Chapter 4 #2
Kyla matched him. Her movements aligned with his without needing correction. She was present, and that was enough.
“Again,” he said.
She nodded.
The next contraction rolled through stronger. They pulled together, and the calf shifted forward in a way that told him they had succeeded.
“Keep it,” he said. His voice was tight. “Do not lose it.”
“I am not,” she said. There was no uncertainty in her voice now.
One more push and one more pull followed. The calf slid free in a rush of motion that left both of them breathing hard. For a second, neither of them moved.
The cow struggled upright. She turned immediately to her calf and began licking it with urgency. The sound filled the shed.
Titus let his hands drop. The tension drained out of his arms and left them shaking. He sat back on his heels. His body was slow to catch up with the fact that the work was done.
Across from him, Kyla stayed where she was. Her gloves were streaked. She watched the calf try to find its footing. They looked at each other then. The moment stretched just long enough to register what they had done together.
She gave a short exhale. “Okay,” she said. “That really happened.”
He nodded once. “Yeah.”
Neither of them moved to stand right away. For a few seconds, the work fell away. Only the sound of the cow and the uneven drag of their breathing remained.
Titus stayed where he was with his hands braced against his thighs. The strain in his arms settled into a deep ache. The calf lay on its side, slick and unsteady. It was already pushing against the world.
Across from him, Kyla shifted her weight. Her knees pressed deeper into the straw as she leaned back slightly. Her gloves were useless now. She peeled one off with her teeth and then the other. She dropped them without looking.
“You think it is okay?” she asked.
“It will stand,” he said. “Give it a minute.”
She nodded and her shoulders loosened by a fraction. The focus that had carried her through the work eased. Something quieter moved in behind it.
Titus became aware of how close they were. He felt the shared heat that lingered despite the cold air. Her knee brushed his when she shifted again. Neither of them moved away.
She let out a slow breath and dropped her gaze. She dragged one hand across her face and left a faint smear she did not notice. “That was...” She shook her head once and did not finish the thought.
“Yeah,” he said.
It was all either of them offered.
The calf struggled. It pushed up on unsteady legs and slipped. Then it tried again. Kyla watched it with a focus that softened her expression. The sharp edges of her composure were worn down.
“He is stubborn,” she said.
“They have to be,” Titus answered.
She glanced at him then. Something like a smile touched her mouth before it disappeared. “Figures.”
The moment settled between them. It was quiet but not empty. Titus found himself unwilling to break it.
Kyla shifted again. She turned toward him as if she had made a decision. Her hand came down on his shoulder first to steady herself as she adjusted her position. She did not pull away when she no longer needed the support. Her weight leaned into him.
Titus went still. His body registered the contact before his thoughts caught up. He could have moved, but he did not. Her other hand followed. Then she was closer in a way that left no space for misreading the situation. The line between them closed.
“Kyla,” he said. Her name was low. It was not a warning.
She did not answer him. Instead, she shifted her weight more fully. Her knee pressed against his thigh. Her body aligned with his in a way that made her intent clear without a single word.
This was not her world. That fact remained present. It sharpened the edge of what she was doing.
Titus’s hand came up and settled at her waist to steady her. His grip was firm. He waited and gave her space to stop if she chose to. She did not.
Her breath came uneven at first and then steadied as she adjusted. She found a rhythm that worked for her. The movement built gradually. The friction between them pulled his focus down to the point where their bodies met.
He tightened his grip slightly to hold her in place. His other hand braced behind him. He kept himself grounded as she moved against him. The contact turned deliberate and unmistakable.
Her head dipped forward. Her hair brushed his jaw as she drew closer. He could feel the heat of her breath at his neck.
“Kyla,” he said again. He was softer this time.
She shook her head once. Her fingers tightened at his shoulders. The pressure grounded her as much as it did him.
The shed remained what it had been. Straw lay under them while birth stayed fresh in the air. The cow shifted nearby. The calf continued to find its legs. None of it stopped what was happening between them.
Titus let her take what she needed. His hand stayed steady at her waist. His body responded without taking over. The control stayed with her.
Her breathing broke first. She took a sharp inhale she could not smooth out. A low sound followed. She pressed it into his shoulder as if that might contain it. Her movement tightened and then sharpened. The rhythm lost its evenness as she chased the end of the sensation.
He tightened his grip in response. He kept her close as the tension built and then gave way.
She stilled against him. Her body pulled tight for a second before it released. The motion was small but unmistakable. Her grip on him held for a beat longer and then loosened. Her breath came back uneven and slow.
Titus did not move right away. He kept his hand steady at her waist. He let the moment settle instead of breaking it apart.
Kyla stayed where she was. Her forehead dropped forward until it rested near his shoulder. For a second, she leaned into him for recovery. Then she pulled back.
