Straddling the Fence (3 page)

She slicked up her gloves before pouring her hand full and
smearing it on the cow’s vulva. “Next, you’re going to
gently
insert
your hand into her vagina. Cow parts are the same as girl parts, boys.” Sage
snickered. “They’re just bigger and aligned a little differently, but it’s
basically the same principal as when your mother gave birth to you. The cervix
has to dilate enough to allow the calf to enter the birth canal. If she’s not
dilating naturally after several hours, and especially after she’s expelled the
water sac, you can help her along manually by carefully manipulating the cervix
back.”

Bellamy paused for a moment while she assessed that part of
the cow. “She’s fully dilated. Now I’m going to feel for the calf, see if it’s
in the proper birth position, which is forelegs and head first. The feet should
present themselves just before the head. Sometimes they get one leg forward and
one back, or both legs back. In those instances, you want to push the calf’s
head back and straighten the forelegs if you can. Any other presentation and
you need to call the vet until you get some experience with it.”

She bit her lip as she felt for the calf. “The baby’s in the
right position, I think it’s just the size that’s giving her trouble.” The cow
mooed, making Bellamy chuckle. “We’re telling you, huh, Momma?”

“Now it’s your turn. Whoever wants a go, lube up.”

Eli dropped to his knees beside her and coated his gloved
hand.

“Remember—be gentle.”

Bracing one hand on the cow’s tailbone, he eased the other
inside. It wasn’t as weird or gross as he imagined, just different. The
process, her knowledge and calm demeanor, it all fascinated him and made him
more eager to learn as much as he could.

“You’ll feel a thicker area of tissue lining the walls
several inches in.”

“I feel it.”

“That’s the cervix. It gets thinner as she dilates. There
should be very little resistance against your closed fist. Now push your hand a
little farther until you feel the hooves.”

Eli smiled when his fingers touched the hard, sharp ends of
the small hooves. “Got them.”

“Farther back, you should feel its nose. Don’t poke at it
too much.” When he nodded, she said, “Ease your hand out.”

Another strong contraction hit the cow, making her grunt and
stir on the ground. Bellamy grabbed a set of chains. “I think we need to go
ahead and attach these and start pulling since the feet haven’t appeared yet.
I’ll show you the proper way to loop them around the legs once we get the calf
out. If you don’t have a set of pull chains, you can use rope, but make sure
it’s not twine or anything thin that can cut into the skin of the calf.”

Something prompted Bellamy to speed up, though they hadn’t
been dawdling at all. Eli scooted back so she had plenty of room to work. When
she had the chains secured, she waited until they’d stripped off the slick
gloves, then handed one chain to Eli and Fritz took the other.

“This part is very important too.
Never
snatch the
chains and
never
use a tractor or a truck for pulling. You apply steady
pressure, working
with
the cow’s contractions. When she pushes, you
pull, first one leg, then the other, like you’re walking the calf out. If
there’s just one of you, it’s okay if you’re not able to do it that way, but
always keep the chains taut. Don’t let the infant slip back inside. You’re
going to pull in alignment with the cow’s spine or slightly upward until the
head and shoulders are exposed. Once that happens, you’ll need to stop and turn
the calf ninety degrees in either direction so the hips fit easily through the
birth canal. It also helps to start pulling down toward the cow’s hocks at that
point. You can use your hands to aid the process along, but again, lube up and
be gentle. Ready?”

Sitting on their asses in the dirt, legs splayed, chains in
hand, Eli and Fritz nodded.

“Fritz, you’re left, and Eli is right. Let’s go left first.”

When the next contraction hit, they began to work, following
her instructions as they went. Once the small hooves slid out, she quickly
explained how she’d attached the chains and the proper position for them on the
calf’s forelegs. Eli was moved by how patient she was being in doling out
details. After all, a vet charged for their services, and telling someone else
how to do her job could cut her out of some business. She didn’t seem to mind
though, and the teaching part came naturally to her.

