Breathless (9 page)

Did calves have teeth? Did they carry rabies?

Emma’s mind whirled, panic rising sharply. A sudden movement caught her eye, and the calf bounced right at her. She squealed and flew backward, the pitch making her ears ring. The calf seemed to twist in midjump and bounce around toward the back of the small room.

A soft bawling stopped her hand on the latch of the door. Heaving in a calming breath, Emma dared to look around.

The calf’s legs wobbled again. It dropped to its knees, falling to the floor beneath the light.

“No! Oh hell, Gabe! Help her, there’s something wrong.” Emma flew to kneel before the little animal, all fear forgotten with the thought it was injured. What if it was her fault?

Unthinking, she reached out a trembling hand toward it. A small, velvet-soft nose touched her hand, seeking warmth.

Gabe watched with careful eyes, not realizing he was holding his breath until he let it go. Stomping hard on the minute tendril of awareness threatening to snake through his veins at the sight, he stared at the gorgeous woman on her knees in the hay, her hand shaking but still reaching out to what she believed was a hurt animal.

Concern overrode her fear—to the extent that she seemed to have forgotten about it.

An idea wormed its way into his head, almost making him smile. He’d cure her of her fear if it was the last thing he did.

“It’s a shame. I don’t want to do it, but I don’t really have a choice.” Gabe glanced at his sister, who stared back at him in confusion. He jerked his chin toward the two sitting in the quarantine room, willing her to get with it. Darby blinked. A small conspiratorial smile tilted her lips for a moment, then disappeared.

“Yeah. Such a pity. It’s a nice-looking calf too.”

Emma looked around, a frown marring her features. “What’s a pity? What don’t you want to do?”

Gabe gestured at the calf, willing it to forgive his next words. He made his expression turn sad. “The calf. Jez has rejected it, so I have no choice.”

Emma’s eyes darkened further, her mouth flattening to a thin line. “What aren’t you saying?” She looked to Darby for clarity. “What is he talking about?”

Darby let her lip drop and wobble a little.
Damn, she was good.
He’d have to buy her a drink for that performance.

“Gabe means that since Jez refuses, there’s no one to look after the calf. He’s going to have to put it down.”

Emma’s eyes flew wide open, disbelief draining her face to a stark white.

“No,” she whispered. “You-you can’t. That-that’s just
wrong
!” She glanced down at the tiny calf lying in front of her, then back to them, tears obvious in her wide eyes. “Can’t you just look after it yourself? I mean—”

“No, Emma. I can’t. I don’t have the time needed. They have to be fed every few hours. This is a working ranch, as well as my veterinary business. I’m running behind as it is.”

A lone tear found its way out of her eye, rolling in slow motion down her cheek to drop off the edge of her jaw. Guilt gnawed at his gut. He shouldn’t be doing this to her, but something told him it was the right thing.

“Please don’t kill her.”

Her soft words were barely audible, spearing him right to the heart. Gabe shoved hard at the unwanted emotions she dredged up. She needed this. How he knew it was beyond him, but he’d committed himself to this course of action, so he had to follow through.

“The only way I can think of is if someone takes it and looks after it.” He glanced at his sister. “Darby works, and I’m too busy.” He lifted his hands in a show of defeat. “There’s no one left.”

Emma’s attention went back to the calf, its nose nuzzling her thigh. “I could do it.”

Those four gently spoken words sent a warmth flooding through him he’d never experienced before. He couldn’t help but smile. He squashed it immediately as Emma’s head turned around, her stormy blue eyes glaring at him.

“I don’t have to go to work, so I’d be home at the times she needs. And I have a big yard, with a fence. I’m home all the time doing my renovations. If you just tell me what I need to do, I
could
do it.”

Her gaze darted between them, daring them to doubt her, wanting them to believe her.

Gabe made a show of looking at his sister, as if wanting her input.

“Tell him, Darby! Tell him I can do it.”

Darby looked undecided for a moment, reinforcing his admiration of her acting ability. He’d be buying her a case of her favorite wine, not just one drink.

She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think she could. With some help of course. We’ll need to keep an eye on them for a few days until things settle down, and we’d need to organize a shed or something for the little fellow for nighttime.” She turned to Gabe, her smile leaking out the edges, lending credence to her words. “I think it might be a good idea.”

Emma’s shoulders visibly relaxed, her hand going to the top of the calf’s head, her long, slim fingers stroking it.

Darby grinned at him from her position leaning on the half door beside him. She tilted her mouth to his ear. “You owe me, brother mine.”

Gabe threw an arm over her shoulder and squeezed. “Yeah, I know.” He raised his voice so Emma could hear.

“By the way, Emma, it’s a boy.”

Chapter Eleven

Emma dropped her chin into her cupped hands on the small outdoor table and stared at the newest member of her family.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked the little bull, his mouth all creamy from the bottle she’d just given him. What had possessed her to say that she could look after him? She didn’t want the responsibility of another life, especially one so young. It wasn’t part of her plan.

Ralph just stared at her with his huge ebony eyes, oblivious to how close to dog food he’d come.

Ralph.
Gabe had almost fallen over laughing at the name she’d bestowed with such seriousness on the bull calf. Every time he’d looked at Ralph, it had started him off again.

“It’s a very dignified name!” she’d argued. “My great-grandfather was named Ralph.”

And that had been it. She couldn’t get sense out of the man after that. He’d just gone about his business, building a small shed for Ralph with Ed’s help, shaking his head and chuckling. The calf made a huge nuisance of himself, getting in the way and sniffing everything in sight, jumping and bouncing around when they were trying to nail things together.

Emma grinned, remembering Ralph’s tendency to get under Gabe’s feet, tripping him and sticking his wet nose into his face, only to lick him from chin to forehead.

