As he pulls back onto the road, his words echo in my mind.
We drive in that silence for a while, the landscape rolling by in shades of green and gold. I can smell his woodsy aftershave, and it’s comforting in the small space. I feel way calmer than I did earlier, like he sees me and like he’s not going to let me do anything alone. As someone who is used to being hyperindependent, it’s a nice feeling.
The hum of the engine and the rhythmic crunch of tires on gravel fill the space, and it feels like the world has narrowed down to just this truck and the two of us.
“You and your dad seem to be working things out,” he says, breaking the quiet. “Well, you weren’t screaming at each other anyway. The way you went back at him was impressive. Obviously, you still have a lot to work on, but it was a cordial visit, at least.”
I glance at him. “It’s a work in progress. I spent so much of my childhood taking whatever he said to me or however he treated me, because I thought it was normal. When I got older and saw that it wasn’t, we butted heads a lot because of it. Nothing has changed there, except that I’m not scared to stand up for myself and anyone else.”
He doesn’t press further, and I’m grateful. He’s more than aware that there’s a lot of history there, and it’s not his place to dig into it.
When we pull up to the next ranch, I shift into work mode immediately. I hop out of the truck, grab my kit from the back, and he follows my lead. Tanner Brown meets us at the gate, looking relieved to see me.
“Doc Sutton,” he says, tipping his hat. “Glad you’re here. The calves ain’t looking too good.”
I nod, already moving toward the pen. “Let’s take a look.”
Wade hangs back, letting me do my thing.
“Hand me the stethoscope,” I say, holding out a hand without looking at him. He passes it to me, and I crouch down to examine one of the calves. “Respiratory issues,” I mutter, mostly to myself.
“Think it’s related to the other cases?” Wade asks.
“Could be,” I reply, my brow furrowing in thought. “Need to run some tests to be sure.”
Tanner watches us with a mix of worry and hope. I move about the pasture as if no one else is even there.
“She’s calm, confident, and completely in control,” I hear Tanner say to Wade. “I was surprised to see you taking a backseat, but now I get it.”
“It’s impressive to watch her work—she’s efficient, knowledgeable, and completely in her element,” Wade answers.
I feel my cheeks heat up with the compliment.
Focus, Sutton.
This is definitely part of the outbreak. The cattle show the same symptoms as the other herds. All are showing similarities to bovine respiratory disease
“I’ve had a few stillbirths this week,” Tanner interjects as I go over to one of the pregnant heifers.
“You did? How many? How many is normal for you?”
“Usually, maybe one a month, if that. I’ve had three this week.”
I suck in a breath. Typically, that’s not a symptom of BRD. It could be unrelated, but I need to be certain.
“Have you noticed any jaundice in the cattle? Have you been able to see any of their urine—is it dark in color?”
He shakes his head. I’d already done a urine sample earlier on some of the infected cattle, but nothing looked out of the ordinary.
Sometimes, leptospirosis, which is caused by bacteria in the soil, can have similar symptoms to the BRD. The differentiating factors are that the kidneys and liver are under attack, which doesn’t happen with the respiratory disease.
I close my eyes and focus on calming my breathing. Lepto is a zoonotic disease, which means that it can be transferred to other species, like humans. We could be dealing with an outbreak among the cattle and ranch workers in town.
Yes, this is part of the reason that I’ve been so adamant about the protocols, but now I’m wondering if I shouldn’t have enforced even stricter protocols.
“Okay, I’m going to do another round of different testing before we go. From this moment forward, Tanner, no one can come into this pasture or handle the cattle without being completely gloved up and in protective gear, do you understand?”
“We’re following the protocols, Doc.”
