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She reached over and pushed the off button on the console.
Ah. Blessed silence. Finally. She relaxed back in her seat with a relieved sigh.
Until Hunter flicked the radio back on the next second.
“—take your dreams but you’ll never give up Jim Bean.”
Isobel’s mouth dropped open.
She punched the radio off again, then crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Hunter.
His hand shot out almost before she was even settled. He cranked the volume up and started singing along, picking up right in the middle of the line.
“—ever choke, you can rely on Jack and coke. Whoa-a, they’re never gonna steal our pri-ide. We got the Lord on our si-ide.”
“Fine,” she said, having to all but yell to be heard over Hunter and the God-awful music. “Play your stupid music. Unlike some people, I’m not a child.” She huffed out so hard some of the shorter hair that framed her face flew up in a little cloud. Arms still crossed, she angled her body resolutely away from Hunter.
The music turned down and Hunter stopped singing.
“You sure throw a hissy fit like one.”
It would be bad to punch the driver of a moving car, right? Instead she dug her nails into her arms and clenched her jaw, staring out at the passing countryside and not dignifying his comments with a response.
Thankfully, they arrived ten minutes later. She was out the door almost the instant the truck came to a stop.
It was a smaller farm unlike some of the bigger operations they’d been by today. They stopped in front of a ranch house with a large barn in the distance. The sun was low on the horizon and Isobel held her hand over her eyes to look out in the direction of the barn. It had a gated area off to the side where she saw several cows meandering.
She felt Hunter come up beside her but she didn’t look at him. He passed by and went up to the door, knocking on it with several swift, decisive raps.
They stood waiting for several long moments before it opened, a baby’s wailing greeting them. A harried man stood there with an angry, red faced baby in his arms. He bounced her up and down and tried to put a pacifier in her mouth, to no avail.
“Shh, shh,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “Brenda, the vet’s here.”
Something was shouted back but Isobel couldn’t make it out over more young children’s voices screaming in the background.
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.
