Page 24 of Secret Heart
“Fuck. Ethan, it’s upside down.”
Ethan doesn’t say anything else before cutting the call.
I drop my phone onto the supplies then halter the cow. She shakes her head, trying to force me to back off, but I’ve spent most of my adult life avoiding irritated bulls. It’s honestly easier to keep her from hitting me with her horns when I’m right up on her than when she has a few feet to really put her weight into the lunge. It takes me a few tries to get the cow to her feet, but she follows easily enough once she is. As I’m settling her on some straw in the middle walkway, one of the calves tries to slip through the halfway open gate.
“Yeah, not a good idea, little dude.” I guide it back into the barn paddock. “There’s about to be way more people here.”
I’m assuming, at least. Upside-down is one of those presentations that often needs the vet and not just experienced ranch hands. My scent explodes from me again, and I groan. I don’t even have the lotion with me to try and cut through the worst of it. I close my eyes and try to slow my breathing and calm my racing heart. Nothing good will happen if I’m this reactive while Ethan’s trying to keep this situation from being an outright catastrophe.
Tires crunch on gravel. I grab the supplies and set them on the other side of the gate and then lock it. I’m climbing over it as a tall figure walks through the main access door.
“Triston?”
My heart launches into my fucking throat so fast I gasp.
“Ethan said we have a calf problem and to get my ass down here. Which—” Beau’s question cuts off on the same colorful curse Ethan had used. “How in the hell is she even pregnant? She slipped it back in July right after cutoff.”
I count back the months. “So she’s early, too, then?”
“Probably,” Beau says, voice bleak.
He silently puts on protective gear, taking over the decision making, and I slip into the much more comfortable role of being the second helper. My scent still pulses out from me, the distress edge to it bound to be a problem at some point, but I do my best to ignore it, focusing on the cow and calf we’re trying to save.
By the time Ethan walks in, his large strides eating up the distance, Beau’s already trying to reposition the calf while I keep the cow from kicking him. Every other adjustment he makes has his leg brushing against mine, his bare arm touching my own. My hands are shaking, the agitation pressing against my skin like tiny, never-ending pinpricks, and my scent betrays more than just my anxiety. The sour edge gives away my secret, and the warmth of it tells more about how Beau’s affecting me than I really have the capacity to admit to.
It’s easy enough to tell when Ethan’s close enough to catch my scent.
A growl rips up his throat, the sound entirely primal. A shiver races down my spine, but I manage to swallow back the whine trying to break free. Thankfully Ethan is bonded already, or that sour twist to my scent would likely have driven him right over the edge of reasonable and into a rut.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “I didn’t think I’d need…Oh, fuck.”
The kick to my thigh is hard enough I want to crumble from it, but I try to distance myself from the pain and continue to block access to Beau so he can keep working.
“You’re fine,” Ethan breathes. “I can handle it.”
His growl doesn’t stop, though, even as he slides between Beau and me, easing me away from the cow. Just like the growl, the protectiveness is instinctual, and I don’t try to fight against it. It takes another few minutes before I can feel my leg enough to move away and give Ethan a bit of space.
“You got it yet?” Ethan asks.
Beau tries another maneuver and then groans. “Fucking finally.”
It only takes a few more minutes after that, and then we’re trying to determine if the calf is too preterm to save. Ethan and Beau do most of the evaluating while I work to clean up the worst of the mess and deal with the afterbirth. The cow’s alert and responsive, and her agitation drops away considerably now that the calf isn’t stuck. Once I have her back on her feet, I fill a small bucket with the high calorie feed supplement and bring it over to her. My scent at last starts to fade, the sour edge to it taking the longest to disappear.
Ethan’s growl finally cuts off.
“There you go, bud,” Ethan says, his voice still hoarse.
Beau eases the calf, still mostly wet and not yet standing, up next to the cow. Sometimes they reject the calves when we have to intervene so heavily, but hopefully this one will work out. His focus stays on the pair even as he sheds out of the protection wear and gloves, dropping them into a pile that Ethan’s quick to take care of. I wash away the worst of the mess with the hose and then stretch out my leg, trying to ease the pain. It’ll be a bitch of a bruise, I’m sure, but nothing feels particularly wrong with it.
I reorganize the kits and then settle against the fencing. It’ll be a few hours before we’re safe to reintegrate them with the herd and leave them alone.
“You good?” Ethan asks, brushing his hands on his own soiled jeans. “I can call Kyle if you need to reset.”
Beau frowns as he looks between us. I shake my head.
“N-no, I’ll be fine.”
Ethan’s look is cynical, even more than usual. The question regarding my secret is there in his eyes, too. I swallow heavily, silently pleading he doesn’t bring it up. He frowns but doesn’t push any more.
