Page 14 of Saddles and Snowstorms (Sagebrush Cowboys #4)

Brooks

T he snow started sometime in the night, a thin blanket covering the ground by morning. And by noon it was coming down with a vengeance.

What started out as a beautiful morning full of sunshine and clear skies quickly turned into dark clouds and snowflakes so thick I couldn’t see the end of my own driveway. After that I couldn’t even see the barn.

So, imagine my surprise when I saw a brown ball of fur suddenly appear through the snow, hurtling through the yard and out into the pasture. The moment I saw it, I knew exactly what it was.

“God… fucking dammit!” I cried, slamming my palm against the wall next to the window. “Of all the fucking days…”

Hank hobbled up beside me, dragging his casted leg behind him. I must’ve startled him with my outburst.

“Go lay down, Hank,” I sighed, shooing him away. “I don’t need you gettin’ more hurt with a blizzard on our hands.” I turned back to the window, sighing again. “And that stupid calf is gonna get himself killed if he doesn’t get back in the barn.”

I knew I had no choice but to go and find him, despite the weather.

I yanked my heavy coat off the hook by the door, already cursing under my breath.

The last thing I needed was to go chasing after some dumb calf in a blizzard, but I couldn’t just let the little bastard freeze to death either.

Especially not after all the work I’d put into bringing him into the world a couple weeks before.

“Stay,” I ordered Hank when he tried to follow me. The old border collie whined but settled back down, his brown eyes watching me reproachfully.

The cold hit me like a slap as I stepped outside, snow immediately clinging to my eyelashes. I pulled my hat lower and trudged toward the barn, the wind cutting through my jeans like they were made of paper. By the time I made it to the barn door, I couldn’t feel my fingers.

“Goddamn Texas weather,” I muttered, pushing open the heavy door. “Seventy degrees a week ago and now this shit.”

The inside of the barn was warmer, but not by much. I quickly counted the cattle, confirming what I already knew—one missing. The youngest calf, barely a month old and dumber than a box of rocks. His mama lowed anxiously from her pen where she was still contained.

“I’ll find him,” I promised her, though I wasn’t sure how I’d manage it in this weather.

I grabbed a length of rope and looped it over my shoulder, then pulled my gloves back on. The wind had picked up even in the few minutes I’d been inside, howling like a wounded animal as I stepped back into the storm.

“Fuck me,” I hissed, squinting against the onslaught of white. The snow was coming down sideways now, driven by the wind. I could barely see three feet in front of me.

I headed in the direction I’d seen the calf running, toward the south pasture. The snow was already ankle-deep and getting deeper by the minute. My boots crunched through the fresh powder as I trudged forward, calling out uselessly. As if the stupid animal would come when called.

Twenty minutes later, I was soaked through and shivering. My hands had gone from painful to numb, and I couldn’t feel my face. The pasture stretched out endlessly, white on white, and there was no sign of the calf.

“I’m gonna die out here looking for you, you little shit,” I growled through chattering teeth. Just as I was about to turn back, I caught a glimpse of movement to my right.

“Hey!” I shouted, my voice nearly lost in the wind. The brown blur paused, and I lunged forward, stumbling through the snow. The calf, startled by my sudden approach, bolted again. “You little bastard, get back here!”

I gave chase, my lungs burning with each icy breath. The snow was getting deeper, almost to my knees in some spots, and my legs felt like they were encased in concrete. The calf, lighter and somehow more nimble despite its gangly legs, kept just ahead of me.

When my boot caught on something hidden beneath the snow, I went down hard. The fall knocked the wind out of me, and for a moment, I just lay there, the cold seeping through my clothes and into my bones. The thought of just closing my eyes flashed through my mind—dangerous thinking in this weather.

“Fuck,” I groaned, pushing myself up on trembling arms. My jeans were soaked through now, clinging to my thighs like a second skin. “I swear to God, when I catch you...”

The wind died down for half a second as I looked up.

My gaze caught the calf just in time to watch it run headfirst into a barbed wire fence.

His front half made it through somehow, but his back left leg was what betrayed him.

I couldn’t help but wince as I saw it catch, heard the calf cry out, and then saw the streak of bright red on the snow.

“Fuck…” I groaned again.

I forced myself back to my feet, ignoring the protest of my frozen limbs. The calf’s cries cut through the howling wind, desperate and pained. As I stumbled closer, I could see him thrashing, only making the barbed wire dig deeper into his leg.

“Easy, easy,” I called out, though my voice was barely audible above the storm.

When I reached him, I dropped to my knees in the snow. The calf’s eyes were wide with fear, his breath coming in panicked puffs of white vapor. Blood dripped steadily from where the barbed wire had sliced into his hind leg, staining the pristine snow beneath him.

“You really did it this time, didn’t you?” I muttered, reaching for the rope at my shoulder.

