Page 42 of More Than Anything

Avery gave her a lazy smile. “No. I don’t mind. Hop on.” Lydia climbed aboard and sat there waiting. “Hold on,” he ordered.

“To what?”

Avery laughed. “Me!” he called out as he gunned the four-wheeler. Lydia gave a little squeal, pitched backward, and then grabbed Avery around his midsection and hung on. As he powered out across the pasture, he smiled. Lydia’s arms felt good around his waist, and he found himself glad she’d stayed. He knew he shouldn’t feel that way, but he did. It was there again, that weird connectedness he’d felt when he’d powered up against her that day in a rage, but this time none of those negative emotions existed. It was just quiet and gentle.

They drove up to the feed trough and Avery shut off the motor of the ATV. The cattle started moving toward them immediately, hungry and seemingly wondering where Avery had been. One by one, Avery and Lydia took the buckets from the trailer and poured the contents into the trough, watching as the cattle came up and took a spot, some of them jostling others to get to the feed. They’d reloaded all the empty buckets onto the trailer and were ready to go when Avery yelled, “Look!”

One heifer lay in the pasture several hundred yards out, trying to stand but unable to, and Avery’s heart clutched. He took off at a dead run and slid to a stop beside her, staring down, touching her here and there. It took a few seconds for Lydia to catch up, and she did the same, looking the cow over. Before Avery could ask, Lydia wheezed out, “Oh, no.”

“What? What’s wrong with her?”

Lydia shook her head. “Blackleg. You need to get Dr.Tompkins out here ASAP.”

“What’s blackleg?”

“Do you have your gun with you?”

“What?”

“Gun! Do you have a gun with you?” Lydia barked out.

“No! Why would I have a?—”

Lydia glared at him. “A rancher should ALWAYS carry a gun! You never know when you’ll need to put an animal down! Don’t you know anything?” she bellowed.

Avery was bewildered. “I don’t understand?—”

“Get the vet out here now! Tell him he needs to bring inoculations for blackleg. And he needs to bring a rifle or pistol.” Lydia stroked the cow’s head as the animal moaned and groaned. “Oh, poor baby. It’s okay. It’ll be okay, cow.” She stared back at Avery, who was frozen in place. “AVERY! DO IT! NOW!”

“O-o-o-kay!” Snatching his phone from his pocket, he hit the vet’s contact and was assured by the answering service that Dr.Tompkins would be on his way in minutes. As soon as he hung up, he dropped to his knees beside the cow. “What do I do?”

“There’s nothing we can do. She’ll die, and it’ll be a horrible death if she’s not put out of her misery. And more of them will too.”

Avery was horrified. “It’s contagious?”

“No, but it’s probably either in the soil or your hay. A carcass can contaminate the soil too. And if they’re not vaccinated, they’ll get it and die just like her. There’s no cure for blackleg. See this swollen place on her leg?” Avery nodded. “Feel it.”

“It’s like a balloon.”

“Yeah. There’s gas trapped in there. It’s all over her. See? There’s a spot here on her neck that’s swollen, and one here on her chest. And there’s no cure. They die quickly, and sometimes no one notices that they’re sick until they’re dead.”

“Should I go and get my gun?” Avery asked, horrified that the cow was in pain.

“The vet’ll be here any minute, I’m sure. He’ll have a rifle. Hey,” she said, catching his eyes, “it’s okay. I’m sorry I yelled at you that way. You didn’t know.”

“I didn’t. I feel so stupid,” Avery whispered.

“Don’t. Most people around here have never seen it. I only know about it because of my college courses. The vet probably didn’t even vaccinate them because it’s not that common. But he’ll vaccinate all of them now.”

“Good.”

“And wherever you got that hay, you need to let them know about this. It may be an isolated case, but they need to alert their other customers of the possibility. The faster they can diagnose and vaccinate, the fewer animals they’ll lose.”

“I will. I’ll call them first thing tomorrow.” Avery sat down near the cow’s head, stroking her neck. It was the least he could do. The other cattle had finished eating and were milling around, some of them nosing at the buckets on the trailer and knocking them off, but neither of the people in the field cared. All they could do was sit there and try to comfort a suffering animal. She was all that mattered in that moment.

It was almost dark when the vet arrived. He’d opened the gates and driven straight out into the pasture, and the cows scattered when they saw the vehicle coming. He drove right up to the little group, his headlights offering plenty of illumination. “So what do we have here?” he asked.

“I’m certain it’s blackleg,” Lydia offered, pointing to the swollen spots on the cow’s body.

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