Chet

“Gabe?” I call out over the radio.

My radio squawks. “Kinda have my hands full, big brother. What’s up?”

“I have a heifer in labor behind the old barn.”

“Well Chet, that’s good news. Sort of makes all the time we spend ankle deep in cow shit worthwhile, doesn’t it?”

Ignoring his sarcasm I continue, “It’s Emma. She separated herself hours ago and I haven’t seen much progress. Put a call in to have Doc Hawes come out, just in case.”

“Well, Chet ... That’s going to be a problem, seeing as old Doc Hawes passed away last year. Remember? I think there’s a new guy now—Chris, maybe?”

“Fine, put a call in to send him out here.”

“Guess the radio cut out when I mentioned having my hands full,” he grumbles. “I’ll tell you what, I’ve got two head missing from the main herd, but I’ll worry about them after I put that call in to the vet. How’d that work for you, brother?”

“That’d be fine. Oh and Gabe, let me know if the doc is going to be a while.”

“You know brother,” he snaps. “You’re the kind of man who’s gonna make a good woman miserable one day.”

After an hour or so passes with no doc and no word back from Gabe, I try to raise him on the radio. When I do, I hear my voice through the buzz of a speaker on the other side of the barn right before Gabe appears with a cat that ate the canary look on his face. “What’s the matter, forget how to deliver a calf? Need a professional to walk you through? Rest easy now, I’m here,” he says, smugly. “What’s the latest?”

“No progress to speak of. Did you put that call in?”

“Damn. You were serious?” he bites. “Yes, in fact I did. Not that the cell reception is worth a damn in the pasture—best I could make out was that he’d be here this afternoon.”

While we wait, Gabe updates me on the missing cattle and a problem with some fencing he noticed earlier in the day. I would never admit it to anyone, least of all him, but when it comes to this ranch, he’s my right-hand man. It’s a pain in the ass to work with family, but I wouldn’t trust the things that matter around here to anyone else.

When Dad ran the place, you would’ve thought the job was nothing but campfires and trail rides—every cowboy’s dream. From the time I was old enough to fetch tools and saddle up a horse, I was at my dad’s side learning the ropes. He told me I was a natural and I believed him—the work just fit. When we lost him in a car accident ten years back, this place became the focus of my life. I guess I wanted to prove to him I had what it takes. I don’t know where I’d be now if it weren’t for my brothers stepping up, Gabe most of all. He walked away from a successful contracting business of his own to move home and help full time.

Lately I’ve felt the need for something more. I eat, sleep, and breathe this place and it’s been that way for so long, I wonder if any chance at a life beyond these fences has passed me by. This is my calling, no doubt—but that’s just work. Somewhere down the road, I always imagined coming home to a woman I could hold tight at the end of the day. Sitting side by side on the porch in matching wooden rockers and watching the sun slip behind the mountains. Maybe even boys of our own running wild at our feet. Don’t see much chance for that now. I’m on the wrong side of thirty-five and forty is approaching fast. I just don’t see a lot of opportunity given that I spend seventy-five percent of my waking hours alone, or worse, stuck with Gabe.

A few minutes later, a vehicle skids to a stop on the loose gravel drive. I look to Gabe. “Sounds like it’s over by the main house.”

“Probably the new vet,” Gabe says, nodding in agreement.

We walk out to introduce ourselves, but are stopped in our tracks by the sight ahead. Stepping down from a new-looking Ford pickup is the tightest pair of blue jeans my eyes have ever witnessed. Thank the good lord for Levi’s, is all I can think. Gabe shoots me a look, but I know better than to acknowledge it. He’s trying to call dibs on a woman we haven’t even met. Not that I fault him for it with a sight like her.

The woman standing before us is gorgeous—dressed practically for whatever the day might throw at her, from her well-worn boots, past those curvy thighs wrapped in faded denim, all the way to the ponytail poking through the hole of her old ball cap. I can’t decide if I’m more turned on by her build, tall and slender and athletic, or her everyday no-nonsense, girl-next-door kind of look. Either way, with that combination, this day just took a turn for the better.

