Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
TRISTON
“ S o which of these is the one that hates Beau?” I ask as I climb over the fencing of the pasture immediately surrounding the Highlands barn.
We spent all of yesterday getting the calves moved back from the deeper grazing areas in preparation for branding them today.
As long as everything goes well and no one decides to be a diva and need additional medication for an infection, we’ll have them back with the rest of the herd by this time next week.
Kyle grabs one of the ropes and double-checks the knot holding the loop. “Molly. 2571. She’s the brindle with the dun calf this year. She’ll probably be a peach for you, though. Her hatred is for Beau alone.”
I can’t help but snicker as Beau scowls. Ethan walks by, adjusting his chaps, dropping a couple of the knives he uses to trim the herd’s hooves into his back pocket.
“If we can manage to not panic her calf, that would be great,” he says. He tests one of the temporary fence joints to make sure it’ll hold. “It’s the first dun she’s dropped, and I’m hoping it’ll test sound enough to add it to the breeding program in another couple years.”
Beau’s scowl deepens. “You mean the calf who is just like her damn mother and has it out for me?”
Jake barks a laugh as he winds the extension cord running from the barn to keep it out of the way, and Kyle grins.
“Not our fault you seem to be a magnet for the cows that drop the best genetics, man.” Kyle lowers his hat and then puts on his gloves.
“Well, that just means you get to be the one herding them in here and away from their overprotective mothers. I’ll sit up here and help hold them down for Jake, thank you.”
I adjust my own cowboy hat before climbing the temporary fencing, straddling it like it’s a chute in the arena, the move as natural as breathing.
I hook the rope Kyle hands me using a loop on my chaps and then stretch my neck.
Beau mirrors me on the other side, sitting on the top rung with his knees spread wide, his elbows on his knees.
Paul grunts as he unlocks the chain holding the nearest gate closed, swinging the metal until it connects with our makeshift chute and then reattaching the chain.
“Maybe you should sit this year out,” he says. “Emily’s probably had all the stress she can manage this month after Billings last week. She’ll skin Ethan alive if you manage to get gutted today.”
The air grows charged. Most of me wants to duck my head in embarrassment, knowing they’re talking about me fucking Emily, but I manage to keep my gaze on the cows and my cheeks from flushing a deep red. Ethan raises an eyebrow as his eyes dart to me.
His voice is dry when he says, “Triston’s the pro here at keeping irritated cattle from killing him. We’ll let him handle Molly.”
Kyle cackles as I frown. Before I can figure out a decent clap back, though, he hops the fence and starts guiding the calves toward the open gate.
The first couple are a bit awkward as we all settle into the rhythm of branding, relearning everyone’s role for this season.
It takes Ethan three tries to give the antibiotic shot to the first calf—something Beau chirps him relentlessly for.
Despite there being literally inches between me and the calves, I manage to miss the hold on the second one.
“Come on, man! You do this for a job in front of thousands!” Kyle groans.
I scoff. “I absolutely do not. Those bulldoggers are fucking crazy.”
That just has Paul laughing, grabbing his knees as he stops one of the calves from hightailing it back into the small barn pasture.
Steer wrestlers aren’t actually crazy. No more than I am or any of the other athletes that compete.
But it’s fun to dog on them sometimes, especially since so many people like to highlight how dangerous and stupid bull riding is.
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Paul says. “Bulldoggers are nuts for highlighting shit we have to do all the damn time. But getting on the back of a big ass bull—something we never, ever have to do outside of proving we’re the baddest fucker around—is completely logical.”
I roll my eyes even as I grin. “Yeah, well, at least when I’m on the back of one, there’s four people in the arena with me making sure I have help just in case. You know how many people they have? None. Just their buddy that decided they weren’t brave enough to jump off their horse.”
Now Kyle cackles, too.
He starts to say something, but then the next calf runs into our makeshift chute.
Beau snags him, and we focus on business again.
By the fourth calf, we’re a well-oiled machine, and the morning passes with little issue.
It’s not until we’re down to the last dozen or so calves that the scales tip out of our favor.
“All right. We just have that last batch from the beginning of April left,” Paul says. “Should I pull Molly first or have her go last?”
