Page 14 of Her Second Chance Cowboy
Even if every moment spent with Cody made that harder and harder to do.
The drive to the vet’s office seemed to take an eternity, though in reality, it was probably no more than twenty minutes. Emma spent the entire trip in a state of nervous anticipation, her fingers drumming anxiously on her thigh as she watched the road ahead.
Every bump and jostle of the truck sent a fresh wave of worry through her, and she found herself craning her neck to check on the calf in the back, making sure it was still breathing, still hanging on.
Cody must have sensed her anxiety, because he reached over and laid a hand on her arm, his touch warm and reassuring. “She’s going to be okay, Emma,” he said softly, his eyes neverleaving the road. “We got to her in time. She’s a fighter, just like you.”
Emma felt a lump rising in her throat at his words, and she swallowed hard. She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust in his certainty and his strength. But the fear that had taken root in her heart refused to let go, and she found herself whisper a silent prayer to whoever might be listening, begging them to spare the life of this one small creature.
When they finally pulled up in front of the vet’s office, Emma was out of the truck before it had even come to a complete stop. She ran around to the back, her heart in her throat as she watched Cody lower the ramp and begin to untie the ropes that held the calf in place.
The animal was still alive, but only barely. Its breathing was shallow and labored, and its eyes had taken on a glassy, faraway look that made Emma’s stomach clench with fear.
She helped Cody helped the calf from the vehicle, taking most of its weight herself as they half-carried, half-dragged it towards the clinic doors. The vet was already waiting for them, a grim expression on his face as he took in the state of his new patient.
“Bring her inside,” he said, his voice clipped and professional. “I’ll do everything I can, but I can’t make any promises.”
Emma nodded, too choked up to speak, then stepped back as the vet and his assistants swarmed around it, hooking up IVs and monitoring equipment and speaking in low, urgent tones.
Emma felt like she was going to be sick. The sight of the calf lying there, so still and broken, was almost more than she could bear. She turned away, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she fought back a wave of nausea.
And then Cody was there, his arms coming around her in a fierce, protective embrace. He didn’t say anything, just held her close, his chin resting on the top of her head as she shook with silent sobs.
Emma clung to him, her face buried in his chest as she let the tears come. She cried for the calf, for her father, for the life she’d left behind and the future she couldn’t see. And through it all, Cody held her, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.
When her tears had finally run their course, Emma pulled back, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She felt raw and exposed, like a nerve ending that had been rubbed too hard for too long. But there was a strange sense of peace that came with it, a feeling of catharsis that left her feeling lighter than she had in years.
She looked up at Cody, a watery smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice hoarse from crying. “For everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you today.”
Cody’s eyes were soft as he looked down at her, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You would have been just fine, Emma,” he said, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “You’re stronger than you know. But I’m glad I could be here for you, all the same.”
Emma nodded, leaning into his touch for just a moment before stepping back, putting some distance between them.
She knew she couldn’t let herself get too close, knew that the feelings that were starting to stir in her heart were dangerous and complicated and better left unexamined.
Chapter Eight
The sun wasjust beginning to set as Cody’s truck pulled up in front of the barn, the vet’s car following close behind. Emma was waiting for them, a mixture of anxiety and relief churning in her gut as she watched them climb out of their vehicles.
She’d spent the last few hours preparing a spare stall for the calf, laying down fresh straw and filling a bucket with clean water. It had given her something to focus on, a way to channel her nervous energy into something productive.
But now, as she watched Cody and Dr. Hanson carefully unload the calf from the back of the trailer, her heart was in her throat. She could see the splint on the animal’s leg, the way it hobbled and stumbled as they guided it towards the barn.
“Easy now,” Cody murmured, his voice low and soothing as he supported the calf’s weight. “Almost there, little one.”
Emma held the stall door open for them, her eyes fixed on the calf’s face. It looked exhausted, its eyes dull and glassy, but there was a spark of life there that gave her hope.
As Cody and the vet settled the calf into the stall, the vet turned to Emma with a tired smile. “She’s a lucky one,” he said, wiping his hands on his jeans. “If you hadn’t been there to splint that leg, she might have done some serious damage to herself.”
Emma felt a flush of pride at his words, but it was tempered by the knowledge of just how close they’d come to losing the calf. “Thank you,” she said. “For everything you did today.”
The vet waved off her thanks with a gentle smile. “It’s what I do,” he said simply. “And like I said, you did most of the work. That splint probably saved her life.”
He bent down to check the calf’s leg one last time, his fingers gentle as he probed the splint. “It’s not a bad break,” hesaid, straightening up. “I’ve set it as best I can, but she’ll need some time to heal. I’ll come back in a week to check on her progress.”
Emma nodded, her throat tight. “Thank you,” she said again, not knowing what else to say.
Dr. Hanson gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder, then gathered up his equipment and headed for his car. Emma watched him go, feeling a sense of gratitude and relief washing over her.