“Can we help you ma’am?” I ask, taking the hat off my head and lifting it to shade the glare of the sun from my eyes.

“This is the Wilde place, isn’t it?” she asks.

“Why, yes ma’am.” I smile.

“Then it looks like I’m the one who can help you. I’m Christy, the veterinarian you called for. I understand you have a calving that’s not going well,” she says.

“Well, you’ll have to pardon me then, ma’am. I was told to expect a man named Chris.” I glare at Gabe, only to receive a shrug of indifference.

“Those last two letters make a big difference, don’t they?” She smiles, extending her arm to shake our hands.

“Apologies for the confusion then Christy, I’m Chet. Chet Wilde. And this is my brother, Gabe.”

“Pleasure, ma’am.” Gabe tips the brim of his hat.

For a moment, the three of us stand awkwardly in the driveway, stumbling for conversation.

“Welp—I suppose we better get you on to Emma.” I turn and lead the way.

Gabe, never one to sit quiet for long, interjects as we walk, “So Christy, you aren’t from around here. What’s your story? Where’d you come from and how long have you been in town?”

“What makes you so sure I’m not from around here?” she asks as the gravel crunches beneath our boots.

“Well, anyone as pretty as you I would already know about.”

“I see how it’s gonna be,” she replies with a grin. “I’m going to have to keep my eye on you, aren’t I?”

“Try not to pay him any mind,” I say. “But you’d be right to watch out for him.”

Gabe mouths his dissatisfaction with my statement as we approach Christy’s patient.

“Well Gabe, I suppose you ought to be getting back to it then.”

He doesn’t take the bait. “I don’t know big brother, you seemed overwhelmed when you radioed for help getting a vet out here. I’d be afraid to leave you alone now. What if you need something and can’t reach me next time?”

“I think with the doc here, we’ll manage well enough.”

Reluctantly, Gabe extends his hand and gives Christy a firm ‘nice to meet you’ shake while shooting me a contemptuous glare. “Hope to see you again soon, Doc,” he says over his shoulder.

Christy assesses the situation, determines the calf is breech, and must be repositioned. Without so much as a word, she grabs her kit, rolls up her sleeves, and gets to work. Yep, this woman is a keeper. An hour or so later, thanks to the doc, nature takes over and momma delivers little Lucky. Both seem no worse for wear.

“I can’t thank you enough for the help. Doc Hawes took his house call thank yous in bourbon. You in a hurry to get back, or do you have time for a drink?”

“I do appreciate a good bourbon, but I’ll have to pass this time. And for the record, house calls are my favorite part of the job. No thanks needed.” She shoves one hand in her back pocket and uses the other to shield her eyes from the sun.

“All right then, what about supper, instead? With you being new in town, and all—how’d that be?” I ask.

She blushes and looks at her feet. “That’s very kind of you, but I doubt my Mark would appreciate the gesture all that much. And it would be rude not to invite him, don’t you think?” She laughs lightly, clearly uncomfortable.

I cough. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see a wedding ring. I guess I should’ve realized you might take it off for a call like this. It’d probably be tough to explain, losing something that important inside a cow.”

“Ha. I’m sure it would be, but I’m not married.” Christy bites her bottom lip and takes a step backward. “Mark is my boyfriend. Though we’ve been together longer than most first marriages last nowadays.” Embarrassed by her words, she shoots me an apologetic smile, gathers her things, and walks back to her truck. “You have yourself a good rest of the day, Mr. Wilde,” she says politely as she climbs in the cab and closes the door.

Her truck is still kicking up dust down the driveway when my mind starts rolling around different excuses to see her again. For about as long as I can recall, this place has been the only thing I’ve had time for. Something about that woman makes me wonder if things are about to change.