Page 37 of The Dairy Farmer's Daughter

They put on their boots and walked down to the milking shed, where Freya hunted around for a bottle and teat.

After finding them, she filled the bottle up from a tanker and secured the teat on top. The calf was alone in a pen, bleating hungrily when they found her.

Freya murmured softly and offered the calf the bottle. It was apprehensive at first then, with a little coaxing, took the teat in its mouth and sucked hungrily.

"Your turn." She offered Justin the upturned bottle.

Justin shook his head and stepped back. "I've never done it before."

"There's nothing to it. Just take the bottle and hold it at this level.

He took the bottle from her and held on as the calf pushed and pulled on the teat until the bottle was empty.

"Does she need more? How do you know that's enough?"

"She's a newborn so we just fed her colostrum and that's all she needs today. Soon she'll go on the milk feeder with the other calves."

Justin took in the size of the black and white calf. “She'sa newborn? She's huge."

"Usually they're born at around 30 kilograms. This one's a lot bigger though. I'm not surprised the mother didn't make it," Freya said as she cleaned the bottle, and left it to dry on the sink.

He shouldn't have been surprised. This was a working farm—animals were born and died every day. It was part of the life cycle. Fundamentally he knew this, but being here, seeing it in person, made it really sink in.

He watched Freya as she dried her hands on a towel. Her hair was swept up in a top knot and she looked sexy as hell, even in her muddy black gumboots.

It wasn’t just the farm.

She made him more aware of life, of love than he ever had been before.

Justin was bone-cold and shivering as he finished spraying the antiseptic on the last of the cups and put the spray away for the following morning.

Freya had slept over last night and woken him early, insisting they help with the morning milking, despite the cold rain that had pelted down consistently overnight.

The sound of rain hitting the iron roof drowned out all sounds as the last of the animals left the stalls with full bellies and empty udders.

"You look like you could use a warm shower," Freya said, a healthy blush on her cheeks, and a satisfied grin on her face.

He nodded. "A shower would be great."

They let Fred know they were going, before turning up the collars on their jackets and facing the wet, grey day.

"Want to make a run for it?" Freya asked.

"Do you think it will ease?" He looked towards the clouds, dark and thick.

"The alternative is to stay down here."

He glanced around. "I don't think I can get any colder than I already am."

She took his hand in hers, and they started running. Freya's boot got caught halfway to the house and she slipped forward, causing Justin to lose his balance as well, until they both fell flaton their backs in the mud. The cold rain sluiced down their faces. He rolled over and looked at Freya. She was laughing, despite the rain soaking her.

He chuckled, and stood and wiped his muddy hands on his jeans, before offering one to her. She grabbed his hand and let him help her up, still laughing as the rain soaked her hair and clothes further.

“What’s so funny?” He wiped mud from her cheek.

“This is,” she replied. “You and me out here while it's raining. Don't you love the rain?" She leaned back and opened her mouth.

He couldn’t help but watch in awe, admiring her free spirit and nature-loving attitude. So instead of being smart, and running up to the house, he pulled her closer to him and kissed the smile right off her face. The passion built between them. Freya turned serious and took his hands in hers. Together, they sprinted the final distance back to the house.

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