Chapter 18
Hoof-trimming day came every three months on Old Tom’s farm, and Miri had forgotten that the Englischer hoof trimmer was coming to do half the herd today. She only remembered when her gaze landed on the calendar, and she saw her own handwritten note to remind them.
Hoof-trimming was a lot of work. Tom had talked plenty about it, and she’d even come once when her own cattle were having their hooves trimmed to watch the process.
She knew that she’d have to separate out the animals that were being worked on, and since the barn was being used for the sick cattle, she had to consider where else he could set up.
The one time she’d seen the trimmer at work, he’d had a special cow tipper that he carried along behind his truck.
The machine worked like a squeeze chute, and then it tipped the animal sideways so the feet were presented to be trimmed.
When the work was done, the bovine was set back on its feet.
It was an ingenious setup. But the trimmer could take his truck and cow tipper into a field, couldn’t he?
Perhaps they could set up a chute in a smaller pasture. . . .
She gulped down the last of her granola and washed the bowl in the sink right away, setting it in the dish rack to dry. She looked out the kitchen window and spotted Moses, who had just arrived. She found herself smiling. The day seemed to improve when Moses showed up.
“Good morning!” she called.
Moses put his horse into the corral and came sauntering back toward the house.
There was something more relaxed about his rolling gait today.
Maybe he was just more comfortable with her, or maybe she was just noticing.
He looked like he had a fresh bandage on his thumb, and the morning sun shone off his straw hat.
His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows.
“’Morning, Miri!” he called back.
“You’re a bit later this morning,” she said as he came up the steps.
“Daet and Benuel needed a hand with one of the cows that is getting her hooves trimmed later on today. We had to get her into a stall. She’s got an abscess, so she’s priority.”
“Your cattle are getting their hooves done today too?” she asked.
“What do you mean ‘too’?”
“We’ve got the trimmer coming here this morning. He’s due any minute. He must be working the area.”
Miri stepped into her boots. There wasn’t time to waste if they were going to have the cattle ready. And this being her first time as owner of the farm, she needed time to think it all through. Moses stopped at the top step, his gaze meeting hers.
“Is that a good idea to have him trim hooves with an outbreak on the farm?” he asked.
“It’s scheduled,” she replied.
“But we’ve got bovine viral diarrhea here,” Moses countered.
We. It wasn’t his farm, though—it was hers. The distinction shouldn’t matter to her, she knew, but somehow it rankled this morning.
“He doesn’t do the whole herd at once anyway,” she replied. “We’ll do only the cattle that are healthy.”
“Where will he work?”
“I’ve thought of that,” she said. “It stands to reason that he can drive out into a field. I mean, he’s got that big pickup truck, right?”
“Normally the trimmer works in the barn.” Moses crossed his arms over his chest, and she shot him an annoyed look. She wasn’t a fool. She knew the basics, and Tom had explained a lot. “This should have been cancelled,” he went on, “or put off at the very least. An extra few weeks won’t matter.”
She’d forgotten, and she was frustrated with herself for not having looked at the calendar. This was her farm now, and she’d even made the appointment herself. She needed to prove she was competent enough to run this farm, and she was already making mistakes. But she could still fix this.
“True, but I didn’t think to cancel the trimmer, and he’s on his way. We have to think about his time too,” she replied.
“I get that, Miri, but we’re risking sending him away with contaminated tires on his truck. He could bring the illness to any other farm.”
To his father’s farm. That was the worry. And she didn’t blame him for it. “Since he’s on his way, and there is no way to cancel now, maybe we can find a way to get the job done without his truck going anywhere near the contaminated animals. It won’t hurt to ask.”
A muscle twitched in Moses’s jaw. She could tell he was irritated. His eyes had started to spark with a different energy from his laid-back warmth of just a few minutes ago.
“It’ll cost something to cancel the appointment too,” she added.
“I don’t want my daet’s animals getting this virus. You have to think about the other farms he’ll be working on.”
“So we’ll spray down his tires with bleach water before he leaves.” There had to be a solution. “Moses, this is my call to make.” She brushed past him and marched down the steps.
“It’s the wrong call.”
Miri stopped on the step and turned to face him, but he was far closer than she’d anticipated, only a couple of inches, and she had to tip her face up to look at him.
This close, she could see some freckles on his cheeks and flecks of amber in his brown eyes.
She swallowed, and he suddenly stilled. The irritation of just a moment ago seemed to seep away.
“You’re supposed to be helping me,” she said, and her voice came out strangled.
“I’m trying,” he murmured. “Don’t forget, I know a thing or two about this farm.”
Was he right about the hoof trimming? He probably was. He’d helped Old Tom for years compared to her couple of months. He’d been here day in and day out doing chores and reporting back to his dawdie when Miri was only visiting occasionally. She licked her lips.
“I don’t like being bossed around, Moses,” she said.
And that was the root of it. She didn’t like having a man order her around or tell her what to do, and she felt like if she didn’t stay firm with this property, she’d have it whipped out from under her, will or no will.
She’d be relegated to the house, and before she knew it, she’d be asking Moses for an update on her own property.
A smile tickled his lips. “I wouldn’t dare boss you around, Miri. I don’t think it’s possible.”
Well, he was pushing pretty hard about this issue, and he seemed to feel like he still had a right to call the shots around here. But it was her land and her herd. And she wasn’t backing down.
