by Rose Verde
First time mothers sometimes had problems but in the last one week plus, it'd been smooth sailing for them.
He did a quick round and then went to the laboring heifer. She was straining. The calf’s head protruded, but only one leg. She’d looked like she was progressing well the first round.
Just in case she was having difficulties, he gathered supplies—soap, buckets, gloves, lubricants, chains, oxytocin—into the calving stanchion.
“Trouble?” Angel asked, walking in.
“I guess.”
Between them, they had the heifer standing, restrained in a head-catch. After scrubbing the perineal area, he did a quick but thorough scrub of his arms. Angel handed him the plastic gloves and helped him squirt an ample amount of sterile lube on.
“Why didn't you come get any of us? It’d make things easier.”
“I just saw this. Besides, I figured you all needed your rest for one night.” Nevada pushed the calf back in gently as far as he could, then felt for the leg.
He cupped the hoof and maneuvered it. Now, the head rested on the knees and both feet were presenting in the birth canal. He felt over the top of the calf’s forehead. Satisfied that there was enough room to allow the calf to be born, he withdrew his hand.
The cow lay down and strained. Nevada grabbed a leg and pulled, then let go when the cow rested.
“That means you haven't gone to bed at all?”
“No,” Nevada said shortly.
Angel gave Nevada a look that he chose to ignore. He was only considering them the way he'd want someone to do for him.
The process went on for about half an hour—pull, rest, and pull again. The cow's moo rent the night and the calf slipped free.
By now, Nevada and Angel were both covered in a fine sheen of sweat despite the cold night.
Angel took over with the calf while Nevada assessed the cow.
“It's weak, but thank God it is breathing. I'll need to bottle feed.”
“Go ahead. As far as I can see, no tears.” Nevada got the cow up.
“You’re skillful. I wasn’t expecting any problems with cow or calf.”
“Sometimes even the best skills don’t pan out.”
Angel went to the kitchenette to prepare the bottle. He sat on his haunches and tried getting some milk down the calf's throat.
“I just felt I should check again before I turned in, just in case I didn’t wake up on time for another round.”
“I always set my alarm, Nevada. You have a lot on your plate to worry about. I could check them.”
“I think he's had enough.” Nevada applied a tag on the calf and between them they moved it with the new mother to another warm empty clean stall. The cow began to lick the calf immediately.
“Our work is done.” Nevada picked up a bucket and walked to the tap to wash.
“How will you do this loan thing? The boss isn't here now to deal with that.”
Nevada thought of the lodge on the south side of the ranch. He and Anthony had looked at the possibility of making more money for the ranch if they could provide accommodations and have people vacation there.
“I haven’t figured it out yet. Four weeks is short but hopefully, I'll be able to work something out. The poor sales on the steers contributed to the delay.”
Nevada had been learning to trust God for everything; he wouldn't let that burden him right now.
“Does Amy know?”
“No. She has her father to worry about.”
“You should let her know.”
Nevada shook her head. “Considering her feelings for the place, I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“I'll be praying for you.”
“Thanks, buddy, for everything.”
Nevada shook the water off his hands and faced his friend. Who knew if he'd have this opportunity to say this again? If the ranch got sold, everyone would be considering the next way forward. “If we have to leave here maybe in the intervening weeks, I know one thing is certain, meeting you five years ago- it feels like yesterday, right? It changed my life. Don't know what I'd have done with my bitterness and all that...”
His throat clogged and he found himself in his friend's embrace.
“I know the thoughts that I think towards you,” Angel quoted from scripture. “I was just an instrument. God had it planned out before you were born.” He released his friend. “God is still in charge no matter what happens.”
Nevada nodded.
“I'll be checking in on my parents later today. My mom's a bit under the weather,” Angel said.
“My greetings to them.”
“Sure. Don't bother coming out again, I'll check them.” He clapped Nevada on the back.
“See you around then.”
“Yeah.”
“YUCK, ALL THIS DUNG.” Amy scrunched up her nose at the copious manure on the front porch. Sam laughed at Amy.
“City girl, this is what you get with the frequent tour for coffee. I'll clean it out as soon as I finish here,” Sam said from her place at the kitchen window.
Amy skirted around it and stepped into the kitchen where Samantha's arms were waiting. “How’s Anthony?”
“I've just about given up hope. Everything I hear doesn't give me much to hold on to. Lorraine tells me things just to make me feel good but that's it.” She stepped out of Sam's embrace, removed her sweater, and draped it over the key hanger, plunking onto the stool at the worktable.
“You look tired,” Sam said.
Amy massaged her temples fighting the tears that hung beneath the surface. It made her feel needy and scared. “I guess I am.”
“Anthony wouldn't ask this of you, you know that?” Sam pulled out the roast from the oven and set it on the worktable. Removing her mitts, she sat beside Amy taking her hand.
The tears welled and spilled. A mixture of fatigue, guilt and frustration hit Amy in the gut like a battering ram.
“I'm afraid he'll wake up briefly and I won't be there to ask him for forgiveness.” She retrieved her hand, took out her handkerchief and wiped her face.
