waited for the call to connect. What if the doc didn’t answer or was away on another work call? What then? Losing his first calf, and possibly the mother too, would leave a bad taste in his mouth. He didn’t need another reason to second-guess his decision to raise beef cattle.

“Haile Vet Practice,” said a female voice on the other end of the line.

He hadn’t expected a woman to answer. With Doc Haile’s advancing age, maybe he finally decided to hire extra help.

“This is Eli Carter. I have a cow in labor and she’s not progressing. I’m…not sure how to go about pulling the calf. Is Doc Haile available?”

There was a brief pause, then “You’re talking to her.”

At the snappy comeback, a memory ricocheted around in Eli’s brain. There was something familiar about the husky undertones in her voice…

“Do that again, Eli.”

His hand tightened around the phone. “Bellamy?”

Her muffled sigh more or less confirmed his suspicion before she started firing questions at him like blasts from a shotgun. “How long has she been in labor?”

Eli cleared his throat. “Since mid-afternoon.”

“Has she expelled the water bag yet?”

“Yes.”

“How long ago?”

“Half an hour, maybe a bit longer.”

“Has the calf presented itself at all?”

“No.”

“Do you have her penned up somewhere safe, away from the rest of the herd and well lit?”

“She’s inside a corral. There are lights on the outside of the barn, but we have moveable spotlights available too.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Before she could hang up, Eli said, “Don’t you need directions?”

“I know where it is.”

How? was on the tip of his tongue, but the tension was thick enough between them as it was, even through the phone. No sense ramping it up another notch when he was in dire need of her expertise. The last thing he wanted to do was poke at her to the point of aggravation.

“Thanks, Bellamy.”

She hung up without another word.

Eli stuffed his phone back in his pocket, ignoring his brothers’ curious stares, and walked toward the outer gate to wait for her. Standing there with his forearms draped across the cold metal, the full implications of their conversation sunk in.

Bellamy was in Serenity, working for Doc Haile.

No, she was the new and much improved Doc Haile. Talk about your blind luck. And if she could be at the barn in ten minutes, she was fairly close.

A shitload of questions rattled around in his skull, but of course, his wounded ego was the first to raise its hand. Why had she cut and run that morning? He’d left a note on the dresser saying he was going out for their breakfast and he’d be right back. Best he could recall, he didn’t do or say anything to give her the impression that he didn’t want more than just one night. Or that he regretted what they’d done. Regret never entered his mind, only profound disappointment at discovering an empty motel room.

At least he knew what she was doing behind the chutes at the rodeo—working. Huh. He’d never met a female large-animal vet before. But what had set her stomping off across that motel parking lot in search of a stiff drink? A rough day? A bad break-up? Had he been the rebound guy, available and eager to please? Wouldn’t be the first time he’d been a stand-in for someone else. Normally the notion didn’t bother him. In fact, he sort of preferred it. Easier to detach from those types of situations, walk away without a commitment for more. A quick tumble and he was out the door, everyone’s satisfied and nobody got hurt.

The thought of being a substitute for some other dude in Bellamy’s life made him uncomfortable. So did the idea of someone hurting her. Angry even.

Bright headlights cut through a dense, low-hanging fog rolling in across the pasture. The dampness in the air made the temperature feel cooler than it actually was, which they would more than likely appreciate once they started working up a sweat in a few minutes.

Eli unhooked the chain holding the gate closed and walked it backward so she could pull through, closing it behind her. She parked close to a narrow opening he’d left in the corral’s barrier of rolled steel panels and climbed out of her truck, a battered silver crew-cab four-wheel drive with several toolboxes mounted on the body and contact information printed across the doors and tailgate.

Seeing her again, even in the fading light, made his heartbeat quicken and his hands clench. Tonight she was dressed for business in faded jeans, brown work boots and a gray Henley, the sleeves shoved up to her elbows. The look suited her—no nonsense, determined and not afraid to get dirty. Prepared for it.

