I slide my hand along the calf’s legs again, making sure the hooves are aligned right, the head tucked forward instead of bent back. The wrong angle now could cost them both their lives.
Satisfied, I reach for the OB chains, loop them snug around the slippery hooves, and check the knots twice.
“Easy, mama,” I murmur, bracing my boots in the straw. The heifer shifts, grunts. The contractions come harder now. “We’re gonna do this together. Gilbert, hold her with all you’ve got.”
“Yes, Dr. K.”
When the next contraction ripples through her, I lean back with every ounce of strength I’ve got, pulling in rhythm with her push. The chains go taut, the calf’s legs slide forward inch by inch.
“Come on,” I grit through my teeth. “You’ve got this.”
The calf’s nose appears, slick and dark, then shoulders, broad and stubborn. I adjust my grip, angle my pull downward to ease them past. The heifer bellows, one last desperate surge, and then….
The calf slides free into my arms, wet and heavy, a bull calf, hitting the ground with a gasp and a flail of legs.
I drop to my knees, clearing the calf's nostrils fast with my hand.
“Come on, little one.” I rub hard at its ribs until a rough, wet cough rattles out, followed by the sweetest sound in ranching—a thin, reedy bawl.
The heifer moans, turning her head, licking at her calf with soft, raspy strokes.
“Good girl,” I whisper, breathless, exhausted, and grinning through the sweat and straw plastered to my skin. “You did it.”
Percy lets out a grunt, more annoyed than relieved. “About time.”
I ignore him, checking the heifer. “I know you’re tired, but you’re gonna be just fine.”
As I clean up, Percy decides to piss me off,again. “Heard you’re the one who poisoned Cade Mercer’s Angus.”
I freeze, blood pounding in my ears. “What did you just say?”
He folds his arms. “Rumor’s all over town. Bodie gone, Cade’s cattle near dead, and who’s the one sniffin’ around his ranch? You.”
I rip off my gloves, fury boiling up hot and fast. “You mind what you say, Percy Carson, ‘cause the reason your heifer is alive right now, as is your bull calf, is ‘cause of me.”
“Don’t threaten me.” Then he looks at me smugly, arches an eyebrow. “Funny how trouble follows you, same as ten years ago.”
Before I can explode, Gilbert steps forward, his voice steel. “That’s enough, Percy.”
He rounds on Gilbert. “You don’t know?—”
“You called us for help, and she just saved your heifer and calf.” Gilbert’s drawl is low, dangerous. “If you can’t show gratitude, the least you can do is shut your mouth.”
The silence crackles. Percy mutters something under his breath and stomps off toward the barn.
“Hey.” Gilbert touches my arm lightly. “He’s an old bastard stuck in his ways. Don’t let him crawl under your skin.”
“Is that the rumor around town? ThatIhurt Cade’s Angus?” My throat closes.
His gaze is unwavering, warm in a way I didn’t expect. “Dr. Kirk, rumors are like foamy spit on a sick steer—looks nasty, but it ain’t the real sickness.”
I chuckle despite myself. “You have a way with words, Gilbert.”
“Look, Bodie trusts you, and so do I. And Percy can be an asshole if he wants, but the truth is you got here and you did your job, better than anyone I know, and I’ve worked with plenty of vets in my life.”
His vote of confidence gives me a mini-boost, which is shattered when I arrive at the Horseshoe Diner.
“I got no table for you,” Eunice Knowles, who owns the place, tells me when I take two steps in.
