Chapter Twenty-One
The scent of hay and dust clung to the afternoon heat in the barn. Margo watched wide-eyed as Hawkeye tended to the tiny, scrawny calf. The mama cow had died and Hawkeye had been working through the night to save the weak baby.
“She doesn’t want to eat,” he seemed worried.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Margo asked, hovering her hand over the calf’s soft fur.
“She’s a fighter, but it could go either way. She has a journey ahead of her. The little one’s got to learn to live without her mama.” He picked up the bottle of warm milk.” Hawkeye looked up at Margo and asked, “Want to try and feed her? You might have the golden touch.”
She felt both excited and leery. “How do I?”
“Come and have a seat.” He scooted over on the bale of hay, giving her room. Once she was seated, he handed her the bottle. “Don’t shove it at her. Let her find the nipple, just as she would if she were feeding from her mama. You got to be very gentle because she is spooked at everything.”
Margo clutched the bottle with both hands, holding it near the skittish calf. She jerked in alarm and backed up. “Poor girl. She misses her mama.”
“She’s been through a lot already.”
Hawkeye laid his hands over Margo’s on the bottle and together they held it while the calf, driven by instinct and hunger, sniffed at the nipple. She took it hesitantly. The suckling sound gave them hope that she might somehow survive.
“That’s it’s, girl. Keep taking it,” Hawkeye said in a muffled voice to not startle her. He removed his hands and let Margo continue feeding alone. “That’s it. She’s beginning to trust you. Her sucks are getting stronger. I knew you had that beautiful touch.”
Seeing the little girl taking the bottle brought tears to Margo’s eyes. She’d never seen something so precious. It touched her heart, and she knew she’d love this sweet, vulnerable calf forever.
“Talk to her as you feed her. It builds a bond between you and her. That way when you’re taking care of her, she’ll know you’re going to help her.”
Margo caught the meaning of his words. “Me? Helping her?”
“You have a way with her. She wouldn’t eat much for me but look at her now, eating for you.”
“You’re a good girl. Yes, you are,” Margo said in a whisper. “I feel like she needs a name.”
“Then name her,” Hawkeye said.
“She looks like a Hope to me.”
“Then Hope it is.” His smile creased the skin around his eyes.
A lot had changed between them over the last few days.
She’d watched the strong, tough cowboy soften.
He’d shown her affection during their lovemaking, and now here, the fragile calf brought out a gentleness in him that one wouldn’t expect from a rugged cowboy.
She watched him transform—watched him become the man she could easily fall in love with.
Could or had?
Was it possible that she already loved him?
“I think she’s done.”
Hawkeye’s words pulled her back. Hope was jerking her head away from the nipple. Margo set the bottle aside and lifted the calf in her arms to cradle her tiny body.
“You’re already getting a hang of what Hope needs.”
The calf made gentle soft noises before finally falling asleep. “She’s adorable.”
“She’s beautiful.”
She realized Hawkeye wasn’t speaking of the calf. He was looking at Margo. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” she told him. “Are you finished for the day?”
“I have a couple things to do, and I can be at the cottage in let’s say a half hour. Is that okay?”
“Sure.” She stood and placed Hope in a bed of straw. She and Hawkeye quietly left the barn and started on the path. “See you soon,” she told him and headed for the cottage.
His growl followed her a few feet.
She liked knowing she could excite him.
Home, she showered, dressed then shut off the crockpot of chili she’d been cooking all day.
Taking down bowls, spoons, and setting out the last bottle of wine she’d been given, she scanned everything, wanting things to be perfect.
“Aw, I know what I’m missing.” She turned on the radio to the only station it picked up. She didn’t mind the country music.
She jotted down her thoughts in the notebook. The words had been flowing, and she had nearly filled all three notebooks Hawkeye had brought her.
The soft knock came at the door, and she hurried to open it, feeling a flutter of butterflies at seeing him. He’d changed and his hair was damp from a shower. The top few buttons of his shirt were left unbuttoned like he’d been in a hurry to see her.
“Hungry, cowboy?” she asked when he strode in, and she closed the door. The cottage had become their own private haven that belonged to just the two of them. Here no one bothered them. The world stayed on the other side of the walls.
“Something smells delicious.” He wagged his brows.
“Chili in the crockpot. CaDee allowed me access to her pantry and freezer.”
“That smells good, but I was referring to you.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, kissing her languorously on the mouth.
When he stepped back her breathing was labored. The man could unravel her so easily.
“Let me make you a bowl.” She put a special swing in her hips as she sashayed to the counter.
She sang along to the music while filling the bowls.
She felt so alive, and she wanted to feel this way forever.
Everything was coming together in her life, but how could she be so happy when outside of Fin’s Creek there were evil men wanting to cause her harm?
“You okay with wine? I also have fresh lemonade.”
“I’ll take lemonade.”
She set the table, and they sat down. He dug into his meal hungrily.
When she didn’t start eating, he laid his hand on the table. “There’s something going on inside that pretty head, Miss Margo,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting,
She hesitated then reached for the folded piece of paper from her pocket and slid it over to him.
He unfolded it. “Nice work. Glad to see you like to draw.”
She stared at him a few heartbeats, looking up at him through her lashes. “Seriously? Carsen drew this.”
“For you?”
She shook her head. “No. I found this in a stack of his drawings. This,” she stabbed the picture with her finger, “is a man who Carsen said he saw outside at dark walking through the yard.”
Hawkeye took the drawing back and looked at it again before giving it back to her. “You’re thinking he saw the same person you did looking in the window?”
“Yeah, I think so. He doesn’t seem like a kid who lies.”
“Nah, I don’t think so either, but you know how many times I saw monsters and boogeymen walking around my house? Too many to count. And who knows, maybe it was Sharp or one of the hands.”
Her shoulders slumped. “You’re right.”
He reached over and lifted her chin. “Hey, come here.” He patted his lap.
She got up from the chair and sat down on his lap, laying her head on his shoulder. “Don’t laugh but I wondered if it could be Bradley roaming at night.”
“He laughed but he sobered when she looked at him without any sign of joking. “Bradley? A peeping tom? No, I don’t think so.”
“I’m not calling him a peeping tom. I’m suggesting that he’s…well, showing signs of illness. Maybe he doesn’t realize what he’s doing and walks at night. My grandmother would do that too.”
He blinked. “A part of me feels like you want to convince yourself so badly that you saw someone in the window that you’re starting to speak it into existence.”
She got up from his lap and put distance between them. “That’s not very nice.”
He blew out his breath. “And neither is accusing old men of looking through windows.”
“Pretend I didn’t say anything.” She walked into the kitchen and ran water into one side of the sink, squirted in dish soap, then started scrubbing the dirty dishes with vigorous energy.
He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling his nose in her hair. “I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She let the bowl she was washing sink into the water, and she turned to face him, placing her soapy hands on his shoulders. “I know how it must have sounded. I guess it doesn’t make any sense.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “The chili was delicious. The company is even better. Let’s not waste our time on arguing. There’s something else I’d rather do.” He lifted her into his arms.
“Dean! I’m doing the dishes.” She liked using his real name.
“They can wait. I cannot.” He wriggled his brows.
He laid her down on the bed and they stretched out together.
She placed her palm on his cheek. “Can you stay tonight?”
“Yes. Wild horses couldn’t pull me away.”
She would cherish every moment with him. Yet, until he asked her to stay, she would remind herself that they had an expiration date.