Her hair was lifted off her slender neck in a high ponytail. He could still remember how those strands of black silk felt sliding between his fingers, tickling his stomach, catching in the bristle on his jaw. The way she shuddered and sighed when he kissed her neck. Her eyes were the deep, rich green of a magnolia leaf in spring, expressive and faithless to their owner when she was turned-on, lying about her name or worrying over something.

And that body…

He hated to admit it, but he had a type when it came to women. He usually liked them curvy, bold and willing. Bellamy was reed-thin and toned, with soft golden skin. She possessed curves, but they were subtle and hidden beneath simple clothing. Her small breasts fit perfectly in the cup of his hands and they were extra sensitive to touch, even breath. When he’d kissed a slow path from hipbone to hipbone, her stomach muscles had quivered beneath his lips.

“Don’t stop.”

That night in Perry she’d been somewhat bold, but he could tell it wasn’t in her true nature to be overly flirty and daring. And although she’d been willing, he’d sensed her hesitancy, like she was trying hard not to think about what she was doing. Or making internal peace with what they were about to do—sleep together after knowing each other for only a few hours, a practice that came second nature to Eli.

He’d been an escape for Bellamy Haile, a respite from something plaguing her mind. He intended to find out what it was. With any luck, it would land him back in her bed again too. For right now though, he had to set all that curiosity and lust aside and focus on learning how to save the calf and its mother via Bellamy’s knowledge of veterinary medicine.

He watched her select items from various compartments on the truck, dropping them into a clean plastic bucket at her feet. When it appeared she was satisfied with what she’d chosen, he grabbed the handle before she could. Her even gaze skimmed him from chest to face, then she turned and he followed her into the corral, setting the bucket down near the struggling cow’s rump.

While he’d been out at the gate waiting, Fritz and Sage had been busy. Artificial light spilled across the corral and there was a bucket of clean water nearby in case Bellamy needed it. A halter and rope was attached to the cow’s head and tied off to the closest fence post.

“Bellamy, these are my brothers, Sage and Fritz.”

They shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you both,” she said, then turned her attention to the furry mother. She passed a hand across the animal’s broad hindquarter, murmuring softly, introducing herself there also, it seemed.

“Is this her first calf?”

“Yeah, and ours too,” Eli said. “When we bought them they were already bred, but the record books are immaculate.”

“That’s good. First timers can be tricky. Calving tends to take longer, however they generally give birth to smaller calves. The larger the cow grows, the bigger her calves will be. Males can run bigger than females, and that can cause difficult births too. Then there are sire issues. Some bulls just throw big calves. If you see this continuing to be a problem into next year, you might want to consider getting a different bull.”

Eli, Sage and Fritz nodded in understanding, hands braced on their hips, ready to do as she bid. Despite having read copious amounts of material about raising cattle, Eli appreciated all the practical input he could get. Hands-on was a much better learning tool than any book or article on the internet.

The entire time Bellamy talked, she’d been assembling her tools on a small plastic tarp.

“I’m going to talk as I go and y’all are going to help. Experience is the best way for you to learn, and if you have questions, ask them.” She handed each of them a pair of long plastic gloves. While they tugged them up to their biceps, she did the same, then added a pair of fitted latex gloves over hers. “The ideal way to do this is with the dam in a head chute so you can control her, but she seems fairly calm and exhausted, so I think we’ll be okay with the rope and halter. If there’s ever any doubt, put her in a chute so you can restrict her movement in case she gets spooked or agitated. Keep the noise levels down to a minimum. The less agitated she is, the better the birth will go. Timing is key here as well. If she’s expelled the water sac, the calf needs to be delivered soon after, but an hour is the benchmark. Longer than that and you risk losing it.”

The cow let out a low bellow and Bellamy patted her side. “I know it hurts, little momma.” She turned her attention back to them. “And that’s another thing—she feels pain just like we do. Be very gentle and careful in everything you do to her.”