Gabe’s laughter had echoed around the backyard, sending Emma’s insides into a spin. Seeing him lying there on his back with calf slobber all over him was the funniest thing she’d ever seen. If only she’d had her camera.

Having Gabe around her home had felt so easy. It’d felt like he was meant to be there. She was so glad their friendship was getting stronger. She and Darby were getting along fantastically—she was a true friend—but it was nice to know Gabe didn’t mind her company either. Contentment had pooled deep in her belly and spread, flooding her as she’d watched him putter around the backyard with his tools.

She didn’t want to analyze to closely the source of the feeling. Just the thought of being accepted was enough.

So she was now the proud owner of a baby bull. Or rather, the adopted mother. Gabe had agreed to take Ralph back when he grew too big for her yard. A giggle slipped out of her mouth at the thought of a full-grown stud bull in her backyard. At least he’d be a conversation point.

Emma managed to get Ralph into his little shed without too much trouble. She shut the bottom half of the split door and latched it.

“You, my friend, need to rest.”

She stood a moment, stared down at him and shook her head. To think, only yesterday she had been scared witless of these animals. She still had no intention of going near the big ones, but calves she could handle. It was good to know she wasn’t a total write-off.

Emma took the three low steps to her veranda quickly, going over the list of things she had to do for the day. Mr. Fletcher would be open this morning until lunchtime, which was a godsend considering it was Sunday. It would save her the big trip to Pueblo for some supplies. She had a bathroom to paint and some lacquer to buy for the kitchen cupboards. Plus, she wanted to update the bathroom fixtures with some nice ones she’d noticed the last time she’d been in the hardware store.

The main street was surprisingly busy as she drove toward the hardware store. She’d thought being a Sunday morning, it would be much quieter, but it seemed most of the town was out. Not unlike a Sunday back in Matheson.

At the thought of where she’d grown up, Emma’s eyes flicked to the locket dangling from the key in the ignition of her truck, which led inevitably to the reason she’d left. She shoved hard at the shaft of pain, forcing it back where it belonged. Thinking about her cheating husband kicked all her hard-won peace in the belly. And Sasha, her precious Sasha…

Emma shook her head and closed a door on the hurt. She didn’t want to deal with that here, down the main street of her new hometown. Time enough for that when she was by herself. It was bad enough thinking about Alex and how it had felt to have been told—by his sister, no less—that he found her lacking, let alone think about all she’d lost on a whim.

What surprised her even more than the amount of people out and about today as she looked around as she drove was the amount of people that she didn’t recognize or remember meeting who waved to her. She blinked, taken aback. The locals actually smiled and waved at her as she drove by. It warmed her, knowing that, just maybe, she could be happy here. That small measure of acceptance from the locals touched her heart in a way that nothing else had for years. This was a place she could put the past behind her and build a new future.

Darby and the whole Jameson family had been wonderful. So friendly and welcoming, not asking too many personal questions, content to let her divulge what she wanted to. She had a feeling she had a friend in Darby like she’d always wanted.

Someone to laugh with, to be silly with, and someone to confide in. Not yet, but perhaps one day, once she’d known her longer. Much longer.

Emma glanced at the locket again, swinging from her key chain with the motion of the pickup.

Alex. Sasha.

The uncensored thought lent a sad taint to her happy thoughts, regret and loss coalescing into a tight little pinpoint of pain. Emma squashed the intrusive feelings and forced them back a second time. There was no point in dwelling on things that couldn’t be changed.

She was here, now, making a new life for herself, with new friends. Nothing would replace what Alex and Sasha had meant to her, and she didn’t want anything, or anyone, to. The move to Jefferson’s Crossing had been about letting go of the past. Finding out who she was again. Freeing herself from things that could never be changed.

She’d hated the compassionate glances from people she knew, the glimpses of pity on their faces and the outright hostility from those she’d considered family.

Alex’s family.
His sister in particular.

Blame was an insidious thing, gnawing away inside where it couldn’t be seen or dealt with, until one day it exploded with a ferocity that left damage and destruction in its wake.

Forgiveness was a hard thing to accomplish. Emma didn’t know if she would ever get there herself, but she was trying.

Swinging the pickup into an empty spot in front of the hardware store, Emma couldn’t help the grin that spread over her mouth at the thought of what Alex would think of Ralph.

Shock and total disgust. He would never believe it.

The subtle scent of paint and lumber, mixed with the faint undertone of fertilizer, hit Emma as she entered the large store. If you could think of it, chances were you would find it there.

A familiar figure caught her attention as she moved toward the middle section where the paint was stored.

“Good morning, Pete.”

The old man looked up from the paint chip in his hand, a huge smile widening his mouth. “Mornin’ yourself, ma’am.” At the frown she sent his way, he chuckled and amended, “I mean, Emma. What brings you down here this fine day?”

Emma bit back the grin trying to force its way out of her mouth. “I’m in desperate need of some paint, plus some pretty fittings for my bathroom. The ones there are a bit on the scary side.”

Pete’s chuckle blew out to a full belly laugh. “I never heard of fittings bein’ called pretty before. In my day they were functional, or not. You young girlies have all these strange ideas floating around those pretty heads of yours.”

A voice from behind her interrupted her response. “Hi there, Emma. How are you this morning?”

Emma threw Pete a small grin. He winked at her and pretended intense interest in the color chips on the wall in front of them.

Emma turned. “I’m fine, thanks, Ryan. What about yourself?”

Ryan Thomas smiled and threw her a saucy look. “I’m doin’ fine, but I know I’d be even better if you agreed to come swimming with us this afternoon. We’re all heading out to the lake, instead of to the usual barbeque at the Jamesons’. You up for it?”