She started to turn, but Moses also turned, and she collided with his solid shoulder and stumbled.
A strong hand clamped around her waist, catching her and holding her upright.
She put her hand on his forearm, mostly to catch herself, and she could feel ropes of muscle under her fingertips.
He was stronger than she’d realized, as sturdy as a brick wall.
Miri lifted her gaze once more, and this time, Moses looked surprised. He didn’t move his hand from her waist, though, and she realized that it did feel rather nice being in Moses’s arms, even if it was by accident.
“Oh,” she whispered. She’d meant to say something a little more intelligent than that, but she couldn’t think of anything with his hand on her waist. She hadn’t moved her hand, either, and the warmth of his skin under her fingers made him feel even closer.
Moses’s gaze moved down to her lips, and she felt his fingers splay across her waist. Her breath caught just as the sound of an engine rumbled at the top of the drive.
The hoof trimmer—and not a moment too soon.
Moses pulled his hand away, but he caught her fingers in his for a split second before he stepped down the stairs and away from her.
What had just happened between them? Miri’s heart hammered against her rib cage. The truck slowly rolled toward them, and she tried to calm that pattering heartbeat.
“You really think I’m wrong?” she asked Moses.
He crossed his arms again, but his gaze had softened to something almost tender. “It doesn’t matter. It’s your call. Let me know what you want me to do.”
So he was going to back off, after all. She gave him a shaky smile. It would help if he agreed with her, but it was her call. When the truck rolled to a stop, Miri headed over to the vehicle. The door opened, and a young man hopped out.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Morning, ma’am. I’m Rob Dallaire, and I’m here for the hoof care. Is Tom Yoder home?”
He hadn’t heard. Of course—no one had called him since Tom’s passing. She hadn’t even thought of it.
“Tom passed away three weeks ago,” Miri said. “He left the farm to me, so I’m the one you’ll be dealing with from here on out.”
“Oh.” Rob sobered, and his gaze moved past her toward Moses. “Your grandfather?”
“Yah, my grandfather,” Moses confirmed.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Rob’s words were for Moses first, and then he looked back at Miri. “Truly.”
“Thank you,” Miri replied. “But we have a situation here, and I wanted your input.”
She glanced at Moses, whose expression was impassive.
“We have an outbreak of bovine viral diarrhea,” she said. “The sick animals are quarantined in the barn, and the healthy animals seem to be staying healthy at this point. Do you think it would be safe to do the hoof trimming for the healthy animals in the field?”
Rob slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got a policy about outbreaks. I won’t risk infecting other animals. Working with hooves, we can pass anything on with my tools. We’ll have to reschedule for when your herd is completely healthy again.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“I normally would charge a fee for having to come out here, but considering the death and all that, I’ll waive it this time. Here is my card”—he pulled one out of his front shirt pocket—“and you can give me a call once your veterinarian gives you a clean bill of herd health.”
Miri had been wrong, and Moses had been right. That stung a little bit.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the card. “I’ll do that.”
“Again, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Rob said, including Miri in his sympathetic look this time. “Take care.”
When the truck disappeared back up the drive again, Miri turned back toward Moses. He was watching her with a cautious look on his face.
“You were right,” she said.
“I know.”
She ground her teeth. Why was this all so impossible? One minute she thought Moses was going to kiss her, and the next he was driving her straight up the wall.
“I’m not going to know how to do everything,” she admitted. “But I don’t want to be pushed out of running this farm. This is my dream, Moses. I know it was yours, too, but a woman running things? Even that hoof trimmer was looking to you first.”
“We’ve met before,” Moses replied.
Right. Moses would’ve been working on the farm during trimmings for a few years now.
She nodded. “You understand what I’m talking about, though. In our community, everyone is going to be trying to send me right back into that kitchen, and you know it.”
Her parents, her sister, the bishop, the elders, the women . . . There was a whole culture here that was focused on keeping everything the same. Tradition was strong.
“Not me,” Moses said.
But Miri wasn’t so sure of that. This was why she couldn’t get married now, because the minute she gave her heart to a man, he’d be slipping the farm out of her grasp.
Even her uncle had suggested the possibility of Moses trying to sweet-talk her into marriage to get his hands on this property.
She’d dismissed it then, but that charged moment on the step had taken her by surprise.
“All the same,” Miri said, “I’d rather run a farm than a kitchen, and I finally get to make that choice.”
Moses didn’t answer her, and she headed back up toward the yard.
“I finished the stable this morning on my own,” she called over her shoulder. “So I guess we’d best check on the sick cattle again and see if we need to call in Tabitha.”
Moses started after her, his long legs quickly closing the distance between them, and they walked together toward the barn. She glanced over at him uneasily, but he seemed to have softened again, and he met her gaze easily enough.
“Are we okay?” she said. She didn’t want to fight with him or offend him or anything like that. She wanted them to be friends.
“We’re okay,” he replied.
And as they walked, she remembered the feeling of his arm around her and the closeness that had felt both wrong and right at the very same time. She wanted to ask him what he’d been thinking. She wanted to see if he’d been as surprised as she’d been by that moment, but she didn’t dare bring it up.
Moses Yoder was like any other man, and given an inch, he’d take back his farm. Whatever was brewing between them, she’d better put a stop to it. Women had to fight for every freedom they acquired, and she could not give ground. Not now.