My fingers were so numb I could barely grip it, but I managed to loop it around the calf’s neck, securing him so he couldn’t bolt again. Then I turned my attention to the fence. The barbs had dug deep, and every time the calf moved, they tore further into his flesh.

“Stop movin’, damn it,” I hissed, trying to hold him still with one hand while working at the wire with the other.

Blood was everywhere now, stark crimson against white snow. The calf was weakening, his panicked movements becoming sluggish. I needed to get him free and back to the barn, fast, or I’d lose him.

“Come on, you little shit. Don’t you die on me now.”

Finally, I managed to loosen the wire and the calf came free.

But the bleeding was worse now that the wire was no longer cutting off his circulation.

I quickly pulled off my belt and wrapped it around his leg above the wound, tightening it off to make a tourniquet.

It would keep him alive for now, but from what I could see through the blood-soaked fur, he was far beyond my capability to mend. I needed help.

Without a second thought, I pulled out my phone.

Rowan had given me his cell number in case of emergencies.

Although I’d put it in my phone immediately and spent the better part of the night before staring at it, wanting desperately to text him and apologize once more, I didn’t hesitate to dial now.

It rang a couple of times before he picked up.

“Hello?” he said the moment it picked up.

“Don’t hang up,” I replied, knowing he was probably still pissed at me.

“What can I do for you Mr. Callahan?” It was a cold greeting, but I knew I deserved it.

“Got an emergency. That damn calf got out again and got tangled in a fence, tearing up his leg. I’d stitch it myself, but it’s a bit beyond my skill set.”

The wind and snow around me picked up, howling again. I hoped he could still hear me through it all.

“It’s hell out there,” Rowan sighed. “But I think I can make it out to your place. Gonna take me a while though.”

“I’m sorry, Doc. I know it’s bad.”

“It’s fine. That’s the life of a vet. I’m on my way.”

“Thanks.”

The line went dead and I tucked my phone back in my pocket. The calf next to me made a few more pathetic sounds before laying down in the snow.

“Oh no you don’t,” I said, reaching down and getting my arms around him. “You’re not gonna die on me now. Not after all the shit you put me through.”

With one loud grunt, I managed to get the calf off the ground and up around my shoulders, making him a bit easier to carry.

Blood smeared over my jacket and I clicked my tongue.

Hopefully it would wash out. If not, it could just join the plethora of stains already gathered in the fabric from years of farm service.

The trek back to the barn was a blur of white and cold. My boots sank deeper with each step, the calf’s weight making me stagger. Blood—warm at first but quickly cooling—dripped down my neck and back.

“Almost there,” I muttered, more to myself than the calf.

By the time I reached the barn, my legs were numb stumps, and my arms trembled from the strain. I shouldered open the door and nearly fell inside, catching myself against a post at the last second. The sudden shelter from the wind was almost disorienting.

I laid the calf down on a clean pile of hay and quickly checked his wound. The belt was holding, but blood still seeped around it. The calf’s mother lowed frantically from her pen, sensing her baby’s distress.

“He’ll be alright,” I told her, though I wasn’t sure if I believed it myself.

I grabbed some clean towels from my supply shelf and pressed them against the wound, then threw a blanket over the calf’s shivering body. My own hands were shaking so bad I could barely manage it.

“Fuck,” I whispered, looking down at my blood-covered clothes.

I knew I needed to get back to the house and change before Rowan arrived. I couldn’t let him see me like this—covered in blood, half-frozen, looking like I’d been through hell. Which I had, but that wasn’t the point.

“You stay put,” I told the calf, as if the poor creature had any intention of going anywhere.

His eyes were glassy, his breathing shallow.

I tucked the blanket around him more securely and headed for the door.

It was the best I could do for him for now.

I just hoped Rowan made it in time to save him.

The wind hit me like a physical blow when I stepped outside again.

The snow was coming down even harder now, if that was possible, and the path I’d trampled earlier was already filling in.

I tucked my chin against my chest and pushed forward, my frozen jeans scratching against my thighs with each step.

By the time I made it to the house, Hank had his front paws up on the windowsill, staring at me through frosted glass. I allowed myself to grin a little, ready to feel the warmth inside the cabin once more. However, the moment I stepped up onto the porch steps, everything went wrong.

Without warning, my boot went flying out from under me the moment I put my weight on it. I glanced down just in time to see the patch of ice that had formed on the steps without my notice. My arms flailed as I fell backward, my hands never quite finding the railing.

I wasn’t sure how it happened, but as my feet came out from under me, one of my boots managed to work its way between the railing balusters, trapping my foot.

The rest of my body went down, hitting the ground hard.

At the same time I heard a sickening crunch in my ankle and streak of white hot pain shot up my leg.

However, the next second my head struck the ground, cutting off the pain in an instant as everything went dark.