The entire process felt like it took hours, but in reality,
it only lasted about thirty minutes, start to finish. Sweat trickled down Eli’s
spine, soaking the cotton of his shirt. He could see the fine sheen of
perspiration on Bellamy’s skin too, the determination etched into her pretty
features. She’d bitten her bottom lip until it was swollen and red.

One last contraction-tug combo and the calf slipped free of
its mother, landing on the scattered hay in a slimy, white-and-russet lump.
Bellamy removed the chains and poked a gloved finger inside each nostril to
clear the amniotic fluid from its nose. The calf didn’t move.

Eli swallowed hard and glanced up at Bellamy’s face. Her
forehead was creased. She lifted a shoulder to wipe a trickle of sweat from her
cheek, chest rising and falling with her deep breaths.

Silence hovered between them for a few heartbeats before
Sage blurted, “Is it dead?”

Panic swelled in Bellamy’s chest. Her mouth went dry as
cotton.

Please don’t let it be dead. Not Eli’s first.

She grabbed a piece of hay and tickled the calf’s pale nose.
It wobbled its head back and forth then its long gray tongue slowly retracted
inside its mouth. A collective sigh of relief gusted from all four of them at
the first signs of life from the infant.

Bellamy inspected the cow’s birth canal for any tears or
excess bleeding. Satisfied the young mother was okay, she stood, stripped off
her gloves and started gathering up her supplies. Eli took the chains from her
hands, rinsing them off in the clean water before dropping them inside the
plastic bucket she’d brought along. Tomorrow she’d give them a thorough
scrubbing and disinfecting before stowing them away for the next use.

The cow shifted and staggered to her feet. Bellamy breathed
a relieved sigh over that too, because occasionally paralysis did occur. Momma
turned and nosed her baby a few times, then began to lick it clean, the natural
maternal stimulation rousing the calf from its birth stupor.

“Good girl,” Bellamy murmured. “She should expel the
afterbirth within a few hours. If she hasn’t by this time tomorrow, call me and
I’ll come check her over again. I’d give her some feed and water, let them
spend the night in here, then turn them loose in the morning.”

They stepped out of the corral to give cow and calf the
bonding time they needed without the stress of humans hovering. Bellamy reached
for her bucket of supplies, but Eli was already carrying it to her truck. She
didn’t follow. Instead, she used the guise of watching the newborn to avoid an
awkward, inevitable conversation where he’d try to save face by making up some
lame excuse as to why he’d bolted so her feelings wouldn’t be hurt. Her
feelings were just fine.

“Do we have a boy or a girl?” Fritz asked from beside her.

Bellamy glanced at Eli’s brother, noting his profile matched
Eli’s almost perfectly. Appearance-wise, they were a lot alike. Eli’s hair was
longer, but the same rich shade of dark chocolate, and he was taller too, by a
few inches. Sage’s hair was several shades lighter and he was stockier than his
brothers, but in no way could he be considered overweight. All three of them
were as handsome as the day is long. She wondered if they shared Eli’s
magnetism, as well as his memorable skillset in bed.

“Girl,” Bellamy said.

Awareness flared when Eli slid in beside her to prop his
arms across the top of the corral fence. He pushed the lower half of his face
into the crook of his elbow and stared at her, gray eyes sharp and intent. Heat
and the smell of the sweat on his skin drifted over her, making rebellious
desire tighten her stomach. Damp strands of hair clung to the side of his neck.
She wanted to push it out of the way, drag her tongue up that hot, tan slope.
Taste the salt on his skin. Sink her teeth into his jaw and hear him make a
hungry sound deep in his chest—the same one she’d had stuck in her head for
three damn weeks.

When Sage spoke, she tore her gaze away.

“It’s our firstborn. We should name her.”

