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The man hiked the baby up to his shoulder and rubbed her back, continuing to bounce, while he looked apologetically at Hunter and Isobel. “Sorry about all this. It’s a bit hectic around here. The kids didn’t get their naps today.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jonathan. You said you had a heifer that was giving you some trouble calving?”
Jonathan nodded. “She’s out in the yard beside the barn. She’s been in labor for a few hours and isn’t moving along as quick as I’d like. Got two more that should be freshening any day now. I’d go down and show you but—” The baby on his shoulder let out a particularly ear-piercing wail and they all winced. “She’s teething.”
Aw, poor kiddo. And poor dad, if the bags underneath the man’s eyes were any indication.
“We’ll go take a look,” Hunter said.
Jonathan nodded gratefully.
Hunter turned and headed back to the truck, where he hopped up and opened the big utility box he had installed at the back. Isobel took note of every instrument he grabbed—calf puller, chains, surgery toolbox, and the lariat.
“Are you going to actually let me within three feet of the animal this time?” she asked when he hopped back down from the truck bed.
“I’ve assisted with calvings before, you know. Several times.” Okay, it had only been twice. And the first time she’d just watched from a distance. But the second time she’d been one of the people with her hands on the calf puller, yanking the baby calf into the world. As part of one of her labs at Cornell, she’d spent a week at a dairy farm in upstate New York.
Hunter didn’t respond. He just kept walking out toward the gated off pen beside the barn. What, was he just going to give her the silent treatment now? And he’d called her childish!
“Melanie told me you were short-staffed,” she had to all but jog to keep up with his long-legged stride, “and you yourself said I’d only be going on these calls with you until I was prepared enough to do them on my own. As a third-year veterinary student, I’m qualified to practice in a clinic part-time. But how will I be able to do any of that if you never let me touch any of the animals?”
He stopped walking, so suddenly it took several steps for Isobel to realize it and stop as well. She paused and looked back at him.
He had a patronizing smile on his face. “Fine. You want to be the veterinarian, working all on her own? Here’s your chance. This is now your case.” He dropped all the tools he was carrying at his feet and stepped back, his hands up.
She narrowed her eyes at him. What kind of trick was this?
But he just backed away and crossed his arms over his chest, watching her with that same stupid smirk on his stupid face.
She didn’t try to hide her annoyance as she reached over and picked up the instruments he’d dropped. It was awkward to carry them all. She kept dropping one thing or other. She didn’t dare look up at Hunter, knowing she’d just find him smirking at her.
She only managed to carry everything by tucking the calf puller and lariat underneath her arms, hanging the chains around her shoulders, and picking up the surgery kit. It was all heavier than she expected and the trek to the barn far longer than it initially looked.
But finally they got there. The heifer’s plaintive mooing could be heard from the opposite end of the yard. She stood, pawing at the muddy ground, the whites of her eyes showing as she looked around wildly.
Shit. Isobel had forgotten how big cows were in person. She frantically tried to remember everything she’d learned on the couple occasions she’d seen this done.
First, get the cow in a stable position.
Both cows she’d seen give birth had been laid down on their side. But she knew that sometimes cows gave birth standing up.
She bit her lip, setting down her equipment beside the gate as they entered the yard. She felt Hunter’s eyes on her as he hopped up to sit on the fence and watch the show. Judging her. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of looking his direction or showing him how much this whole thing unnerved her.
He was such a jerk. She’d just wanted to assist him, not have to do the whole thing by herself. Much less with him watching on.
You can’t do this. All you’ll ever be is a failure. Who are you kidding?
Isobel shut her eyes for a brief second and breathed in a deep breath to clear her stepmother’s voice out of her head.
Turned out that wasn’t the best move because the side yard didn’t smell awesome. She’d forgotten that about her week at the dairy farm too. Animals stank. ‘Shit happens’ was more than just a saying on a farm.
Okay, time to stop overthinking this and just get it done.
She picked up the lariat and approached the laboring cow. Lassoing a cow couldn’t be that big a deal. At least not for a cow about to give birth. Right?
Isobel walked toward the cow, her arms out to the side, the loop of the lariat ready.
“Hi there, Bessie. We’re gonna take this nice and easy, okay?” That wasn’t a tremble in her voice. Nope. Not at all. She cleared her throat. “I’m here to help.” She smiled.