Bellamy dropped to her knees behind the cow. “First thing we need to do is wash and disinfect her entire hind end. Nothing gets squirted inside of her, only the outside areas. It’s important that everything—you, her, your tools—are thoroughly disinfected. You don’t want to introduce any bacteria inside the birth canal.” She held up a bottle of disinfectant so they could read the brand name. “Most farm stores carry calving supplies. If you can’t find what you need, ask me and I’ll order it for you.”

Eli and his brothers hung on every word, catalogued every action.

Once she had the cow’s rump cleaned, she picked up another bottle, wrestling with a grin. The grin won. “Lube is imperative. Use as much as you think you need then add more. It can only help the process along. Petroleum jelly will work in a pinch, but never use soap.”

She slicked up her gloves before pouring her hand full and smearing it on the cow’s vulva. “Next, you’re going to gently insert your hand into her vagina. Cow parts are the same as girl parts, boys.” Sage snickered. “They’re just bigger and aligned a little differently, but it’s basically the same principal as when your mother gave birth to you. The cervix has to dilate enough to allow the calf to enter the birth canal. If she’s not dilating naturally after several hours, and especially after she’s expelled the water sac, you can help her along manually by carefully manipulating the cervix back.”

Bellamy paused for a moment while she assessed that part of the cow. “She’s fully dilated. Now I’m going to feel for the calf, see if it’s in the proper birth position, which is forelegs and head first. The feet should present themselves just before the head. Sometimes they get one leg forward and one back, or both legs back. In those instances, you want to push the calf’s head back and straighten the forelegs if you can. Any other presentation and you need to call the vet until you get some experience with it.”

She bit her lip as she felt for the calf. “The baby’s in the right position, I think it’s just the size that’s giving her trouble.” The cow mooed, making Bellamy chuckle. “We’re telling you, huh, Momma?”

“Now it’s your turn. Whoever wants a go, lube up.”

Eli dropped to his knees beside her and coated his gloved hand.

“Remember—be gentle.”

Bracing one hand on the cow’s tailbone, he eased the other inside. It wasn’t as weird or gross as he imagined, just different. The process, her knowledge and calm demeanor, it all fascinated him and made him more eager to learn as much as he could.

“You’ll feel a thicker area of tissue lining the walls several inches in.”

“I feel it.”

“That’s the cervix. It gets thinner as she dilates. There should be very little resistance against your closed fist. Now push your hand a little farther until you feel the hooves.”

Eli smiled when his fingers touched the hard, sharp ends of the small hooves. “Got them.”

“Farther back, you should feel its nose. Don’t poke at it too much.” When he nodded, she said, “Ease your hand out.”

Another strong contraction hit the cow, making her grunt and stir on the ground. Bellamy grabbed a set of chains. “I think we need to go ahead and attach these and start pulling since the feet haven’t appeared yet. I’ll show you the proper way to loop them around the legs once we get the calf out. If you don’t have a set of pull chains, you can use rope, but make sure it’s not twine or anything thin that can cut into the skin of the calf.”

Something prompted Bellamy to speed up, though they hadn’t been dawdling at all. Eli scooted back so she had plenty of room to work. When she had the chains secured, she waited until they’d stripped off the slick gloves, then handed one chain to Eli and Fritz took the other.

“This part is very important too. Never snatch the chains and never use a tractor or a truck for pulling. You apply steady pressure, working with the cow’s contractions. When she pushes, you pull, first one leg, then the other, like you’re walking the calf out. If there’s just one of you, it’s okay if you’re not able to do it that way, but always keep the chains taut. Don’t let the infant slip back inside. You’re going to pull in alignment with the cow’s spine or slightly upward until the head and shoulders are exposed. Once that happens, you’ll need to stop and turn the calf ninety degrees in either direction so the hips fit easily through the birth canal. It also helps to start pulling down toward the cow’s hocks at that point. You can use your hands to aid the process along, but again, lube up and be gentle. Ready?”

