The Billionaire Husband's Forgotten Wife

1. Ramona

— ? —

Ramona

The calf isn’t coming.

I shove my shoulder harder against the cow’s side, trying to keep her still while my father works behind her. His hands are slick with fluid and his jaw is set. I know that jaw. It means we’re running out of time.

“She’s not opening up fast enough.” He shifts his weight and the cow groans beneath us. “I need another pair of hands back here with me.”

“I’m right here, Dad.”

“I know you’re here, Ramona. That’s not what I mean.” He wipes his forehead with the back of his wrist. “We need another pair of hands. I called Wyatt Ranch and someone should be pulling up any second now.”

Fuck. The Wyatts.

Their horse barns are nicer than our house, and Julius can’t walk down the school hallway without somebody stopping him. I look down at my old sweatshirt, then try to push my damp hair out of my face.

They’ve got plenty of ranch hands. Please send one of them, not Julius.

“You called the Wyatts?” I dig my boots into the straw. “Dad, why would you call them? Of all the damn people in this county.”

“Because nobody else picked up, Ramona.” He still doesn’t look at me. “It’s either them or we let this calf die. Your choice.”

I don’t have an answer to that, so I keep my mouth shut and hold the cow tighter.

The barn door scrapes open and the cold rushes in.

“Mr. Delgado?” His voice carries across the hay bales. “Got here as fast as I could.”

Of course it’s him. Of course.

Julius Wyatt steps into the light wearing a Wyatt Ranch jacket and boots with real mud dried into the seams. His hair is shoved under a cap and there’s dried dirt smeared along his neck.

He doesn’t look like the polished guy from school right now, the one who’s always leaning against lockers with a crowd around him.

He looks like he actually knows how to work.

Don’t be impressed. He probably just drove through a puddle on the way here.

“Over here.” My father doesn’t look up from the cow. “Calf’s coming out backward and the mama’s not making it easy.”

Julius crosses the barn in long strides. He takes in the scene without asking stupid questions, which annoys me because I was ready to be annoyed by stupid questions. Then he reaches past me and grabs the cow’s side with both hands.

“I got her.” He adjusts his grip without looking at me. “You can let go.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said I got her.” He braces his weight forward. “Go help your dad.”

I don’t move. “Who said you could take over?”

“Nobody, but I’ve got a lot more weight to throw at her than you do, and she’s getting ready to kick.” He nods toward her back leg. “See how she’s shifting? Go help your dad. I’ve got this.”

“She’s not going to kick as long as I’m on her. I’ve been keeping her calm since before you got here.”

“And now I’m here.”

“Congratulations. Doesn’t mean shit.” I shove his arm back, my palm flat against his bicep, and plant myself between him and the cow. “This is my barn, that’s my calf, and you don’t get to walk in here and start giving orders.”

He stares at me. His mouth opens and shuts again.

Go ahead. Open your mouth. Give me a reason.

Instead he holds up both hands and takes a step back. “Okay. You win.”

“Your barn. Your calf.” He hooks his thumbs through his belt loops and waits. “Tell me what you need.”

He rocks back on his heels, and the corner of his mouth is fighting a smile, which makes it worse. “That calf’s still stuck, though. And your dad still needs help.”

The cow groans beneath my hands. My father swears quietly behind me.

Damn it.

“Then get over here.” I move my knee to give him room. “But let me show you where to put your hands before you start helping.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He crouches beside me, trying to keep a straight face.

“Here.” I guide his palm into place, keeping my fingers over his while she shifts beneath us. “Feel that? She keeps trying to get her head against the post. We need to keep her away from it.”

“I’ve got her.” He braces himself as she pushes harder.

The cow shoves against us. Julius leans with her, holding her clear of the post without crowding me.

“Is this right?” He looks across at me once she settles.

“Keep doing that.” I ease my shoulder away, letting him take more of her weight. “I need to help Dad.”

“I’ve got her.” He shifts his knee so I can get past.

I turn away before he can see my face and crawl around behind the cow. The smell of blood and birth hits me fresh. The calf’s back legs are visible but wrong, twisted in a way that makes my chest tight.

“Dad, I need you to guide the legs while I push.” I wipe my hands on my jeans. “Tell me when.”

Dad waits for the cow to strain before telling me to pull. I lean back with him, my fingers tightening around the towel as she bellows. Across from us, Julius’s boot slides through the straw. He resets it without lifting his hands, his shoulders straining beneath his jacket.

I catch myself watching when Dad adjusts his grip.

He’s strong. Fine. Pay attention to the calf.

“Again.” I grit my teeth. “Harder this time, Dad.”

