He took the turn into Pete Maddox’s ranch, and dust rose behind them. In his rearview mirror, he watched an eleven-year-old in a pink cowboy hat lean forward with her eyes shining. Beside him, a woman he had no business loving said, “When we get there, tell me what I can do to help.”
He answered, “Hold her head if she’ll let you. Either way, just talk to her.”
“Talk to her about what?”
“Animals don’t care what you say. They listen to how you say it.”
“I can do that. Goodness knows, I’ve been through childbirth myself. The cow and I can commiserate.”
He smiled a little. “Remember your daughter will be listening.”
She rolled her eyes at him as if to say, obviously.
The ranch house came into view, and beyond it, barns and cattle pens. In a paddock beside the barn, a cow lay on her side, her belly huge and sticking up awkwardly. A man in a baseball cap knelt with one knee on her neck.
Dillon killed the engine and got out, pulling on a shoulder length surgical glove as he strode over to the fence and ducked through it. Tessa and Makayla followed him more slowly, standing by the fence, still and focused.
“Okay,” he said to Pete. “Let’s help this mama have her baby.”
13
Mama cow and calf were fine.
Dillon ended up having reach inside the cow, unbend one of the calf’s front legs and turn its head so it presented front feet first with its nose on its knees. Pete sat beside him and each man grabbed a front leg and helped pull the calf with every contraction.
A Dillon’s instruction, Tessa plopped down in the dirt by the laboring cow’s head, murmuring a steady stream of soothing nonsense that the cow visibly responded to, relaxing and eventually putting her head in Tessa’s lap.
Tessa looked up at him, eyes wide, and he nodded encouragingly at her from behind the cow. She smiled briefly and went back to petting the cow’s face gently and telling her how brave she was and what a wonderful job she was doing.
Makayla stood at the fence, her eyes huge. This wasn’t the first animal birthing he would have chosen for her to see, but it was what it was.
“Here comes another contraction,” Dillon said quietly. He and the farmer dug their boots into the ground for purchase and gripped the towels wrapped around the calf’s front legs, which were exposed to about the knee. The cow’s entire body tensed and he and the farmer pulled with all their might.
The calf’s head came out. While the cow rested for a second, Pete quickly pulled the amniotic sac off the calf’s head and Dillon suctioned both nostrils.
The cow heaved again, and with his and Pete’s help, the calf’s shoulders and body emerged all at once. The men eased the calf’s hind feet from the exhausted cow.
“She did it,” Makayla cried softly.
Dillon used more towels to clean off the calf and rub its chest vigorously. The little calf shook its head and took its first breath.
“Welcome to the world, little one,” he murmured.
After Pete milked the umbilical cord to get all the blood from it into the calf, Dillon cut the cord and swabbed iodine on the stump near the calf’s tummy. He turned his attention back to the cow. She was straining again and he quickly helped her deliver the placenta.
“Do you know what this is, Makayla?” he asked over his shoulder as he checked to make sure it was intact. If it had torn and some of it had been left behind, it would cause infection and potentially kill the cow.
“It’s the thing that connects the calf to the cow’s uterus.”
“That’s right,” he replied. “Blood and nutrients pass through it to the baby.”
“That’s so cool,” she said in awe. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
Pete answered, “It’s a girl. What should I name her, Makayla?”
Dillon glanced up and saw wonder light her face.
“How about Hope?” Makayla said softly.