Page 24 of Holden: Bucked By Love (Crawford Ridge Ranch #1)

But my family was safe, so that's my silver lining.

"Holden?" Leni's voice breaks into a free space between calls. Something in her tone has me pulling Twister to a stop.

"Go ahead," I say.

"There's a calf stuck in a downed fence, over," she says, sounding concerned. I can hear the bawling mama cow in the background .

"Is it injured?" I ask.

"Yeah, I can see some blood," she replies. "We may want to get Giant Blond Man out here, over."

I chuckle at her handle for Walker, who pipes in with, "Can I please be Muscular Hero? Over."

"How about Conceited Cowpoke? Over," Landry calls in.

"Tell me what you need, Hottie Hay Bale," I say, already turning my horse toward where I think she is.

"That's Hay Bale Hottie," she replies. "I am not an actual bale of hay. And Holden, you're supposed to say over, over."

"Roger that," I respond with a grin, knowing I won't.

"I need a bagel with a boatload of cream cheese, and something warm to drink, over," she says, and I can still hear the cow bawling in the background, only it's a little louder now and I'm concerned Leni's getting closer and could get kicked or headbutted by the distressed mother.

"Leni, give the calf some space, especially the mama," I radio as I nudge Twister into a lope. "What's your location?"

"I just want to hug it, over," Leni replies, and I groan, hoping she's teasing.

"Do not hug the cow," I call in.

"You can't honestly expect me, a fellow mother, to not show some empathy and try to comfort the poor lady"—a pause—"over."

"That cow is not human," I state.

"'If not friend, why friend shaped?' Over," Leni replies with a laugh, quoting a silly meme that tells me she knows not to get within stomping distance.

I still keep Twister at a lope .

"Leni, what's your location, over?" Walker buzzes in.

"I'm by that one big tree with the twisty trunk where the hill goes down past the creek and into the west. The one where you guys liked to throw rocks at me and Holden when we were making out in the privacy of nature, over," she replies.

We all know exactly what tree she's talking about.

"You kissed out there? I'd have expected better, over," Dad says.

"They were in loooooove, over," Landry states with a singsong that has me shaking my head.

"There are much more romantic places on our land," Dad adds in. "Last week your mom and I found this secluded spot on the north border, just past the tree line where no one can see any—" There's a scuffling sound and then Landry, who's with Dad clearing out creek debris, comes on.

"Dad has lost radio privileges today. Please address all communication to me, over."

"Oooh, I'd like to know where that is, please," Walker comes on, amusement in his tone. "I have someone in mind who may like to explore that area, over."

"With you? Over," Leni chimes in.

"Obviously, over," Walker grunts.

"The calf seems to be . . . shoot! No, no, shoot . . ." Leni's radio buzzes off and I'm pushing Twister into a gallop now.

"Lenora?" Walker calls before I get my thumb on the button myself. "Do you copy?"

"That mama cow is maaaaad. Did you know cows headbutt? Over." Leni tries to crack a joke, but she sounds frightened and it falls flat.

"We're almost there," I say. "Give that cow some room. "

"I'm sitting in the stupid UTV, Holden. I was attacked unprovoked.

She's rabid, over." Leni's dropped trying to sound entertained, and her grumpy tone does more to ease my mind than her joking does.

An angry Leni is a fighter, and she'll be all right.

"She seriously keeps ramming the machine, over. "

Sure enough, as I round a corner and take Twister over a small rise, I'm greeted by the sight of Leni sitting in her UTV with her legs up in the air in front of her, trying to use her feet to defend herself from a mama cow that seems determined to hold Leni responsible for her baby being stuck and in distress.

The cow slams her head against the side of the UTV and Leni screeches as it rocks back and forth.

Walker appears on my right and he doesn't pause in his hustle to get down to the injured calf and restore order.

We both arrive at the twisted tree about the same time, and our appearance distracts the mama cow enough that she stops hitting the UTV and looks at the horses with big eyes.

If a cow can look mad, this cow is ticked.

I push up toward the UTV, while Walker dismounts and heads toward the calf.

Twister uses his size and training to herd the cow away from Leni and then comes to a stop next to her.

I dismount quickly and Leni stands up out of the UTV with a perturbed look on her face.

"Like it's my fault." She huffs as she gestures to the cow who is now watching Walker a little too closely. "I get it. I'm a mom, and I'd beat up someone for my kids too, but jeez."

I wrap my arm around her shoulders without thinking and haul her in against my side. "In the age-old battle between cow and human, I think you scored one for human."

She tips her head against my shoulder briefly. "We were this close to having steak for dinner tonight. "

"Holden, a little help?" Walker calls, breaking the spell.

I'm sad to let go of her, but duty calls, and we walk to where Walker is bent over the three-month-old heifer.

Her back legs are wrapped in barbed wire, and they're bloody from her thrashing around.

The two closest fence posts are knocked over, and I imagine this inexperienced calf tried to cross over the fence during the frightening storm last night. It's not a pretty sight.

"What are you thinking, Giant Blond Man?" I ask, earning a smile from Leni that makes my heart flip.

Walker doesn't bother to acknowledge the name, but that's okay, because Leni did.

"We need to get her out of this fence and back to the ranch. I'll examine and treat her there," he says.

We tie ropes from our horses to the fence to pull the wires apart, and while the horses stand steady, Walker and I use gloved hands to unwrap the heifer's legs.

Leni's job—which she's not that thrilled about—is to wave her arms in the air and look really big while keeping the mama cow away so we can work.

She grumbles the entire time, telling the cow how she'd better not mess with Leni or she'll be blacklisted from any tea parties that may or may not happen in the future.

Somehow, in the thick of a muddy, stinky, sweaty, wet, and cold situation, I find myself laughing.

Once we have the calf loaded on the back of the UTV, we start the trek back to the homestead main barn.

Leni drives, constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure the calf doesn't attempt to leap to its demise, and that the mama cow is still following along, bellowing the entire way.

Walker follows, radioing ahead to our mama that he's coming in with an injured calf and to have a few things ready for him. I'm hoping the kids are helpful too.

Technically, I could get back to checking fence lines and meet up with Leni again when she's dropped the calf, but I find myself following in their wake, feeling like part of a team in a new way. A better way.

And I know she feels the same, because as she watches Walker carry the calf into the darker interior of the barn, she looks up to where I'm still sitting on Twister and tips her hat back to meet my eyes.

"We make a good team, Crawford," she grins.