The shift was small but decisive. Her hands left him first. Then her weight followed. The space between them opened again as she sat back on her heels. She did not look at him right away.
Instead, she reached for her jacket. She pulled it back into place with movements that were more controlled. When she finally met his gaze again, she appeared more contained.
“Thanks,” she said.
It was not about what had just happened. They both knew that.
Titus nodded once. “Yeah.”
The word carried little weight, but it was all he had.
Kyla pushed herself to her feet. Her legs were unsteady for a second before she found her balance. She grabbed the thermos she had brought and tucked it under her arm as she moved toward the door. She paused there with one hand on the wood. She looked as if she might say something else.
She did not.
The door opened and let in a rush of cold air. The wind cut across the warmth they had built. Then she stepped out into the dark. The door swung shut behind her with a dull sound.
The shed settled back into its usual rhythm after she left. It took longer than it should have for Titus to register the quiet.
He remained where he was with one hand still braced in the straw. The other rested on his thigh where her weight had been. The warmth she had pressed into him faded by degrees. It was replaced by the cold that worked its way back into the space.
Across the stall, the cow nudged her calf again. The animal staggered and then pushed up with stubborn insistence. Titus watched it without moving. His breathing was slow to even out.
He dragged a hand over his face. He felt the grit of dried sweat and straw against his skin. His muscles protested when he shifted. The effort of the night settled into a deep ache.
For a moment, he considered staying there. Then he forced himself to move.
He pushed to his feet. The motion was stiff. The shed came back into focus in pieces as he crossed to the cow. His hands returned to the work that did not wait.
He checked the calf first. He ran his palm along its side and felt for a steady breath. He felt for the strength that would carry it through the next few hours. The animal answered him in small ways. It gave a twitch and a push.
It would make it.
He moved to the cow next. His hand settled against her flank. He checked for tension or anything that might turn against them. She shifted under his touch. Her attention remained fixed on the calf.
Titus stepped back after that. His work was done. The space felt different now. It was not empty, but it was not the same as it had been before.
He glanced toward the door without meaning to. He looked as if the wood might offer something he had missed. There was nothing to see. Only the same cold remained. Still, the sense of her presence lingered in the way his body had not fully let go.
He exhaled slowly and turned away.
The rest of the night passed in small tasks. He moved toward morning by laying fresh straw and cleaning what he could. He moved through it all without giving himself space to linger. By the time gray light pushed under the door, exhaustion had caught up with him.
He sank down against the wall for a minute. His head tipped back and his eyes closed. Sleep took him in short, broken stretches. It was enough to dull the sharper edges of the night.
When he woke again, the shed had changed. Light filtered in stronger now. It was not enough to warm the space, but the outlines were clearer. The calf stood on its own. It was unsteady but upright. The cow hovered close.
Titus pushed himself up. He moved slower this time. His body reminded him of the struggle. He felt the ache in his arms and the stiffness in his legs.
He rolled his shoulders once and then again. As he moved, his hand brushed the side of his neck. He paused. The contact stopped him.
He pressed his fingers there, just below his ear. That was where her mouth had found him. The memory returned with a clarity that cut through the fatigue. It was not loud, but it was steady.
He stood there for a second with his hand still at his neck. Then he dropped it. There was work to do.
He finished what remained in the shed. He moved with efficiency, though something about the routine felt less contained. The work held, but it no longer shut everything else out.
When he stepped outside, the morning had taken hold. The yard stretched out in front of him. Pale light settled over the ground. The cold remained but it was less biting than it had been hours earlier.
He paused just beyond the door and scanned the space. There was no sign of her. There was no trace of where she had crossed the yard. She had come and done what she needed to do. Then she had left.
That should have been enough. For years, it would have been.
Titus stepped down into the yard. His boots found the packed ground. The day waited for him with work already lined up. Nothing about the ranch would adjust for what had happened in the shed. He moved into the chores.
The memory eased its grip without letting go.
Titus found himself back in the present barn with the chain still in his hand. The daylight was stronger now than it had been when he first picked it up. The smell of fresh straw replaced the sharp edge of that night. The air sat easier in his lungs.
He did not move right away. The past did not sit on him as something heavy. It remained instead as something carried.
He rolled the chain once more in his palm. Then he set it back where it belonged. Work waited. It always did.
As he turned toward the open barn door, the memory stayed with him. He remained aware of what had shifted. Kyla had walked into that shed without knowing what she would find. She had stayed anyway.
That fact did not leave him.
Titus stepped out into the daylight. The present settled around him, but it did not hold the same shape as before. Some things, once changed, did not return to what they had been. For the first time in a long while, he did not try to force them to.