Page 81 of In These Hills

“I’m fine.” Her breath came heavy.

Seconds passed.

“Let’s go again! Everybody ready?”

Josephine rose into position. Doc Wyatt nodded.

“Pull!”

Josephine gritted her teeth, straining with everything she had, wanting Maple to see her calf before she died. But more, wanting that for Bethie.

A rush of fluid, and the forelegs and full head appeared, then the abdomen.

“Stop!”

Catching herself this time, Josephine moved to rest on her knees, gaining her breath as Mr. Coburn gently tore a hole in the white film covering the calf’s body.

“One last time should do it,” he said, removing the rope. “But this time, we each hold a leg. Right about here. You ready?”

Close beside him, Josephine tightened her grip. “Ready.”

“Pull!”

After a moment, the body of the calf slid free, and Josephine watched in exhausted amazement as the calf’s belly moved up and down, its eyes open and alert.

“Help me rub it down, then I’ll carry it to Maple.”

Realizing Mr. Coburn was talking to her, Josephine followed his lead and grabbed straw and began rubbing the calf’s slick body. He tickled the calf’s nostrils with straw until it moved its head and snorted, its coat the same deep honeyed brown as its mother’s.

“Usually the mama will turn and start licking it,” he said, leaning closer. “She’ll nudge it, trying to get it to move. But Maple’s not able to do that, so we’re helping her out.”

Josephine rubbed the calf’s neck, its belly, then moved back to its head. Despite the straw, her hands grew slippery with afterbirth. But she didn’t mind. This was . . . a miracle.

“Bull or heifer?” Bethie asked as she watched from where she sat, cradling Maple’s head.

Dodge looked. “Heifer.”

“You had a heifer, girl,” Bethie whispered. “A pretty thing just like you.”

Josephine looked beside her, keeping her voice low. “Does it have the disease?” she whispered, wiping her hands on the cloth he gave her.

“Hard to tell yet. But it looks mighty healthy compared to three others born in recent days.”

She frowned. “Those calves all died?”

He held her gaze, and she bowed her head, unable to imagine having to do what he’d done.

“Dodge.” A hint of warning laced Doc Wyatt’s tone.

Mr. Coburn cradled the calf in his arms. “Come on, sweet thing. Let’s meet your mama.” He laid the calf down by Maple, and the dying mother struggled to lift her head, but couldn’t.

“Look at your sweet daughter,” Bethie whispered, rubbing the new calf behind its still-wet ears. “She’s so pretty. Just like—” Her voice broke. “Just like you. Don’t you worry . . . I’ll take good care of her for you,” Bethie said between sobs.

Josephine watched, her heart aching, but in awe of the girl’s strength.

A moment passed, and Doc Wyatt slipped a hand beneath Maple’s neck. He shook his head.

Mr. Coburn leaned down. “Bethie, let’s get you and this new little one to another stall. We need to get her some milk.”