Looking up and catching her smiling, he stopped, crossed his arms, and held her gaze, matching her smile for smile.
Skip barked at Jace as if to suggest he move along.
The look ended, leaving her struggling to catch her breath and right her thoughts.
“The pail is in the pantry.” Jace’s words snapped her back to normal. He showed her where to find the pail.
She carried it as they returned to the cow pen. And there, everything stopped dead. She had no idea how to milk a cow. Well, she knew milk came from the udder. After all, she wasn’t a complete ninny. But did she bend over? How did she get the milk from the udder to the pail?
“I take it you’ve never milked a cow.” His soothing tone calmed her.
“I’ve not even seen it done.”
“Watch, and I’ll show you.” He tied the cow to the side of the shelter, snagged a three-legged stool from a hook on the wall, and plopped it down at the animal’s side. He’d put warm water in the bucket and washed her udder, then reached under her belly and pulled on the teats. Streams of milk swished into the bucket.
Three cats appeared from somewhere, and Jace directed milk to each of them. They opened their mouth to receive it.
Both Dianne and Eddie laughed.
“It’s that simple.” Jace stood and waved her to the stool.
“It looks easy.” She balanced herself on the stool, reachedunder, and pulled. Nothing. She tried again. Still nothing. The cow mooed and shook her head. “She doesn’t like it.”
Jace squatted down beside Dianne. “Don’t pull. Squeeze.”
She tried. Nothing. She gritted her teeth. “What am I doing wrong?”
He leaned over and wrapped his hand around hers. “Feel what I do.” He squeezed. Milk came. He did it several more times, then sat back. “Now you do it.”
Do what? She’d paid more attention to her reactions to his nearness than to what he’d done. His arms had practically encircled her. Strong. Steady. Everything she needed for?—
No. This was about learning to milk. She recalled how his fingers had moved, and she did the same. A thin stream of milk shot out.
“I did it. I did it!”
The cow mooed and stomped her foot.
“Cows don’t like it when you shout.” Jace patted her shoulder. “But, yes, you did it. Now finish.”
Finish meant milking out all four of the teats.
“Now open the gate and let the calf in.” He held the bucket while she did so. Then, the three of them and Skip returned to the house where, apparently, the milk had to be strained and put in the cellar to cool. Before she went down the steep steps, she gave Eddie a glass of fresh milk.
“Good.” A white mustache lingered on his upper lip.
With the crocks of milk covered on the shelf, she stepped back to admire her work.
Jace stood beside her and draped an arm across her shoulders. “It’s time to rename you Farmer White.”
Pleasure and pride bubbled, and she nudged his side, joy blurring her vision. “Or maybe Milkmaid Dianne.”
“That sounds equally nice.”
Her attention returned to the milk containers. “If Chet was more rancher than farmer, why did he have a milk cow?” She tipped her head toward Jace’s low chuckles.
“He always said it was because Mae insisted she needed milk to make many things, but—” Jace leaned closer and whispered into her ear. “I think the truth is, Chet enjoyed thick cream in his coffee.”
She turned her head, intending to smile at this amusing tidbit, but his face was so close, his eyes so intent… Her smile died before it reached her lips. Their gazes locked. They breathed the same air. His focus dipped to her mouth.
