As if in answer to her question, a braying sound filled the air. Stevie whipped her head around to see a little spotted donkey making his way from the middle of the herd toward the fence.
“I think this four-wheeler scared them off for you,” she said as she drove on a little farther. “But you keep up the good work.”
Donkeys protected cattle from coyotes pretty much the same way alpacas protected sheep from predators. That thought caused Stevie to wonder why the Ryan family had kept the alpacas after Mia had gotten that wild hair and sold her sheep. She was wondering about that when she made the corner and started along the fence that marked the very back of the forty-acre pasture.
“I’ll have to ask Cody about that when I get back to the bunkhouse,” she said, and then silently gave herself a scolding for talking to herself.
Her focus shifted in a hurry when both front tires of her four-wheeler dropped off into a massive hole that was hidden by the snow. Everything happened as if in slow motion. One second, she was studying a cow that was moving away from the herd toward a big scrub oak tree with broken-down limbs. The next Stevie was flying head over heels through the air toward a grove of scrub oak trees just a few feet from the hole. She threw out her hands trying to grab onto something to break the fall, but all she got was arms full of cold air. One of the lower ice-covered branches of the tree broke her fall, but in doing so ripped at her face and arm. She landed on her back, and the gray sky seemed to fall right down on top of her, sucking all the air from her lungs. Then everything went black.
* * *
There was no path to the barn where the panels for temporary stalls were stored, and that barn was almost two miles away. The trip that should have taken five minutes even over rough pasture took half an hour. They had to drive through a foot of snow that was lying on top of a couple of inches of ice.
“I will be so glad to see bare ground again,” Jesse said when they finally reached the barn.
“You are preaching to the choir,” Cody told him. “I may never even listen to that song about dreaming of a white Christmas again.”
“I hear you, brother.” Jesse backed the truck up close to the barn. “Let’s get this stuff loaded. Mia can help us put up the pens tomorrow after we do chores. Stevie has come up with a good idea here. Who would have ever thought we’d have to do this in our part of Texas?”
“That’s the truth.” Cody got out of the truck, sunk down to the top of his boots in snow, and growled.
Cody slipped his phone from his hip pocket. “I’m going to check on Stevie and get her opinion on the cows.”
“Kind of nice having a vet on the property.” Jesse picked up a panel and carried it to the truck.
“Huh, her phone is going straight to voice mail,” Cody answered.
“Probably lost service if she’s at the back side of the forty,” Jesse said. Y’all ever get around to having that talk? Seems like she’s not as prickly as she was when I rescued you.”
“We decided that we might be friends,” Cody said and then frowned. “We’ve never had service problems anywhere in the pasture. I called Mia yesterday to ask her to look up a cow’s number for us and had no trouble getting through, remember?”
“Maybe Stevie’s having second thoughts about the idea of friendship and she’s flown the coop,” Jesse chuckled. “Hey, Mia told us at the breakfast table this morning that she’s going to invite Beau Martin to Sunday dinner when we dig out from under all this mess. Seems she’s been talking and texting him for a few weeks, and they even went on a couple of drives through the country together.”
Cody had heard that name, but he couldn’t put a face with it. Was it someone he had treated in the last six months? No, but Martin rang a bell. A visual of a little lady with gray in her hair came to his mind, and then he remembered Vernon Martin’s wife.
“Libby Martin of the Bois D’Arc Ranch?” he questioned.
“That would be his grandmother. Vernon is his grandpa. He works at the feed store part-time and helps Vernon run the ranch since Libby passed away. Seems like a good kid,” Jesse answered.
“I met him just before Libby died,” Cody said as he helped load up the panels. “His grandparents seem like good people.”
“And that boy likes ranching?” Cody asked.
“I guess he does, or he wouldn’t be down here helping Vernon and working two days a week at the feed store, plus taking online agribusiness courses,” Jesse answered.
“I bet Vernon is happy that he’s finally got a family member interested in ranching,” Cody said.
“I would be if I was in his boots.” Jesse said as they put one last panel on the truck. “I’m so glad that Mia loves this lifestyle and hope the twins grow up to love it as much as she does. That’s a load. I reckon we should get on back and get them unloaded. We’ll have just enough time before supper to come back for the gates. We could even leave them on the truck if it’s going to cause us to be late.”
Cody tried to call Stevie again, but it went to voice mail. He left a message and shoved the phone back in his pocket. “I wonder if she’s got a cow down and is pulling a calf. Maybe I should drive out there and see if she needs help.”
“Maybe you should let well enough alone,” Jesse suggested. “She’s been cooped up with you for days. She might need some time to herself. Addy gets like that every so often, like now, and believe me, when she does, I take a step back and give her some space. I’ll be glad when you two can get back to seeing patients again. She enjoys that.”
“Me too,” Cody said.
When they had reached the barn and unloaded the panels, Cody tried again to reach Stevie, but got nothing. “She might want time alone, but I’m driving out that way to see about her. If she wants time alone, she’s just honest and blunt enough to tell me. Stevie speaks her mind—loud and clear. I’ll go get the gates tomorrow morning while you and Mia build the stalls.”
Jesse gave a quick nod and tossed the pickup keys across to him. “I’m headed to the house then. Call me if you need another set of hands.”
Cody had a gut feeling that something was wrong—and Cody’s gut had never lied to him. He drove the old truck down the grooves the four-wheeler had cut in the snow. Deep boot prints told him that Stevie had gotten off the vehicle to open the gate into the pasture. She had driven through, then more prints said that she had gone back to close it again. Cody did the same thing, and then he was driving on slick grass instead of in deep snow. Mia had done a good job of plowing the pasture so that none of the cattle had to wade in it halfway to their bellies.
He drove slowly, keeping an eye on the tire prints ahead of him. When he turned the corner at the back edge of the field, he noticed the donkey with his head up and ears back, braying at a couple of coyotes out there beyond the fence line. There was a whole pack of them, most likely lying in wait for a cow to drop a calf, and then they would swoop in for the kill.
“Good boy,” Cody said, “keep them away from the herd, and especially any baby calves.”
He’d barely gotten the words out of his mouth when he noticed the four-wheeler nose down in a hole. He hit the gas pedal a little too hard and fishtailed all over the pasture for a few seconds before he got control. When he came to a stop, the pickup’s bumper was just inches from the rear end of the four-wheeler. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, slung open the truck door, and called Stevie. Surely she was on her way back to the ranch house or was already there.