Once and for All by Jeannie Watt Page A

their own way. In turn, Jodie studied the strong angles of his profile, wondering what it had been like for him to be plunged headlong into single fatherhood.
    It couldn’t have been easy….
    “Are Beau and Tyler here?” she asked casually.
    “They’re already on their way to Samuels Creek.”
    “It’s weird to think of them riding. They seem like such jocks.”
    “Lots of kids around here cowboy and play sports. My dad had a little ranch before he and my mom moved to the coast. The boys rode right up until he sold the ranch.”
    “Why’d your parents move?”
    “My mom has asthma and couldn’t take the desert allergens anymore.”
    “Oh.” His mother had also lost a son.
    Sam didn’t get into the pen, but instead just watched the heifer, as Jodie had been doing. The only difference was that he probably had an idea of what to do if something did go wrong. He walked over to the pen where the second heifer stood breathing heavily, but other than that gave no sign that she was in labor.
    And then the cow started to strain.
    “She’s standing up.” Jodie stated the obvious, glancing at Sam and wondering what he was going to do about it.
    “Some give birth that way.”
    “I see.” Jodie swallowed. After all the hoopla about early calves and hard times for heifers, well, she just didn’t know if she was ready to watch. So she didn’t. She wandered over to visit Bronson in his stall. He hung his nose over the half door and Jodie stroked it. She heard Sam climb the panels and hoped it was for some routine reason.
    “Jodie, I’m going to need some help here.”
    “Does it involve blood?” she asked. She was already on the move, willing to do her part, even if she threw up, but she wanted to steel herself.
    “No.”
    “Be right there.”
    There was a tiny reddish calf lying in the straw, and Sam was peeling away the sac surrounding it. The cow was still standing, facing in the other direction. Sam handed Jodie a towel. “Rub,” he said.
    She took the towel and started gently rubbing it over the calf’s long damp hair. The little guy was all bones and sharp edges. His head lay on the straw and his pink tongue was hanging out.
    “No. Like this.” Sam put his warm, weather-roughened hands over hers and began to briskly massage the calf. Jodie didn’t know about the calf’s circulation, but hers took an upswing. He smelled so damned good, and feeling his chest against her back…it was unfair that she had these reactions.
    “This doesn’t hurt him?”
    “Gets her blood flowing and helps warm her.”
    Her. Okay. Jodie tried to keep up the movements as he went back to the cow, who was once again straining.
    “Twins?” she asked.
    “Yeah,” he grunted. She didn’t want to think about where his hands were right now. “But I don’t believe this one is alive.”
    “Oh.” Jodie rubbed harder and the calf’s head started jerking around.
    She kept her back turned as Sam continued to work. The calf started to wiggle more as Jodie rubbed it, trying to ignore what was going on behind her.
    Finally she heard the sound of something hitting the ground.
    “Is it alive?”
    “No.”
    Jodie chanced a look over her shoulder, saw the cord hanging from the cow and instantly turned back to the calf. “Daisy,” she said in an effort to distract herself. “We’ll call you Daisy.”
    Sam continued to do whatever it was he did. She heard the sounds of something being dragged under the panel rails, and knew it was the stillborn animal.
    She continued to rub until the calf made an effort to get her feet under her, and the mama cow started moving behind them.
    “Better get out of the way,” Sam said. Jodie stood up and, still clutching the towel with both hands, stepped back from the little reddish-orange baby. Sam climbed out of the pen and she followed. He reached for her, taking her forearms and helping her down.
    The cow lowered her nose and sniffed at the calf now that she had the pen to herself. She