“They had Bob in cuffs. I was able to make them see reason, though. I think Sheriff Clark will question Dr. Reed in the future before showing up like that.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Reed didn’t do any homework. He was doing all of this on an anonymous tip and no physical proof.”
“Is that normal?” Benny asks.
“For him? I don’t know. They should be doing their own investigation, similar to what I’m doing. Doc Lucy should havebeen notified and asked for a statement, as should I have. It’s handled now.”
“You shouldn’t have gone there by yourself,” I tell her.
She pulls back and shoots me a dirty look. She rolls her eyes and starts toward the barn.
“Any more cattle pass or start symptoms overnight?”
“Two,” Benny hollers after her as she jogs to catch up. “Two died, no more have shown any symptoms though.”
I follow the two of them.
“Good. I want to start a different antibiotic protocol with the sick ones. I’m really leaning toward bovine respiratory disease, but since it’s transmitting so quickly, I want to add a steroid to a few of them but also try some NSAIDs. I want to see which I get a better result from.”
“The steroids will suppress their immune system and that wouldn’t—” I start to argue.
“That can be a side effect, but they’re already quarantined away from the others. They’re not going to get anything they haven’t already gotten. And when it works, we’ll continue to keep them separated for a few weeks to let their immune systems get back up to par if that’s the case. I’m not going to do anything to endanger your herd, Wade, but I can’t fix the main problem unless I try everything I can until I get the lab results back.”
I put my hands up and nod. She’s right. I reacted a little too quickly without asking more questions. “You’re right, I should have waited.”
“No. I appreciate that you were respectful about it. I’m an authority in this area because of my education, but that doesn’t discount your experience and knowledge. I appreciate that you do question.”
I nod. “Where’d your friend go?”
“Left, I guess.” She shrugs. “Thank God.”
She makes her way to the first set of pens. She’s got a clipboard attached to the gate, methodically checking and recording every dose, every time, every tag number. Her handwriting is neat and precise, just like everything else she does. There’s a smudge of dirt high on her cheek where she must have wiped her face absentmindedly, and it only makes her look more beautiful.
“Benny, bring that next one through,” she calls, flipping a page on the clipboard before glancing up at us. Her eyes catch mine for a split second, and I feel it—sharp and deep, that pull toward her that’s been messing with my head all day.
I grip the railing a little tighter and shift my weight, trying to shake the thought loose. It doesn’t work.
Benny leads the next cow into the chute, latching the gate behind her. The animal shifts, tossing her head in protest. She’s young, a little skittish, but not too bad. “Got her,” Benny says, holding steady.
She steps in close, running a gloved hand over the cow’s shoulder before checking the chart. “She’ll get the steroid and an antibiotic,” she says, reaching for the syringe on the metal tray beside her. I watch the way her fingers move, quick and confident, like she could do this in her sleep.
“You’re real organized,” I say, because I need to say something, anything, to keep my mind from drifting to places it shouldn’t while I’m standing here in the middle of a damn cattle pen.
She glances at me, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Not at all,” I murmur, my eyes locked on hers for just a beat too long. “It’s impressive.”
She holds my gaze, studying me like she’s trying to figure something out. “Well, someone’s gotta keep track of it all,” she finally says, turning back to the cow.
I nod, stepping in to steady the cow’s head as she administers the shot. “Makes sense.”
She presses the plunger, smooth and sure, then pats the cow’s side before stepping back. “Done. Let her through.”
I watch the way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers smudged with dirt, her eyes scanning the clipboard again like she’s making sure everything is perfect before moving on.
Damn, she’s something else. Smart, capable, strong. And beautiful—so beautiful it makes my chest ache.
