I read it back.It sounds clumsy, like I’m trying to come off casual and end up maybe sounding a little desperate.I hit send anyway.
Part of me is convinced Dylan has deleted my number and moved on.Another part – the part still baking under the red heat and dry sky – wonders if cattle isn’t the be-all, end-all for this land.
I don’t say anything to Luke.
Not yet.
I pocket my phone and watch him set up a small pen beside the house while I lean on the fence and keep an eye on the calf.He disappears in the shed and comes back with a metal bucket, a clean bottle and powdered milk.He mixes it then hands me the full bottle.
‘You want to try?’
I take it awkwardly in my hand.‘I have no idea what I’m doing.’
‘Just aim for her mouth.’
‘That’s what he said,’ I mutter.
Luke snorts.
I kneel beside the calf.She stares at me, blank and blinking.I press the rubber nipple to her lips and wait.Nothing.Then, as I’m about to give up, Luke’s rough hand lands on mine and guides the bottle up at an angle.Instantly, the calf latches on and starts to suck.
My eyes widen.I look up at Luke, who’s crouched beside me now, hand covering mine.
‘We might have a fighter on our hands.’
I smile, brushing a hand down her back.She’s still fragile.Still a long shot.But she’s trying.‘You think she’ll make it?’I ask, ignoring the fact that he hasn’t let go.
Luke watches her for a long moment.‘I’ve seen worse come good.’
We stay there until the bottle empties.Then Luke releases my hand, and I pass him the bottle.
‘I think we should name her,’ I say.
Luke raises an eyebrow.‘Dangerous game.’
‘C’mon.What about … Survivor?’
‘Too earnest.’
‘Jamie Junior?’
‘I’ll shoot her myself.’
I grin.‘Fine.What about … Cutlet?’
He blinks.And then, to my absolute delight, he laughs.It’s a real one.Loud and rough and kind of beautiful.
I can’t help staring at him.‘What?’
He glances down, then up again, shaking his head.‘Nothing.’
We sit in silence as the light turns gold.
As the calf rests her head in the dust.
As our arms stay touching.
And the heat, for once, feels bearable.