The adorable calf was making several wobbly attempts to rise
to its feet. Momma had her almost clean now, its small white face damp and
bright as freshly fallen snow. Herefords were a beautiful breed of cattle, with
their creamy faces, rich russet coats and thick, muscled bodies. Angus was the
most popular choice for beef production in the states, but Hereford ran a close
second. They also tended to be one of the more docile breeds.

“It’s almost Halloween,” Fritz said. “We could call her
Pumpkin.”

“Or Sugar,” Sage said.

“Maybe we should name her after the doc,” Fritz said,
cutting her a sly smile.

Bellamy shook her head. “I vote for Pumpkin.”

“Clover,” Eli said. The decisive tone he used brooked no
rebuttals from his brothers, whereas it made Bellamy’s heart pound against her
breastbone like she’d run a marathon. Heat bloomed in her cheeks at the flash
of carnal memories from that night.

Time to go.

She said her goodbyes and turned to leave. Except Eli
followed her to the truck, bracing his hand on the doorframe so she couldn’t
open the door. Bellamy leaned back against the cab and tried a preemptive
approach. “Eli, I’m too tired to have this conversation right now.”

“What conversation would that be? The one where you explain
why you disappeared that morning?”

Her spine stiffened defensively. “
Me
? When I woke up,
you
were gone.”

“I left a note on the dresser telling you I went for our
breakfast and I’d be back in thirty minutes.”

“I didn’t see a note.”
Did you look for one?

“Well, it was there, scratched out in pencil on a cheap
motel notepad.”

She rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. Over
Eli’s shoulder, his brothers were easing toward their respective trucks. They’d
have questions for him tomorrow.
“So you slept with the doc, eh? How was
she?”
Her stomach churned, thinking about those three used condoms. Bellamy
didn’t want to be another notch on Eli’s bedpost, but it was too late. The wood
had a fresh gouge.

“If you say you left a note, then I believe you. I’m sorry I
didn’t see it, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.”

Frowning, he cocked his head. “Why wouldn’t it have
mattered, Bellamy?”

“Because it was a one-time thing. I had no expectations
going into it. I never thought we’d see each other again after that night.”

His face went void of expression. He drew a deep breath,
dropped his hands to his lean hips, then huffed out a sharp, bitter laugh. “So
this is what it feels like.”

Bellamy swallowed. She didn’t have a bedpost, but she got
the impression Eli thought
she
was the one doing the carving. Pressure
filled her chest. Her hands suddenly ached with the need to touch him. To
soothe away the sting of cold words flung at him like a handful of rocks.

This wasn’t her. She didn’t do mean or negligent. But once
the hurt was out there, there was no way to take it back.

She shoved her hands in her back pockets to be safe. “I
didn’t mean that to sound so callous.”

“No, it’s fine. I get it. I just thought we’d…” He shrugged
those broad shoulders, leaving them both to mentally fill in the blank.

Bellamy couldn’t fill it in though, because she hadn’t
allowed herself to think of what-ifs since that morning. She’d thought it
finished, that she’d never lay eyes on him again. Why spend time fantasizing
when it would lead nowhere, except to more discomfort?

Eli’s pride was bruised, that’s all. He’d recover soon
enough and move on to the next warm, eager body. And besides, she didn’t plan
on staying in Serenity long term, so what was the point?

“Eli—”

“Forget it.” He spun away from her and walked toward the
only truck left that wasn’t hers, saying, “I’ll get your payment to you as soon
as I can.”

Bellamy drove out the open gate, glancing in her rearview
mirror to see him closing it behind them. A hard, uncomfortable knot sat lodged
in the center of her chest. Didn’t matter that her exhaustion was bone deep;
she was facing a restless night.

The pain jackhammering behind Eli’s forehead made his eyes
water and sting.

Late last night he’d swallowed enough whiskey for it to act
as a sedative, but it wore off before dawn, when his thoughts eventually drove
him from bed. Despite scrubbing his teeth ’til his gums bled, he couldn’t get
rid of the sour taste that remained after his conversation with Bellamy.