Ethan looks up from the stack of syringes he’s double-checking against the records he keeps of all the cattle, one eyebrow raised in question.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much will Emily actually freak out if Molly fucks him up?” Jake asks, leaning against the far side of the fencing, the electric brander dangling casually from one hand.
“An eight. Let’s do her last just in case she’s decided Beau’s not enough of a target anymore.” Then Ethan sighs and glares at the cow still in the barn paddock. “And then I suppose if she does, I’ll add her to the cull list. No genetics are worth a cow that won’t tolerate anyone.”
Paul touches the brim of his hat in acknowledgement and forces Molly and her calf back. She eases out of his way like she’s the most docile cow we have in the herd. I can’t help but smirk as Beau mutters a colorful curse.
“Just me. What the fuck does she have against me?”
I shrug.
“Probably all your barn escapades,” Ethan mutters.
Now I blush. Beau only sighs.
“Well, I guess that’s a worthwhile reason to be on her shit list. Not taking back any of those. With either of them.”
The calf goes running into the pasture past Jake. Ethan holds up his hand with the now-empty syringe.
“Just stop,” he groans. “I do not want to know about any of them, especially the ones involving my sister.”
Kyle laughs now, too, even as I grin and snag the calf that’s next, keeping him still while Jake brands the inside of its ear.
Branding’s something that’s becoming less common with the rise of microchipping and ear tags and geolocation collars.
But Ethan still uses it, and the companies he sells to don’t care either way.
The highlands herd’s brands aren’t as noticeable as the larger Hereford ones.
But given the rise in popularity of the breed over the last decade, it’s important to have the clear mark of ownership just in case.
Ethan gives the injection of antibiotics, and then I release the calf.
It runs through the narrow opening into the larger pasture we’ve separated from the barn paddock.
Its mom comes right up to it, confirming we haven’t done anything to harm it.
I’m so busy watching it reintegrate that I miss the initial commotion.
“Ah fuck ,” Kyle says. “Incoming!”
Beau quickly swings one leg over the fence, but not before Molly’s running full tilt toward him.
He dodges just enough she misses anything vital, but her horn catches him in the arm.
There’s a horrible scream, and then I’m sliding into the space between her and Beau, doing what all those bullfighters do for me.
She twists for a moment and then turns back to Beau.
I push her away, ignoring the dull ache from her ramming my hand.
“Out,” I murmur. “Before Ethan follows through.”
I take a step toward her, and she backs away from me.
Like a flipped switch, the aggression is gone.
She looks toward Jake and follows him right back into the larger pasture.
When I turn around, Ethan and Kyle are already with Beau, evaluating if he’ll need to get to Jackson.
When Ethan looks up, his mouth tight and his gaze grim, I strip out of my chaps and grab one of the first aid kits we keep at each barn.
“Shit, man,” Paul says. “She got you good .”
I wordlessly hand him the first aid pack and then pull out my phone, dialing Emily without even looking at the screen.
“Triston?” There’s the sound of Penny laughing in the background and Brielle’s calm timbre.
“Em,” I say, taking a step away from the guys so she won’t hear their cursing.
All I can see is her terrified, tear-filled gaze when she admitted her fear that registering with the Council would cause some accident to happen.
“I need to tell you something, but first I need you to remember that you didn’t cause this, okay? ”
“Cause what?” Her voice is sharp now.
Kyle helps Beau off the fencing, helping him keep balance while he holds a thick piece of gauze to his right forearm. There’s a smaller puncture on his left palm but neither of them seem overly worried about that one.
“Beau has to go to Jackson.”
There’s a long silence.
“How bad?” The words are flat, the way she gets when she’s beyond terrified.
“Not bad. Enough he needs stitches, but not bad.”
“I want to go.”
I look over at Ethan. His cocked eyebrow communicates the question well enough. I nod once.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” he says. “Tell her she needs to be at Mom and Dad’s in the next ten, though.”
There’s movement on the other end of the phone and then Caleb’s calm voice.
“Yeah, I’ve got her. No worries.”
“I’ll be there,” she says.
And then the line goes dead.