Page 24 of Taming the Wild Cowboy

They laid the calf in the deep straw of one of the holding pens and Mac’s heart squeezed as the baby blinked brown eyes at them, his tongue still protruding from his mouth.

“He’s weak, but I think if we get some milk in his belly, he has a chance.”

“How do we do that?”

He gave her a frowning look as if surprised she didn’t know. “We’re going to milk the cow.”

Maclyn looked at the frothing cow digging up dirt at the barn gate, then back at Trev who showed no signs of being sarcastic.

“Okay,” she said in as strong of a voice as she could muster. “Let’s do this.”

*

Wade had asked if Maclyn was squeamish. If she was, she hid it well. Trev lured the cow into the barn—more accurately, she charged into the barn once the gate was open—maneuvered her into the squeeze chute, then caught her head in the stanchions.

“You’re really going to milk her?” Maclyn asked as he got the buckets. She sounded incredulous and he could see her point, given the way the cow rocked the chute before he’d gotten her squeezed down.

“As long as I keep out of range of that back foot, I’m good.” The mama was already beginning to calm now that her baby was in front of her and no humans were touching him, but every now and again she’d test the restraints, banging and kicking.

“How often does this happen?”

“Not all that often, not counting the heifers. This little guy probably spent too long in the birth canal. It wears them out.” He managed to loop a rope around one of the cow’s back legs, tightened it at the pastern.

“Glad to see you’re wearing gloves,” he said, handing her the rope. Mac glanced at it, then at him. “Keep pressure on it. Don’t try to pull her leg out from under her. Just keep it taut. If she picks up the foot, pull until she tries to set it back down again, then let her.”

“I can do that.”

“Good. It keeps her from kicking the shit out of me.”

He settled himself on an inverted five-gallon bucket and began the slow process of milking. Slow for him anyway. The cow kicked when he first touched her, surprising Mac who was late pulling the rope.

“Sorry. I’ll be ready next time.”

“No problem.” But there wasn’t a next time. As soon as he started milking, the cow settled.

“I can’t believe this is the same crazed mother that was digging at the gate,” Mac said a few minutes later.

“Oh, that mother will be back once she’s out of the squeeze.”

“You’ll bottle feed?” Mac sounded dubious, for good reason. The calf looked half dead, barely able to raise its head.

“Not quite.” Trev finished milking a few minutes later and handed her the bucket. “Be careful with that. Colostrum is like gold.” He retrieved the tubing apparatus from the metal cupboard where they kept the birthing supplies. Mac’s eyes widened when she saw the tube connected to the bag, but she didn’t say a word as he crimped the hose and then told her how to pour the milk into the bag. Between the two of them they maneuvered the calf into a semi-sitting position, then Trev stepped back.

“Can you hold him like that?”

Mac nodded, her arms wrapped around the baby, and Trev retrieved the bag from where he’d hung in on a wall hook.

A few minutes later, life-giving fluid was flowing from the bag directly into the calf’s stomach. The little guy twitched, let out a protesting cry, which caused mom to rock the squeeze chute again. When the milk finished flowing, Trev pulled the tube in one quick motion, then sat back on his heels as the calf started to move.

Maclyn exhaled. “He’s coming around.”

“It’s amazing what that first milk can do. Once he gains strength, hopefully he’ll nurse on his own.”

“If he doesn’t …”

Trev met her gaze. “We do this again. We do it twice a day until he nurses, but usually we only have to do it once.”

They positioned the baby in the corner of the pen, then opened the chute. The mother charged in, throwing her head wildly before zeroing in on her baby. He called weakly, and she began to lick him.