Sitting on their asses in the dirt, legs splayed, chains in hand, Eli and Fritz nodded.

“Fritz, you’re left, and Eli is right. Let’s go left first.”

When the next contraction hit, they began to work, following her instructions as they went. Once the small hooves slid out, she quickly explained how she’d attached the chains and the proper position for them on the calf’s forelegs. Eli was moved by how patient she was being in doling out details. After all, a vet charged for their services, and telling someone else how to do her job could cut her out of some business. She didn’t seem to mind though, and the teaching part came naturally to her.

The entire process felt like it took hours, but in reality, it only lasted about thirty minutes, start to finish. Sweat trickled down Eli’s spine, soaking the cotton of his shirt. He could see the fine sheen of perspiration on Bellamy’s skin too, the determination etched into her pretty features. She’d bitten her bottom lip until it was swollen and red.

One last contraction-tug combo and the calf slipped free of its mother, landing on the scattered hay in a slimy, white-and-russet lump. Bellamy removed the chains and poked a gloved finger inside each nostril to clear the amniotic fluid from its nose. The calf didn’t move.

Eli swallowed hard and glanced up at Bellamy’s face. Her forehead was creased. She lifted a shoulder to wipe a trickle of sweat from her cheek, chest rising and falling with her deep breaths.

Silence hovered between them for a few heartbeats before Sage blurted, “Is it dead?”

 

Panic swelled in Bellamy’s chest. Her mouth went dry as cotton.

Please don’t let it be dead. Not Eli’s first.

She grabbed a piece of hay and tickled the calf’s pale nose. It wobbled its head back and forth then its long gray tongue slowly retracted inside its mouth. A collective sigh of relief gusted from all four of them at the first signs of life from the infant.

Bellamy inspected the cow’s birth canal for any tears or excess bleeding. Satisfied the young mother was okay, she stood, stripped off her gloves and started gathering up her supplies. Eli took the chains from her hands, rinsing them off in the clean water before dropping them inside the plastic bucket she’d brought along. Tomorrow she’d give them a thorough scrubbing and disinfecting before stowing them away for the next use.

The cow shifted and staggered to her feet. Bellamy breathed a relieved sigh over that too, because occasionally paralysis did occur. Momma turned and nosed her baby a few times, then began to lick it clean, the natural maternal stimulation rousing the calf from its birth stupor.

“Good girl,” Bellamy murmured. “She should expel the afterbirth within a few hours. If she hasn’t by this time tomorrow, call me and I’ll come check her over again. I’d give her some feed and water, let them spend the night in here, then turn them loose in the morning.”

They stepped out of the corral to give cow and calf the bonding time they needed without the stress of humans hovering. Bellamy reached for her bucket of supplies, but Eli was already carrying it to her truck. She didn’t follow. Instead, she used the guise of watching the newborn to avoid an awkward, inevitable conversation where he’d try to save face by making up some lame excuse as to why he’d bolted so her feelings wouldn’t be hurt. Her feelings were just fine.

“Do we have a boy or a girl?” Fritz asked from beside her.

Bellamy glanced at Eli’s brother, noting his profile matched Eli’s almost perfectly. Appearance-wise, they were a lot alike. Eli’s hair was longer, but the same rich shade of dark chocolate, and he was taller too, by a few inches. Sage’s hair was several shades lighter and he was stockier than his brothers, but in no way could he be considered overweight. All three of them were as handsome as the day is long. She wondered if they shared Eli’s magnetism, as well as his memorable skillset in bed.

“Girl,” Bellamy said.

Awareness flared when Eli slid in beside her to prop his arms across the top of the corral fence. He pushed the lower half of his face into the crook of his elbow and stared at her, gray eyes sharp and intent. Heat and the smell of the sweat on his skin drifted over her, making rebellious desire tighten her stomach. Damp strands of hair clung to the side of his neck. She wanted to push it out of the way, drag her tongue up that hot, tan slope. Taste the salt on his skin. Sink her teeth into his jaw and hear him make a hungry sound deep in his chest—the same one she’d had stuck in her head for three damn weeks.