“What's happened has happened. Quit beating yourself up over it, okay?”
“I wish I could.”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Amy flushed and got up. “I'll go catch some sleep.” She turned and almost collided with Nevada’s broad chest.
“Whoa,” he said, his hand steadying her.
She mumbled her apology and fled. Remembering her sweater, she came back for it. She caught Nevada's gaze. He looked at her in a strange way. Heat burst in her face and she snagged it and hurried away. What would he think about her new penchant for tears? Not the impression she wanted him to have.
Chapter Eleven
NEVADA FROWNED AT THE warmth that ran down his arms from contact with Amy. “Is she all right?”
“Anthony's not doing well and she's afraid he’ll die.”
He had enough reasons to think so, but he wasn’t about to give his opinion voice. The reality gave him unease in no small measure and he ached for Amy.
He took his seat and Samantha placed a plate of rice and chicken on the table. Bowing his head, he prayed and started to eat. “I guess we all have our individual demons to deal with,” he said thinking of what she told him the day they decided to come to a compromise. “I'm going to town to buy some colostrum for the new calves. We've exhausted what I bought earlier. Angel’s mum isn't feeling well so he can’t pick it up. I’ll stop by to see her while in town.”
“I hope it isn't something serious.”
“I don't know exactly. He isn’t so sure either. We’ll know more when I get there.”
“My regards to them. Meanwhile, come back to the kitchen when you’re ready to go. I'll have something packed for them.”
Nevada gave her a lopsided smile. “Thank you.”
He set his spoon down, his eyes on Sam, wondering about the emotions that seized him. He loved this woman like he would love his own mother. What if they all had to go away?
“What are you thinking that you’re looking at me that way?”
Nevada picked up his spoon and turned his gaze to his food. “I'll really miss you when I leave here.”
Sam turned to him hands on her hips and tsked. “Who is saying anything about anyone leaving anywhere?”
He looked up, smiling in spite of the pain that twisted his insides like a knife. “Nobody, but I have looked at it from all sides and it's best I get used to the fact that this is not my future.”
Thankfully, he had some money put away. He’d do everything to keep off the street here on out.
Hot tears burned his throat. Getting up, he picked at his half-eaten meal. He wasn’t an emotional person and couldn't understand what was wrong with him.
He walked to the sink and began to clear the dishes. Thankfully, Sam didn't say anything more. He guessed it was obvious to her what he said was true.
He finished his chore and ended up in the den feeling chafed and raw.
If he didn’t make an effort to update the records, he'd soon start having lapses and that didn’t bode well for planning. Other years, he'd have everything down pat and buttoned up tight.
Sitting at the desk, he rubbed his eyes as though to push the fatigue out. He updated the number of calves, expenditures for repairs and the construction—all of which Amy had approved with more ease than he expected.
That out of the way, he picked up his Stetson and slapped it on his head. He'd swing by the construction site on his way and see how far it'd come along.
Lord I need Your help so I don't crumble under the weight of this burden.
NEVADA FOLLOWED HIS friend into his parents’ room.
“Mom, why didn't you tell me earlier?” Angel asked propping her with pillows to make her comfortable.
“I know what this time of the year means for you. I couldn't add to your burden. I'm fine now. The doctor said I picked up a bug. I guess I'm getting old.”
Nevada could see she was making an effort for her son’s sake. “I thought I’d come and say hi after Angel told me. How are you doing?”
The woman’s brown eyes crinkled. “Seeing both of you now, I feel better.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Angel waved Nevada to the sofa in the tastefully furnished room while Angel sat beside his mom holding her close. “You have a fever. You should’ve called me. You’re more important than work, okay? Promise me you'll tell me if anything is wrong.”
Nevada watched the exchange between mother and son. When he used to come to their house, he’d watch Angel with his parents and wonder who his were. “What Angel said is correct.”
She looked at Nevada and nodded, her brown eyes bore into him with uncanny perception. “You look tired.”
“I guess I am.”
“Is that my boy?” Rodriguez's voice boomed across the foyer.
Angel smiled. As far as his dad was concerned, Angel was always a boy. “Yes, Dad.”
“Welcome, Son,” Rodriguez hollered.
“Thanks, Dad. Come see who’s here.”
The microwave door closed and a soft whir followed.
Minutes later, Pastor Rodriguez showed up with a tray and set it on the table by the bed. The aroma of chicken noodle soup wafted through the room.
Nevada rose.
The man reached out and pumped him on the shoulder. “We miss you around here, son.”
“I miss you both too. Calving is gradually winding down. I should be able to come by more often.”
Angel’s dad nodded. “I got some chicken noodle soup for her. She's hardly held anything down the last few days.”
Angel took the soup from him. One look at his dad, he said, “I’m sorry I’m not able to be around much.” He spooned some into his mother's mouth.
“No worries, boy. How's Anthony?” Rodriguez directed the question to Nevada.
“Same. The surgeon's concerned about the continued state of unconsciousness. They said something about overwhelming infection, whatever that means.”
“I can imagine what work must be like for you all. I could come and help, you know?” Pastor Rodriguez said.
