Twelve
“What is that?” A reddish-brown lump in the golden brush stirred and then stilled just as quickly. The small, round, fur-covered animal was breathing. She could see its back lifting and dropping.
“A calf slipped through the fence. He’s hiding,” Vic answered.
A mournful wail came from the calf’s mother, a brown-and-white cow, mooing her warning to Vic—or maybe encouragement to her little one. The calf didn’t move a muscle.
“Is he hurt?” she asked as Titan’s head came up, the muscles on his flanks tightening beneath her legs.
Vic leaned forward and whispered one word. “Coyote.”
Her eyes followed his pointing finger to the thin dog lurking beyond the brush. If it cared that they were there, it didn’t show. Its predatory gaze was locked on the calf.
“Where there’s one, there’s more,” Vic murmured.
“That’s not very reassuring.”
“No. It’s not.”
He dismounted, skirted the calf’s hiding place and began whistling and clapping at the coyote and its unseen pack. Only then she did see them—and hear them—as they yipped and ran off into the trees beyond the field.
The mother cow mooed her concern. Vic reassured her with, “I’ll get your baby. Don’t worry.”
From his belt, he unclipped a rope and fashioned a lasso. His second toss landed around the calf’s neck. Only then did the calf burst to life, struggling to escape while its mother wailed in protest. Aubrey’s heart lurched. She had a soft spot for animals, and clearly neither of them understood that Vic was trying to help.
Thankfully, he returned the calf to the safety of the other side of the fence mere moments later. Once the baby was reunited with its mother, the larger cow licked and doted.
Aubrey smiled at the sweet interaction. “She’s a good mama.”
“She is.” He watched the scene for a moment before he looked up at her, eyes squinting against the sun in spite of the Stetson on his head. “You were the one who taught me that, you know. You were always pointing out the beauty in these beasts. I never noticed before I met you.”
He climbed back into Titan’s saddle and wrapped his arms around her waist. Together they watched as the lost duo rejoined the herd on the hill.
Once they were out of sight, she rested her hand on his and said, “You’ll make a good daddy.”
The rigid set of his arms around her communicated that the compliment might have fallen short. Had the topic of children been hallowed ground? Something they’d spoken of in the past or, possibly, argued about? She had a funny feeling they had alternate viewpoints on the topic.
“I always thought so.”
She didn’t miss the note of wonder in his voice. “And I didn’t?”
He guided Titan back to the trail. “It was less about me, more about you.”
She was a teacher. She loved children. It would make sense if she’d been eager to have a family of her own. Had she postponed one love for the other? The more she learned about her past, the less she wanted to remember.
They rode silently for a few minutes before she spoke again. “Thanks for bringing me out. If you’re too busy to give me a ride home, I can call a car.”
He surprised her by saying, “Or you can stay with me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” he answered with a soft chuckle. “Call your parents and let them know I’ll bring you by in the morning. In the meantime, I have a shower with our names on it.”
She warmed at the idea that she hadn’t spoiled the mood tonight by reminding him how difficult she’d been about their future. “A shower sounds lovely.”
“Wait’ll you see what I do to you in that shower,” he said against her ear. “I’m going to make sure you never forget how good you had it with me.”
“What do you mean, had?” She twisted her neck to look up at him. “Are you going somewhere?”