When Sage spoke, she tore her gaze away.

“It’s our firstborn. We should name her.”

The adorable calf was making several wobbly attempts to rise to its feet. Momma had her almost clean now, its small white face damp and bright as freshly fallen snow. Herefords were a beautiful breed of cattle, with their creamy faces, rich russet coats and thick, muscled bodies. Angus was the most popular choice for beef production in the states, but Hereford ran a close second. They also tended to be one of the more docile breeds.

“It’s almost Halloween,” Fritz said. “We could call her Pumpkin.”

“Or Sugar,” Sage said.

“Maybe we should name her after the doc,” Fritz said, cutting her a sly smile.

Bellamy shook her head. “I vote for Pumpkin.”

“Clover,” Eli said. The decisive tone he used brooked no rebuttals from his brothers, whereas it made Bellamy’s heart pound against her breastbone like she’d run a marathon. Heat bloomed in her cheeks at the flash of carnal memories from that night.

Time to go.

She said her goodbyes and turned to leave. Except Eli followed her to the truck, bracing his hand on the doorframe so she couldn’t open the door. Bellamy leaned back against the cab and tried a preemptive approach. “Eli, I’m too tired to have this conversation right now.”

“What conversation would that be? The one where you explain why you disappeared that morning?”

Her spine stiffened defensively. “Me? When I woke up, you were gone.”

“I left a note on the dresser telling you I went for our breakfast and I’d be back in thirty minutes.”

“I didn’t see a note.” Did you look for one?

“Well, it was there, scratched out in pencil on a cheap motel notepad.”

She rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. Over Eli’s shoulder, his brothers were easing toward their respective trucks. They’d have questions for him tomorrow. “So you slept with the doc, eh? How was she?” Her stomach churned, thinking about those three used condoms. Bellamy didn’t want to be another notch on Eli’s bedpost, but it was too late. The wood had a fresh gouge.

“If you say you left a note, then I believe you. I’m sorry I didn’t see it, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.”

Frowning, he cocked his head. “Why wouldn’t it have mattered, Bellamy?”

“Because it was a one-time thing. I had no expectations going into it. I never thought we’d see each other again after that night.”

His face went void of expression. He drew a deep breath, dropped his hands to his lean hips, then huffed out a sharp, bitter laugh. “So this is what it feels like.”

Bellamy swallowed. She didn’t have a bedpost, but she got the impression Eli thought she was the one doing the carving. Pressure filled her chest. Her hands suddenly ached with the need to touch him. To soothe away the sting of cold words flung at him like a handful of rocks.

This wasn’t her. She didn’t do mean or negligent. But once the hurt was out there, there was no way to take it back.

She shoved her hands in her back pockets to be safe. “I didn’t mean that to sound so callous.”

“No, it’s fine. I get it. I just thought we’d…” He shrugged those broad shoulders, leaving them both to mentally fill in the blank.

Bellamy couldn’t fill it in though, because she hadn’t allowed herself to think of what-ifs since that morning. She’d thought it finished, that she’d never lay eyes on him again. Why spend time fantasizing when it would lead nowhere, except to more discomfort?

Eli’s pride was bruised, that’s all. He’d recover soon enough and move on to the next warm, eager body. And besides, she didn’t plan on staying in Serenity long term, so what was the point?

“Eli—”

“Forget it.” He spun away from her and walked toward the only truck left that wasn’t hers, saying, “I’ll get your payment to you as soon as I can.”

Bellamy drove out the open gate, glancing in her rearview mirror to see him closing it behind them. A hard, uncomfortable knot sat lodged in the center of her chest. Didn’t matter that her exhaustion was bone deep; she was facing a restless night.