Page 68 of Fierce Protector

She nodded and jumped into the passenger seat of the side-by-side ATV while he settled the metal calf puller in the back.

As they rounded the barn on the path to the field, the orange glow of fire lit the edge of the field.

“What the…” Jeff braked.

They stared at the land edged by flames.

She slammed a palm into the dashboard. “If we hurry, we still have time to birth that calf before the fire comes too close!”

He zoomed across the field.

Dry conditions made every field for twenty miles dangerous ground. If the Davidsons’ ranch was up in smoke, and the fire was eating up the field at the Petersons’ in such a short amount of time, then she had to work fast.

And pray the wind didn’t shift again and push the blaze to the Gracey.

Panic threatened at the back of her throat. But she gulped it down and focused on what she needed to do.

Moving a cow in labor wasn’t possible. They had to pull the calf—now. When she spotted the dark hump of the downed momma, she gripped the seat, prepared to jump out and hit the ground running.

Jeff pulled up alongside the animal and grabbed the equipment to pull the calf.

Demi stared across the field, gauging how far away those flames were. She had time. She was confident.

“Think we got time, Doc?”

She looked at Jeff. “If the wind doesn’t shift. Let’s get this baby out!”

She hit her knees beside the momma. Mindless words meant to soothe the animal ran out of her in a stream as she worked to check the calf’s position.

Twisting her head to the owner, she confirmed, “Breech.”

“Tell me what to do.”

Just then, her hair blew across her cheek.

Panic swept through her. Oh no. The wind had shifted.

She swung around to look, and sure enough, the flames shot higher, flaring brighter.

Coming right at them.

“Hurry!” She grabbed the chain and reached for one of the calf’s tiny hooves. But only minutes into her efforts to get the calf into the correct position, Demi felt that wall of heat surging closer.

Too fast.

“Do you have a water tank for the cattle?” she asked Jeff.

He threw a look at the flames inching toward them and gave a brisk nod.

“Wet down as much of the field as you can.” The wind gusted. “Hurry!”

Her muscles shook from the effort of moving a calf into a better position from the tight confines of a laboring cow. But Demi was not leaving her position until conditions made it impossible to continue.

As she worked, so did Jeff. The rancher grabbed hoses and ran them to the big water tank that he used during dry spells. As he sprayed down the grass, Demi urged the cow to push at the same time she pulled on the metal equipment.

The chains stretched between her and the calf, but the baby only seemed to budge half an inch each yank.

She didn’t have time.

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