He chased four aspirin with half a bottle of water then
climbed in his truck to go check on the new mother and daughter. The lingering
fog muted the light as the rising sun bled through the trees. His eyeballs were
grateful.

It was a brief trip from his house to the barn, a handy perk
of living on family land. All total, the Carter’s owned over twelve-hundred
acres around Serenity, most of it contiguous with the exception of Fritz’s
place. But even that piece was close—their deceased paternal grandparents’ old
homestead. Now that Fritz was engaged to Kai, it wouldn’t be long before they
made plans to build something new to call their own.

Just last year, Eli had finished construction on his log
cabin, tucked back in a mature stand of pines and hardwoods a mile down the
road from his parents’ house. It wasn’t big or fancy, but it was his free and
clear, since he’d taken his time and paid cash as he went along with the
construction, and there was plenty of room to add on in the future if the need
arose.

Sage, meanwhile, had bought a vintage Airstream trailer to
live in and renovate while he decided where and when
he
was going to
build. It was currently parked in a patch of woods not far from Eli’s place.

At the sound of his truck door slamming shut at the barn,
cattle lowed from the pasture, anticipating breakfast.

Given what had happened last night with the calf, the
decision to start small had been the right one. They had set aside eighty acres
of land and purchased thirty cows and one bull. With just Eli, Sage and Fritz
handling the budding operation, on top of farming obligations they couldn’t
neglect, anything more would’ve been too much, too soon. Especially when the
worry of failure always seemed to hang heavy in his mind. If all went well for
the next year, they would look into gradually increasing the herd and
pastureland, but farming was always going to take precedence over raising beef.

Cow and baby looked healthy and mobile. The calf was
bright-eyed and curious, and just about the cutest thing Eli had ever seen.
Momma had eaten and drank some, expelled the afterbirth, and her teats showed
signs her infant had nursed. This was a good thing too, because it needed the
colostrum.

He opened the gate to the corral so they could wander out
when they were ready to join the herd, then climbed on the tractor to haul a
fresh roll of hay out into the field. The cows still had grass to graze on, but
it was dwindling as the days turned cooler and rain grew scarcer. While he
rode, he let his thoughts wander back to his clipped conversation with Bellamy.

Eli had always been careful he didn’t hurt women, and he
never led them on. He made sure they knew going in it was purely physical, that
he liked his freedom and disliked commitment. No personal attachments to make
things messy or complicated. No deep emotions, just sensation. Bodies acting
independently of their souls. Up until now, that attitude suited his needs, and
his conscience and his heart never had to get involved.

Bellamy had unintentionally opened his eyes last night, held
a mirror up to his face, and he didn’t like what he saw. He was a user—and now
he knew what it felt like to be used. He couldn’t lay any blame at her feet,
though.
He’d
been the one who’d pursued
her
across that parking
lot, not the other way around. She only reacted to his cues, saw an opening and
took it. Followed his lead because he was a pro at taking.

He dropped the roll of hay inside a metal hay ring and
backed the tractor out of the way to watch the cows wander over to eat.

When he tried to remember the last girl he’d been with
before Bellamy, he couldn’t recall any specific details, not even hair color or
the place. It hadn’t been that long ago, maybe a month before the rodeo. Faces
and names swirled together, muddied as a riverbed.

He couldn’t forget Bellamy Haile. Didn’t want to, and he
didn’t know what to make of that.

Pinpointing what it was that made that night in the motel
different from other sexual experiences was damn near impossible. It started
out the same as most when he’d first spotted her behind the chutes—want, seek,
conquer. Thinking with his dick only. See just how fast he could get her out of
her clothes and beneath him, hot and ready to be devoured.

But then something turned his usual method of operation on
its shallow, self-serving head. She made him laugh, kept him on his toes with
their playful banter, worked her way inside some closed-off part of him with
the vulnerability she tried to mask.