My father’s hands work inside the cow while I push until my arms shake and sweat drips down my spine. The calf still isn’t moving.

“Shit, she’s still stuck.” I sit back on my heels and wipe my forehead against my sleeve.

“I need to free her leg.” Dad shifts closer, keeping his hands in place. “I can’t get it from this angle.”

“Tell me how to help.” I lean in beside him, but he shakes his head before I can reach forward.

“Give me a second, Ramona.” He adjusts his knee beneath him.

“I’m right here, Dad.” I hold my hands where he can see them. “You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

He looks at me, then talks me through what he needs. I follow his directions slowly, stopping when the cow jerks beneath us.

“Easy, girl. We’re helping you.” Julius lowers his head toward hers, keeping his palm against her neck.

He keeps talking while Dad adjusts my hand. I can’t make out every word, but the cow stops throwing her head, and I glance across at him.

He has straw stuck to his cheek. His jaw tightens when she pushes against him, but he shifts with her and keeps his voice low. He doesn’t look over to see whether I notice.

He has to be good at this, too. He couldn’t give me one thing to complain about.

“Is that better?” I turn back to Dad, keeping my hand where he puts it. “Tell me before I move.”

“There.” My father’s arm goes still. “Feel that? Push up and toward me.”

I push. The leg shifts. My father rotates and pulls and suddenly the calf is sliding free, landing in the straw in a wet heap with her legs folded wrong and her chest completely still.

“Come on, baby.” I scramble forward and press my hands against her ribs. “Come on, breathe for me.”

Julius drops beside me without being asked. He grabs a rag from the pile and starts rubbing her down, his shoulder bumping mine as he matches my rhythm.

“You can rub a little harder.” I work my towel along the calf’s back, making room for his hand beside mine.

He presses down, and I catch his wrist before he makes another pass.

“Ease up a bit. She’s only just got here.” I loosen my fingers so he can adjust.

“You’re going to have to show me what you mean.” He keeps his hand still beneath mine, watching where I put it.

“Try it this way.” I guide him through a stroke before letting go. “There, keep doing that.”

Our elbows bump as we work. He changes the angle of his arm without moving farther away, and I tuck the slipping towel beneath my palm.

“You could talk to her, too.” I bend closer to the calf’s head. “I’m running out of things to say.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.” He glances across at me, but his hands keep moving.

“You’ve known me for about ten minutes.” I nudge his elbow with mine.

“You’ve given me plenty to remember.” He pulls a dry fold of towel over his fingers.

“Then remember that I asked you to talk to her.” I keep my face lowered over the calf.

“You’re doing fine, girl.” He rubs carefully along her side.

I look up before I can stop myself.

She coughs, spraying fluid across my shirt. Before I can wipe it away, her chest rises beneath the towel. Her legs move against the straw, and I leave my palm against her ribs through the next breath.

“There you go, sweetheart. Keep doing that.” I bend over her, my voice cracking halfway through.

Dad sits back, bracing a hand against his knee. He lets out a long breath while Julius keeps rubbing beside me.

“You both did well.” Dad squeezes my shoulder, then reaches across to pat Julius’s arm.

“You did well, Ramona.” Julius’s arm brushes mine as he reaches for a dry fold of towel.

“I meant the calf when I told you to talk to her.” I look up at him. “But thanks.”

“I know what you meant.” His mouth twitches, and he keeps rubbing.

Julius is still beside me, his hands covered in fluid and straw, his cap knocked sideways. He’s staring at the calf with his lips parted and his chest rising fast, and none of that matches what I thought I knew about him.

“Are you okay?” I nudge his knee with mine when he stays bent over the towel.

He looks up, close enough that I can see gold in his brown eyes. There’s a wet streak across his cheek, but I spend longer looking at his eyes before reaching for a clean rag.

“I’m better now that she’s breathing.” He wipes his palms on his jeans. “Do you do this a lot?”

“I usually get through it without yelling at a Wyatt.” I hand him the rag without smiling. “That part’s new.”

“I’d hate to think you were getting bored.” He laughs as he takes it, his knee still resting against mine.

“Don’t you ride bulls?” I point to the streak on his cheek before he wipes the wrong spot. “I thought this would be easy for you.”

“I can get off a bull.” He lowers the rag and looks toward the calf. “I couldn’t do much for her except keep rubbing.”

I smooth the towel beneath my hand while the calf breathes against it.

“You helped her.” I glance back at him. “I probably didn’t need to yell so much.”

“You can skip that part when you thank me.” He nudges my knee with his before getting up.

“You did most of the work, anyway.” He offers me his hand and waits.