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It didn’t take long before there were about fifty people helping out. Most were herding the first batch of calves into the tub. Once they were in that smaller corral, Mitchell pushed them into the calf shoot where they stood on a scale. Paxton recorded each calf’s weight and tag number before the next gate opened and they went into the calf table. The process took only about a minute and a half for each calf. We had about three hundred to do. The day would be a long one, to say the least.
Chloe was following Harley as she vaccinated each calf. Steed was banding the bull calves, Wade was tagging, and I was branding them. Not all of the volunteers would help. A lot came for the experience. You could guarantee to see about a dozen kids running around watching and asking when they would be old enough to help. It was something I still loved being a part of and knew I would forever love it. It was in my blood.
This was Chloe’s first branding. Last year she wasn’t feeling good and had to miss it, so she was even more excited than usual.
“What’s that spray for, Uncle Tripp?” Chloe asked.
“It’s so they don’t get an infection after we brand them.”
“Does all of this hurt them?”
“It only hurts for a minute, sweetheart,” I replied.
“Then they get to go back to their mommy?”
I nodded. “Yep. Then they go back to their mommy.”
Everything was moving along smoothly until they tipped one of the cows over for Steed to band. Harley was looking at something on the calf, and it kicked, hitting her right in the chin. When she fell to the ground it felt like my entire world stopped.
“Harley!” I cried as I rushed over, leaning close to her face.
Everyone started calling out, “Is she okay?”
I lifted her chin to look at the cut. Our eyes met and Harley drew in a quick breath.
“Baby, are you okay?”
Her eyes filled with tears; I hadn’t been thinking when I called her baby.
“I’m o-okay,” she whispered.
“You’re bleeding.”
Blinking away our intense stare, she moved back. Her anger from earlier returned.
“I’m okay. I’m alright,” Harley repeated.
“Harley, are you okay?” her father Gus asked, pushing me out of the way. I stood there and watched Gus fuss over Harley.
“I’m fine, Daddy. Honestly. It just stunned me. He barely got me.”
“Barely got you? Your chin is cut open, Harley!” I cried. She shot me a dirty look that clearly said fuck off.
“It’s fine, Tripp. I’m fine.” Looking from me back to her father, she gave him a beautiful smile. “Daddy, I’m fine. It’s not the first time an animal has hurt me.”
“You’re sure you don’t want a break? Jonathon can vaccinate,” my father stated from next to me.
She shook her head. “I’m good. I promise.”
“That’s my tough girl. Takin’ it on the chin like a trooper,” Gus said with a huge smile.
When she kissed Gus on the cheek and headed back over to the table, I wanted to scream. Why was she so damn stubborn? She’d always been that way. I knew she was in pain. I could see it in her eyes.
“Damn it, Dad. You should have made her stop and rest.”
He laughed. “Son, do you remember at all who this is we’re talking about? Harley Carbajal has been doing this since she was ten years old. The woman knows what she can and can’t handle. You’d do best to remember that.” He glanced over to Mallory. “And remember your girlfriend is watching.”
I cursed under my breath. I found Mallory sitting on the fence, watching me. Lifting my hand, I smiled and waved. She waved back and looked over to everyone at their respective posts. Mitchell had taken over the branding so I headed over to Mallory.
“Hey, so what do you think about all of this? Want to join in?”
She scrunched up her face and shook her head. “Um, no thanks. Looks a little too dirty for my tastes.”
I forced a grin. Mallory was indeed a high-maintenance kind of girl. I had never even seen her in a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt. And her cowboy boots were in perfect condition. More fashion than function.
“Where’s Laney?”
Mallory rolled her eyes and pointed at Hemi. There was a group of kids all sitting in a circle playing with the puppy. Waylynn was sitting there, as well, watching over the kids.
“My sister certainly looks happy, doesn’t she?”
Mallory glanced back. “Yep. Motherhood looks good on her.”
“It does,” I replied with a smile. Scarlett walked up, and my smile grew bigger. Turning back to look over my shoulder, I found Trevor. He was on his horse getting the next round of calves into the tub.
“I think I’ll go take over for Trevor with getting the calves in the tub.”
“Question, why do you call it a tub since they aren’t being washed?”
