13. DEAN
Chapter thirteen
DEAN
CUDDLES CALVES AND CONNECTIONS
Atlas shovels another helping of cherry pie onto his plate. “Loki still doesn’t like strangers and drops like a dead skunk the second he spots one, but Skye made it all the way up to him and even gave him a pet today before he stiffened up,” he beams.
Skye smiles widely from the other side of the table. “He loves me, I reckon I’ll be riding him in no time,” he says, and Atlas snorts and shakes his head.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but it is promising. How is Cuddles?” Atlas asks.
I roll my eyes at the name the guys voted for us to call the pygmy goat. Surely they could have come up with something better than Cuddles, but given the thing spent every waking moment snuggled up to me or thankfully now, someone else wearing my shirt, I guess it fits.
“Sleeping,” I say as the thing nuzzles against the crook of my neck. Preston had to get down to the barn with the birthing cows, so this little guy was handed back over. My shirt was, too, and the second it was on, I could smell Preston in it, all fresh soap and sunshine. Does sunshine have a smell? That scent you get when the sun is just popping its head over the horizon and the breeze kicks up, sending the morning perfume your way. That’s how he smells. If there is anything better, I haven’t found it. Before he rushed off, Preston slung a cloth around my neck like a sling to support Cuddles and allow me to eat. I offered to go down to the barn with him, but he insisted I eat first. I’m about halfway through my steak, already bouncing my knee under the table, just itching to get out of here.
“I checked the camera we set up in the Lama pen,” Nial says with a laugh, turning his phone around. “It’s about an hour or two of them just standing around then then this,” he says tapping the screen. We can see two lamas standing off. in the opposite corner, then out of nowhere, Chewie’s head is there, taking up the whole screen and then it tumbles to the ground and goes dark.
“That shit,” I laugh.
“Got any other bright ideas?” Nial asks and I shrug.
“Maybe get a heater for the pool? We’ve got bigger issues to consider. The Doc says we have three more birthing big calves; that’s seven total this season, and I’m pretty sure all of them are fathered by Brutus. We might have to limit the old fella to our seasoned breeders and give one of the new bulls a go at the younger ones.”
“Is that where Preston is now?” Nial asks, and I nod.
“Connor brought the wrench up to the mini barn just in case they needed a little more muscle getting one of them out. I’m glad we knew earlier so we can help the girls out. It’s so much worse when they’re birthing for hours and then we go in to help when they’ve got little to no energy left.”
“I can come down, too,” Skye offers, but I shake my head.
“We got it, but thanks. Maybe you can try holding this fella after supper?”
“Yeah, I can do that. Even if he cries, I don’t mind.”
“You say that now, but wait until he’s been at it for an hour.” Atlas chuckles.
My phone rings, and I answer as the table falls silent so I can hear.
“Beaker Brother’s Ranch, Dean speaking,” I say.
“I think it’s dead,” the woman screams down the line.
“What’s dead?”
“The horse. I think he’s dead. I was just going to pat him. Give him a carrot, you know? And he just fell right over.”
I try not to laugh.
“I’ll send Atlas right down, but I’m sure he’s just playing, darlin’. No need to worry.”
“Are you sure? Because he looks dead.”
“I’m fairly sure. But Atlas is on his way.” I hang up, and Atlas is already standing.
“A guest has spooked Loki. He’s probably fine but best to head down and check on him and settle the guest so she knows she didn’t kill him.”
“I knew I should have stabled him before coming in for dinner, but it’s such a nice night out and he was loving the paddock. He’s been jumping the old log that’s in the middle all day.”
“No one eats my pie,” Atlas says, pointing at the piece he’d only just grabbed as his second helping.
“No promises.” Nial laughs, and Atlas takes a step back, grabs the plate and takes it with him out of the house.
It was probably a smart idea. We finish up dinner, and Skye slips on my shirt from yesterday, it hadn’t been put through the wash yet and as gross as it might be to be wearing another man’s sweaty shirt, Skye looks like he is too happy to be holding Cuddles to care.
“This is so cool,” he beams as I slip the noose of the sling over his head, Cuddles snoring against his chest.
“The bottle is in the warmer now, give him that in about ten. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“No problem. I’ve got him,” he says, and I pull on my boots and grab my hat before heading down to the mini barn to check on the birthing.