Want turned to need. Need turned into a desire impossible to
satisfy. He couldn’t stop touching her, kissing her, tasting her. Urgency
became an uninvited part of the night, a sense that he should consume as much
of her as he could in a few short hours. A subconscious warning perhaps.
You
won’t see her again. Savor this.

Her voice and scent stayed with him for days, her soft pleas
and cries echoing inside his head. The remembered clasp of her body stiffening
his cock in the shower, the middle of the night or right fucking then,
surrounded by a field full of animals and a cool, lifting fog.

Now that he knew who she was, where she was, he wanted
more—but would she? Could he perhaps convince her to give this undeniable
chemistry they had a second chance?

Fritz was waiting when he parked the tractor back inside the
barn. He managed to give Eli time to climb down before starting with the
questions.

“When did you and the doc hook up?”

Eli winced at the words
hook up
, even though they
fit, and sat down on a stack of leftover lumber. “At the rodeo in Perry.”

“Just somethin’ random?” Fritz asked, propping his shoulder
against one of the barn’s support posts.

“Yeah,” Eli said. He grabbed a piece of hay and wrapped it
around his finger, unwound it, wrapped it, over and over again. “My typical MO,
ya know? Turn on the charm, a little alcohol primer, move in for the kill.”

“But…?”

Fritz had a way of using very few words to get a lot of
information. For some strange reason it made it easier to talk to him. Eli
loved his brother Sage, but he and Fritz were closer, got along better, now
that they were older. He rubbed the inch-long lateral scar on the ball of his
chin with his thumb, remembering back three weeks.

“How’d you get the scar?” she asked, her fingertip
tracing the pale line.

“The one and only time I got into a fist fight with my
brother Fritz.”

“Why was it the only time?”

“He won.”

“
But
I don’t fucking know what happened.” Eli smiled
crookedly. “She gave me this odd fake name when we first met—”

“Clover, I’m guessing?”

He nodded, chuckling at the memory. “And it just got better
from there. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was looking to disappear
inside a bottle of tequila and I wanted to know why. I never found out because
she wasn’t in the mood to talk much. The sex was damn good. Nothing kinky or
anything, just…intense. For the first time ever, I didn’t want to grab my shit
and get out. Anyway, the next morning I went to get breakfast and when I came
back, she was gone. Says she didn’t see the note I left and it wouldn’t have
mattered anyway. It was a one-time thing for her.”

“She thought she’d never see you again.”

“Guess so.”

“And now you want more.” Somehow Fritz’s statement came out
lacking an undertone of surprise, even though Eli knew his brother had to be
struck dumb by the idea of Eli wanting anything other than sex from a woman.
Fritz would never judge or lecture him about his sexual habits. Didn’t matter
because Eli was currently doing enough of it for the both of them.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

Fritz grinned. “It’s not a death sentence, brother.”

Eli tossed the strand of hay aside. He’d never believed in
that chemistry bullshit people spewed until he saw how happy and right Kai and
Fritz were together. And sure, his parents had been married for almost forty
years, but times were different when they were young. Farm life was harder and
divorces were seldom seen as a way out. Couples stuck with it through rough
patches and didn’t give up so easily. It wasn’t like today, where vows were as
insubstantial as the paper they were printed on.

That night he spent in Bellamy’s bed, he’d felt something
outside of good old-fashioned lust. Damned if he knew what it was, but it had
been there, striking matches in his gut. Hoarding every single detail inside
his brain.

“Kai told me where Bellamy’s living,” Fritz said.

Eli’s head jerked up. “How would Kai know that?”

“Bellamy’s been in the store a few times. Kai really likes
her and I suppose they’ve talked, gotten to know each other a little. When I
got home last night, Kai asked if Bellamy was the one who helped deliver the
calf. Said she’s living in the old McCoy place on Claxton Dairy Road.”

