Page 139 of Cowboy Daddies

Forget fighting. I was choosing that other option. The one that only had to do with flight. I was halfway to my feet when I realized that I had absolutely no clue as to which direction to flee. The next sounds had me fearing I’d soon be wetting my pants until I realized that high-pitched keening was coming from me. It didn’t matter which direction I picked, I just needed to go!

I stood and took off. Running away might have been my plan, but it wasn’t really an option. Not when there were logs and roots and rocks the size of houses surrounding me. The best I could do was walk fast and use my hands as makeshift machetes to hack away at low hanging limbs and vines that I could only pray wouldn’t make me want to scratch my skin off. Not that I was going to stop and actually count leaves. A rash from poison oak or ivy would be a small price to pay if it meant I would find my way home.

The keening had become whimpers as I passed a boulder that I’d swear I’d seen before.

Maybe it has a twin?

I was too exhausted and far too scared to converse with that voice that sounded exactly like my own, but appreciated her attempt to calm my fear that I was fleeing in circles. Still, I slowed a bit and turned around to look behind me, praying I was just a little off-course. This time when I tripped, I didn’t land on my hands and knees.

Nope, this time, something hit me at knee level and I tumbled backward, squealing when I realized it wasn’t a rotten wheelbarrow that had given up the ghost. Nope, this was a huge, living breathing monster. As I slid over its back, my fingers scrabbled to get a grip but the surface was wet and slimy. When the creature bellowed, I screamed and, mercifully, the world turned black.

Unfortunately, the blackness lasted only until I opened my eyes. “Gross,” I muttered, waving my hand in front of my face as I sucked in a wave of fetid air. That was enough for me to realize that I wasn’t dead and I wasn’t being ripped limb from limb or being gobbled into some bloody maw. Instead, I was lying face to face with the monster who had the worst breath and the biggest brown eyes I’d ever seen.

“You’re not a bee,” I said.

“Moooo.”

I giggled. “Well, look at that. You’re not a monster either. You’re a cow.” Long lashes blinked and I sat up to get a better look. “Why are you lying down? Aren’t cows supposed to stand up all the time or something? Or is that horses? Or sharks?”

“Moooooo…”

“Sorry. Give me a minute. I’m still a little rattled here.” I reached out to stroke the cow’s cheek and realized my hand was really sticky. I wasn’t sure if one could transfer poison sap from a touch, but I wasn’t going to take a chance. I looked around and saw the backpack a few feet away. Once I’d grabbed it, I dumped its contents on the ground. At the sight of the thermos, I smiled and wiped my hand on my jeans instead. No reason to waste perfectly good water washing when a drink sounded great right about now. I’d unscrewed the lid and was pouring water into the top that doubled as a cup when the cow mooed again.

“Are you thirsty?” Not waiting for an answer, I held the cup out, almost spilling it when a very large tongue appeared. “Whoa, if you were wearing a white cap and pretending not to be a wolf, I’d say what a big tongue you’ve got,” I said and giggled. This wasn’t going to work. Instead, I made a cup with one hand and filled it with water. Granted, at least half of it didn’t make it into the cow’s mouth, but at least some did. After taking a drink myself, straight from the thermos as I was positive germs on swiping tongues could be transferred, I pressed my hand to the cow’s side to push myself up. When another moo came, this one sounding like I was the ax murderer instead of the killer I’d imagined my new friend to be, I froze for a second time.

“Oh, are you hurt? Is that why you’re lying down?” It wasn’t yet completely dark but still, the cow was black, which didn’t help. “I’m sorry if I’m hurting you.” I slowly began to run my fingers over the cow’s hide. It didn’t take very long to find out why my hands were wet and sticky. A long, jagged scratch ran down one side from neck to belly. A belly that had me looking back over my shoulder.

“You’re gonna have a baby!” I didn’t even need her moo of confirmation before adding, “And poor thing, you are hurt.”

Bees and such were forgotten as I switched my mission from beekeeper to nurse. Granted, I wasn’t really qualified to do either, but I was sure going to give it my best try. I grabbed the sheet I’d brought to wrap around the skep once I’d enticed the bees inside and used it to staunch the flow of blood that ran down the cow’s side. I knew it had to hurt when I pressed my body weight against her, but the cut was long and I really needed to stop the blood. I started singing softly to her as if she could understand, but even if she didn’t, the songs helped me not to panic. I had no clue how she’d wound up in the woods, how long she’d been lying down, or what I was going to do next, but life had taught me to take it one step at a time.

When I could no longer see blood oozing, I chanced carefully moving back and after finishing the last line of the song, moved to squat at her head and give her a few pats, bloody hands be damned. Besides, they became semi-washed when I poured her handfuls of water until the thermos was empty.

“I’d give you something to eat, but I’m afraid I ate the last of the cookies. Do cows eat cookies?” She simply looked up at me with an expression that asked if bears did you-know-what in the woods. I giggled and then suggested, “I think it might be better if we don’t even think about bears, okay?” In fact, I was pretty sure I should be quiet in order to hear anything that might decide we’d make a tasty meal. Yep, shouldn’t have thought about that either!

When the first crack of thunder sounded, I jumped about two feet and when the rain started, I looked toward the heavens and shrugged before looking back at the momma-to-be. “Looks like we’re both going to get a free shower. It’ll be nice not to be so icky-sticky, right, girl?”

She mooed and I found the thermos and held it up. Might as well fill it while getting soaked to the skin. I was concentrating so hard on catching our next drink that I barely jumped when another rolling rumble sounded. However, as a flash of light split the air to our right, its accompanying crack had me dropping the thermos and slapping my hands over my ears. I wasn’t sure who jumped higher, me or my new friend. Though I couldn’t call what she did a jump. She lunged to her feet and without so much as a thank you, took off running, knocking me on my ass… again.

Chapter Three

Lincoln

Instinct was the only thing that saved me from being plowed into. Jumping off the log, I landed and immediately pivoted to my left to keep out of its path. Still, I grunted when something whipped across my shirt.

Rubbing my chest, I turned to watch as the apparition fled and when it suddenly separated itself from the running form and floated toward me, I batted it away.

I’d never heard of spirits dividing into parts before either. Nor was I aware of anyone ever being able to touch an actual phantom, much less hold one. The white settled to drape over my hand and my arm as well as swept against the ground. Correction, it wasn’t totally white. Dark splotches dotted the surface.

“Polka-dotted Casper-wannabes do not exist,” I stated firmly.

“Mooooooooo!”

Childhood beliefs evaporated as I realized the mass was the very cow I’d been searching for and that the “ghost” I had captured was actually a sheet. I turned to look in the direction the cow had come. Why would a sheet be in the middle of the woods? And who had been screaming? When another moo, this one sounding far more urgent was bellowed, I left stories behind to deal with reality.

Having left my lariat on the saddle horn, I twisted the sheet into a makeshift rope. It was far too thick to be used as a lead, but with a few light touches, worked to direct the expectant cow to the break in the fence. The long scratch down her side confirmed she’d run into the barbed wire taking this path. When the hole was again in sight, I could only hope that the wire I’d kicked aside had gone far enough away so as not to twist around her hooves. I held my breath until she was safely through, following close enough behind to keep her motivated but well out of kicking range in case she got tangled up again. The thought of us both on the ground bleeding wasn’t exactly the cherry on top of the day’s sundae I wanted to taste.

“Come on, girl, let’s get you home,” I said.