I pull open the barn door and find Preston and Connor positioned behind Fairy, a three-year-old black and white, her new baby’s legs sticking out, with a rope tied around them. Both guys are holding on for dear life.
“Where do you need me?” I ask, and Preston nods up towards Fairy’s head.
“Our girl could use some love,” he says, and I smile at how he calls her our girl and make my way over. She moos and tilts her head my way, and I brush the palms of my hand over the top of her head. Fairy was part of a herd of fourteen Preston saved from the slaughterhouse when a dairy farm went belly up a few towns over. It wasn’t a hard sell. We had the room with only a quarter of our milking barn taken up at the time. He got them for a steal, too. Rescuing farm animals, or any animals, seems to have been ingrained in him since he was a little guy. I remember me and my brothers running up the dirt road and seeing Preston there, crouched in the ditch with three kittens in his lap, their momma beside him, not too long gone. He had tears streaking his face when we pulled up on him, and he begged us to help carry the momma to his place for a good burial. If it had been any of us who found that litter, the things would be feral out hiding from shotgun pellets, but not Preston’s pa. The town vet instilled in Preston the same love of animal kind he had. Old Kathy Potts still has them three cats, too. She takes them for walks in an old pram twice a week down to the shops.
The momma cow moos again, leaning into me with her large head.
“Easy girl, you got this, Momma. We’re here, come on, darling, you got this,” I say, resting my head against hers for a moment between contractions. The guys are pulling at her, as I keep patting her back, telling her how good she’s doing, and then it’s like she lets out a giant sigh and her calf is out.
“We got a big healthy girl,” Preston says, rubbing the calf’s side as it stirs to life and shakes its head.
“See that, girl? You got a new baby,” I say, giving her a kiss on her huge warm head and moving back so that she can turn to get to her calf.
“No rest for the wicked. We got another one over in bay four,” Connor says, and I head over with Preston.
“Nope, she’s done, baby’s out.” Connor laughs, and I lean over the rail to see. The all-black calf is standing under its mother, drinking from the teat already.
“Good girl, Jose, good girl,” I croon, and Preston chuckles and heads toward stall seven.
“Lilly has about an hour to go, I’m thinking,” he says, checking her progress. “Feet are in a good position, but they’re still a way down. We’ll hang out and keep an eye on her. If she doesn’t progress soon, we’ll tie them up and give her a hand getting this one out,” Preston says, and Connor nods, his stomach grumbling fills the space.
“I got this, you should go eat,” I tell them.
“Seriously, that would be amazing,” Connor says, heading for the wash station to clean off a bit. He’ll have to change his clothes on his way back up at the house before Sally-May will let him sit at her table, but it’s easier to get most of the muck off in here first. Connor lives in a cabin off the cuddle cove, he built it himself over a few weeks when he started with us. There’s plenty of room in the house for him to stay up there, but he likes his own space, and to be honest, I reckon he likes being able to hear the cows at night.
Preston leans against the railing of Lily’s stall. “I’m okay, I had a late lunch,” he says.
“You sure?”
“If she starts getting in distress, I’d rather be here to help, save you running up the house to collect me and leaving her all alone.”
“We could get Atlas to come down, you know, just in case?”
“I’m good, I swear.”
Connor pulls open the mini barn door. “Well, I’m happy to leave you two to it. See you in a bit.”
Connor closes the door behind him, and it’s like the room just got ten degrees warmer. Preston is still leaning against the rail, his muscles bulging against the thin fabric of his dark green shirt. It’s one of those polo-type ones, with his vet’s logo printed on the pocket, and it makes his eyes shine a deep emerald. He’s got one foot up on the rail, and his cargo pants cling around his ass so perfectly. I try not to stare, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away. He sways back and forth, his pants tightening and relaxing. My throat goes dry, and my cock twitches. If I don’t force my gaze away, it will be my pants tightening, so I quickly move to stand beside him.
“So, how is…Cuddles?” Preston asks, and a smirk creeps onto his lips.
“Guddles is Cood,” I say, and immediately my face is on fire, and I turn my face the other way so that he won’t see and grip the wooden rail of the stall to try to get some semblance of control over my own body.
“I mean, he’s good. The shirt trick is working most of the time,” I say, keeping my eyes on the straw and hay floor.
