“Me neither.”
She kissed him again, fast and hard, and then she headed quickly for her car as if she might stand here all afternoon making out with him if she didn’t get out of here soon.
He knew the feeling.
He watched her drive away, the way he’d watched a green truck drive away from Foster Ranch a few days ago.But this was different.Bonnie wasn’t leaving.She was going back to her office, to her double life, to the unbearable daily performance of loyalty to a man who had at least a part in killing her husband.And she was doing it because she was brave, and because the evidence package was almost ready, and because the truth—their truth, the one they’d built together—was going to outlast every lie Lucas Shoemacher had ever told.
He stood in the parking lot for another minute, feeling as if he’d just been given the answer to a question he’d been afraid to ask.
Are you going to stay?
Yes.For as long as you’ll have me.
And she’dkissedhim.
18
The wind changed on Wednesday.
Gray was walking from the bunkhouse to the calving barn at six in the morning, coffee in hand, when the air hit his face differently.It was warm.Not Montana-in-March warm, which meant slightly above freezing.This breeze was genuinely warm.Soft and dry and smelling of dust instead of snow.
A chinook.
The warm wind poured off the Rockies like water over a dam, falling down the east slopes and heating as it dropped.It could raise temperatures thirty degrees in a few hours.It turned snowpack to melt water, melt water to mud, and mud to cracked, dry ground faster than seemed meteorologically reasonable.
It was known for leaving behind miles of dead, brown grass on the hillsides—brittle, cured, and dry as paper.A fire hazard, even at this time of year.
All it needed was a spark.
He walked into the calving barn and filed the threat away.Right now, he had cattle to check.
The last of the first batch of calves had been delivered two days ago, both by C-section.Dillon grumbled that of course Jenna’s calving fiasco had to go out with a bang.But both mothers and calves were doing well.Thanks to Dillon’s skill and hard work the past few weeks, every single cow so far had survived.
There was one cow that Dillon didn’t recommend breeding again because of complications after her birth, and one calf that still had to be bottle fed several times a day because her mama’s milk didn’t come in fully.But relative to how things could have gone, Gray counted this calving season a resounding success so far.
There were still a handful of cows who hadn’t gotten pregnant the first time around, and who Jenna had inseminated on their next heat cycle.They were due to give birth in April, and Dillon would come back around the first of April to start inducing labors a bit early and stand by to perform C-sections as needed.
The cows who’d already given birth had mostly recovered from their difficult deliveries.And the calves were, in a word, thriving.
The Charolais-cross calves were enormous, healthy, and extremely visible.A pasture full of black Angus cows with cream-colored calves the size of small ponies at their sides was a sight you couldn’t miss from the county road, and people stopped by Jenna’s fences every day to gawk at the giant babies.
Gray walked the pens checking the young ones.A heifer calf butted her head against his hip demanding attention.He rubbed her ears absently while he consulted the spreadsheet on his phone.
The numbers told a story that had shifted from disaster to unexpected windfall.Charolais-cross steers grew faster and heavier than Angus or Hereford stock.These calves would be worth significantly more at market than the Hereford-cross calves Jenna had originally planned on.
Furthermore, these calves were growing faster than Gray had forecasted.They were going to be even bigger and heavier in six months than anyone at the ranch had initially guessed.Sully redid the math over breakfast just yesterday, scribbling on a napkin while Jenna read over his shoulder.His eyebrows had shot up at the final number.Jenna’s had gone higher.
“That can’t be right,” she exclaimed.
Sully pushed the napkin across the table to Gray, who checked the math quickly.
“It’s right,” Gray confirmed.
Jenna sat back in her chair and just stared at the napkin.
Sully commented dead-pan, “I think you owe the sperm company a thank-you note.”
Jenna balled up the napkin and threw it at his head.
