Page 39 of Taming the Wild Cowboy

When they caught up with the first band of steers, they’d already started heading along the fence, instead going through the hole in the wires. Trev cut left, Mac moved right, and they brought the animals back to center, funneling them through the opening.

Maclyn pulled Danny to a stop and patted his neck. Both horses were blowing steam, giving them an otherworldly look. Trev dismounted and led Spot through the opening and Mac followed on horseback, dismounting once on the other side, and then pulling the remaining fencing supplies out of her saddlebags.

“Do you think we got them all?”

“Of course not.” He grinned at her. “We’re dealing with cattle.”

Maclyn nodded wisely. “Forgot myself there.”

After the wires had been reattached and tightened with a minimal amount of muttered curses, Trev caught Spot’s reins. “Let’s beat the rain.”

“If we must.” Maclyn swung up into the saddle and gathered the reins.

“You know,” he said before putting his foot in the stirrup, “I like working with you.”

“High praise.”

The look he gave made something shift inside of her. “It is, actually.” He mounted and started for the ranch with a long trot, not slowing until he reached the bridge.

Mac kept her focus on Danny’s footing and not on Trev, but it was hard to shove those last words out of her head.

She’d proven herself.

She had a job for now and when she left, she’d get a decent reference.

But, deep down, she knew that she wasn’t so much interested in a reference as how vigorously Trev could say, You’re welcome.

Chapter Eight

The cow was down in the far corner of the pasture, a new calf tottering around her. She turned her head to study them warily as they approached, her neck bent into an odd position.

“Wade and I tagged this one yesterday,” Trev said as he and Mac approached the pair. “Oh, look. It’s your friend,” Trev said when he was close enough to read her ear tag. It was the cow that had taken exception to Maclyn’s presence during her very first walk through the herd.

“You mean Killer Moo?”

“I believe so.” The cow didn’t move as he approached other than rolling her eye. Never a good sign. He circled her, checking for physical injuries, then pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed.

The wind whipped Mac’s hair around her face as he called the veterinary hospital who promised to send someone as soon as possible, which could be anywhere from hours to more hours, then pocketed his phone. “Nothing we can do but go back to work until the vet arrives.”

“Any idea why she’s down?”

“I hope it’s not tetanus. Might be an internal injury from calving.” Trev pushed his hat back. “I think we’ll get some small bales to prop against her side. We want her to continue lying on her chest rather than out flat.”

An hour later, a white truck with utility boxes pulled into the ranch and Trev, surprised at such speedy service, met it at the gate, waving the truck through, then pointing at the corner where the downed cow lay. Mac caught up with Trev and they wordlessly crossed the pasture to where the vet was opening the side panels of the truck. A guy in his mid-thirties with killer blond curls, he smiled as they approached.

“Chad Kelly.” He held a hand to first Maclyn, then Trev.

“Dr. Kelly,” Trev said. “Thanks for coming.”

“Chad.” The vet had an infectious smile, but when he turned toward the cow, he was all business. “How long has she been down?”

“We’re not sure. Maclyn noticed her this morning.”

Number 13F seemed none too happy to have a stranger haltering her and then conducting an exam, but after a mild struggle, she gave in.

“What do you think?” Trev asked when the vet returned to the truck.

“Judging by gut sounds and temperature and that weird way she’s holding her neck, I’d say milk fever.”