“That’s good. What are you doing at night, though?”
“He’s been…umm. Sleeping with me,” I say, and he moves a step closer. Not so close that he’s touching, but close enough that even without looking, my body registers he’s there. How does he do that?
“Really?” he asks.
“Yeah, I tried a basket beside the bed with one of my shirts, but he’d just keep on crying. I reckon a newborn baby would be less clingy than this fella.”
While the room still feels like it’s warmer than a summer day in Georgia with him standing so close beside me, I’m grateful that the words are coming a little easier now.
“How is Poppy?” I ask, taking a risk and turn my head to look his way.
He’s even closer than I thought, and when his eyes lock on mine and his smile spreads across his face, it’s like the entire world stops.
“She’s amazing,” he replies with pure joy on his face. “It’s her birthday in a short while and all she wants is a cow, but you know the Mores’. They’ll never keep livestock on the farm. She’d be more likely to get abducted by aliens.” He chuckles. “I just wish I knew what to get her.”
“Can’t you ask Isabel?”
“I could, but I wanted to think of something on my own. We’ve been spending so much time together with her coming over to the clinic after school and helping out on weekends, that I should be able to come up with something but all I keep thinking of is ways to try to convince her grandparents to let her have a cow. It’s silly, I know.”
“It’s not. You want to do something special for her. I get it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. And look, I’m sure you’ll come up with an amazing gift. She’ll love it just because it’s her first birthday with her dad.”
“Shit. You’re right. This is even bigger than I thought,” he says, the frown deepening, and a pit sinks in my stomach. I wanted to help him. Encourage him, not make him feel worse and more stressed about Poppy’s birthday. Fuck.
I rest the palm of my hand on his shoulder, and his desperate eyes meet mine.
“It doesn’t matter what you give her, it will mean the world to her because it’s from you,” I say, praying the words are coming out how I want them to. In truth, they could be a bunch of gibberish for all I know. But his soft smile reassures me that I didn’t just spout some nonsensical dribble.
“Thanks. Maybe I could get her something cow-themed instead?”
“That would be good.”
“Do you guys do gift certificates?”
“For the cuddle cove?”
“Yeah, I could get her a year’s supply of sessions.”
“With how little you charge us for your services, she can have a lifetime pass on the house.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. Besides, how else can I guarantee we’ll always have someone here to give the mini moos some love?”
“I’m pretty sure Connor will never leave this place, actually I’m surprised you got him out of the mini barn with a bunch of new calves on the way.”
“Sally-May’s making his favorite cherry pie,” I say, and Lilly’s breathing gets louder, with more of a rumble sound in her throat. It’s weird to think how quiet a calf birth can be when it’s easy on them. It’s not like what you see in the movies for human births with screaming and panting. Lilly’s been breathing through her labor in huffs, a few moos here and there, but if you were walking past the mini barn, you wouldn’t even know there was a cow birthing in here. She snorts and then moos long, and I can hear the pain in her voice and when I look her way, she’s got the head and front legs of her calf out and then stands to start working on the last part.
Preston and I stay back, we’re here just in case she needs us, but for most of the herd, they birth fine on their own. It only takes another thirty seconds and a few good pushes and Lilly’s new little one is hanging almost all the way out, front hooves almost touching the ground, and I can hear it taking its first breaths.
“Come on, girl, you got this,” I say just as it slips free onto the soft bedded stall and Lilly spins around immediately licking her new baby’s neck. This isn’t her first time at the big show, so she knows what to do. We leave her to it, and Preston heads to the back to wash off.
“That app was spot on with these three,” he says, lathering his hands with soap at the basin.
“It’s nice not having to do the math, that’s for sure.”
“I’m sure you’re old hat at it by now,” he says with a slight blush rising to his cheeks. “Not that you’re old. You’re older than me, but that doesn’t mean you’re old. I just mean because you’ve had to do it a lot you should… I’m going to shut up now,” he says, washing the rest of the soap off his hands and turning away to dry them on the towel.
“I usually left that part for Nial. He was the math genius.”
“Really?”
“Yep, a bona fide human calculator that kid. Not that he would want ya to know it. Stumped the teachers all through school, they would swear he was cheating, but he just knew how to figure it out. Me, I’m better with my hands,” I say, and he smirks.
“I remember.”