No wonder she’d gotten to them quickly. Claxton Dairy Road
was only about three miles from where they sat. The mental image of the McCoy
homestead made him frown. “That place always looks so…abandoned when I drive
by.”

His brother’s gaze was steady and shrewd. “Don’t we have a vet
bill that needs payin’?”

* * * * *

Eli eased his truck off the asphalt and stopped to make sure
he was in the right place.

The galvanized metal mailbox perched at the side of the road
was rusty and tilting precariously to the left, but he thought he could make
out the word
McCoy
written down the side in faded black paint. The
gate—more decaying metal—had no choice but to stand open, barely held upright
by a lone hinge pin that hadn’t given up the fight just yet.

A lane of deep, powdered-clay ruts made a straight shot
through the center of an eighty-acre field devoid of trees, but ripe with
weeds, briars and wild blackberry bushes. The house itself stood lonesome at
the back edge of the property, bordered by woodlands bursting with fall colors,
which only seemed to emphasize the starkness of the overall picture.

As he drew nearer, Eli took in the aged condition of the old
farmhouse. It was a large two-story structure with a covered porch that circled
the entire lower level. More patches of rust and oxidization dotted its mottled
tin roof. The white paint once coating the exterior walls was more of a grayish
hue now—what hadn’t flaked off altogether with time. Mature live oaks, maples
and magnolia trees surrounded the sides and back.

Looking at it made his chest ache for a reason he couldn’t
name.

Why are you here, Bellamy?

He parked his truck behind the silver work vehicle she’d
driven last night. A small car with fading blue paint sat next to it, a UGA
sticker on the back bumper.

When he stepped out, everything smelled familiar—dirt,
foliage, a faint tinge of manure in the air from the dairy down the road a
ways—but it felt foreign too, like he’d stepped back in time to a place where
tractors had to be started by a hand crank.

He headed for the front door.

Weathered wood popped and creaked beneath his booted feet as
he stepped up onto the warped porch. The smell of cooking food wafted through
the sagging screens in the row of open windows across the front of the house.
Country music followed it out. Gauzy white curtains lifted and lowered with the
light morning breeze.

Eli rapped his knuckles on the frame of the battered screen
door and waited.

Nothing.

So he did it again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

He listened closely, trying to locate the origin of the
music in relation to where he stood. When he figured out it was coming from a
back corner of the house, he followed the porch around, his boots echoing on
the wood, matching the tempo of his heart.

Several boards were broken or missing, the dirt ground below
visible through the gaps. Spider webs clung to the underside of the eaves in
frothy gray clusters. Leaves that fall had bitten from the tree limbs were
nestling themselves in corners to finish dying.

The backyard held a listing shed he’d seen a thousand times
all over farm country. Same pitched, rusted tin roof, same dark, decaying wood,
same square doors welded shut by time and Mother Nature. Usually they housed
long-abandoned tractors under their broad eaves, rats and snakes, and ancient
farming implements forgotten inside. This one was no different.

Twin ropes hung from the fat, swooping limb of a live oak
tree that was a hundred years old if it was a day. They’d been there for so
long the gnarled bark had swallowed them up. He followed them down to where the
broken seat of a swing wavered in the morning air, smoky beards of Spanish moss
dripping from the limbs above it.

Nothing Eli saw was particularly new to him. He was raised
on a working farm in rural Georgia, grew up with clay between his toes and corn
dust in his hair, earning every dime of spending money he made with his hands
and back and a work ethic bred into him through generations. He loved where he
lived, took a tremendous amount of pride in his heritage.

But something about this wasn’t right.

He took it all in with a fist of worry clenched around his
heart and a knot the size of a cantaloupe lodged in his throat. Bellamy didn’t
belong in a house that spoke its age with every footfall, set far enough back
from the road that no one would notice if something was wrong or she needed
help. With a gate that didn’t close to lock out strangers.