“Maybe when mum is well. Everybody's pitching in and doing their best,” Angel said.
“How's Amy?”
Nevada's heart lurched at the mention of her name. He tamped it down willing his racing heart to settle. “She's fine. Busy with her father.” It wasn't his place to say that she was doing it out of guilt. Everyone made mistakes, some they can fix, others they couldn't, so they learn to accept and live with it.
Angel settled his mother back in his arms.
“Now that you are here, I better run some errands,” Pastor Rodriguez said.
“All right, run along but be quick, so I can return to work.”
“Take your time, Angel. I’m going to pick up the supplies and head back to the ranch.”
“Thanks, bud.”
Pastor Rodriguez kissed his wife on her head and squeezed his son on the shoulder. “I'm sure your mum will be better today since you came. She's eaten more than she has in days.”
Nevada didn't miss the twinkle in the man's eyes as Rodriguez looked at his wife of twenty-nine years or the answering smile his wife gave.
From what Angel said, they couldn't have any other children. His mother had told him she had a severe fever after his birth, and the doctor said she'd had an infection in her womb that killed her chance of having more children.
Looking at them, their challenges had not killed the love they shared.
Nevada envied their kind of love, wished for that kind of connection with someone. He thought he’d had it with Brooke.
His thoughts went to Amy, and he pressed the memory away from his mind. She wasn't his kind, and as painful as it was, he had to face the truth, so he didn't get hurt.
When the pastor left, Nevada followed. A thought occurred to him. “Pastor Rodriguez, mind if I ask you a question.”
“What is it, son?”
He didn’t know much about Pastor Rodriguez, but he did know he wasn’t yet sixty. Yet, all his hair had turned white. His blue eyes regarded Nevada.
“My boss took out a loan on the ranch a few months back and now the time is up. I was wondering since you have worked with the bank before if you could enlighten me on what to do.”
“How long do you have?”
“A month.”
“How about you come around on Sunday, so we can discuss it in detail? We could ask the Farm Debt Mediation board to review your stay, which could hold off proceedings from 30-120 days. In the interim, I’ll talk with the bank manager and see what we can do.”
“That would be great, sir. I’ll see you Sunday.”
“Definitely.”
Nevada turned toward his truck.
“I hear all you’re doing on the ranch. Keep the fire burning, son.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Until he figured something out, he wasn’t planning to mention the loan to Amy just yet.
He couldn’t add to her burden.
Chapter Twelve
AMY FELT MOROSE. POOR sleep was taking its toll, but the guilt wouldn't let up. She dreaded leaving. What if her dad woke up? A heavy sigh escaped.
She had just returned from the hospital but, instead of going off to sleep, restless energy looking for an outlet had her walking into the den.
Closing herself in, she sat down on the chair her father usually sat in. He'd take her on Black Knight, and when they returned, she'd ride home on his shoulders. How did those times change? She used to love running in the green grass and feeding the chickens.
It wouldn't do to dwell there.
As much as she wanted to turn back the hand of time, she couldn't change the past, and that's what it was, the past. Easier said than done.
She dug through the desk drawer, going over document after document. Like the ledger, most entries weren’t in her father's writing. She assumed it was Nevada's. His beautiful cursive jumpe
d out at her. Why wasn't she surprised that the writing would reflect the man?
Running down the records, she didn't know anything about the ranch, but she had enough knowledge to interpret a profit and loss record.
She gave a mental eye roll. As her father's only child, the ranch would invariably fall to her. In a matter of months, it would come crashing before her eyes like a castle in the empty air. Cliché, but true. She went through one drawer and started on another. Anything to keep her awake.
Nevada kept meticulous records. She'd give him that.
She flipped another page of a journal. An envelope lay nestled in its pages. Curious, she took out the note and perused it. Amy frowned. A demand letter requiring loan payment? She did a quick count down on the date.
Why did Dad need a loan? The new buildings? What a harebrained idea!
A guest ranch in a laid-back small town.
How viable was that?
Whatever. She wasn't going to have to deal with— Her cell phone rang. She checked the ID, Mel. “Hey.”
“Hey to you. You didn't bother to call. Is that fair?”
Amy laughed. “I should’ve. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I know.” Mel’s voice sounded subdued. “How's your dad?”
Amy swept a hand back to hold her hair out of her face. She didn't have energy to do anything to it, but Sam had insisted on helping her comb it out, so she just left it down. “He's still in a coma. It's not good. Feels like he's shrinking before my eyes.” Amy’s voice cracked on the last words and tears choked her.
“I'll come out on Friday and see you. We could return together on Sunday.”
“You don't have to.”
“I insist, unless you have reasons for me not to.” Mel laughed. “Like the gorgeous foreman you told me about.”
She was trying to make Amy feel better. She couldn't help laughing. “I never said anything about being gorgeous. I told you we don't get along. Come on!”
“If that's the case, I'll come see for myself.” Then Mel’s voice got serious again. “You can't change what has happened over the years. I can imagine how you feel but I'm sure your father won't hold anything against you.”
