Page 32 of Chasing the Wild
We repeat the same process for the second animal. With Layla making speedy work of cleaning up the wound and making sure nothing is embedded that might cause further infection.
It’s the last one we get to that seems to be putting up more of a fight. Once I’ve wrestled them beneath me, making sure they’re secured, Layla starts to examine the site where the blood is oozing from and sucks in a breath.
“This one is worse than the others.” She presses carefully around the edges.
“How bad?”
“She’ll be ok, but needs stitches.” Layla sounds calm, but I can see it’s only on the surface.
“Ok.”
“Colt—” She starts to falter. In the bone chilling wind here in a paddock under the cold eye of Devil’s Peak, this is the last place I want her to have to be right now, but this is the reality out here and she’s going to have to face it.
“Layla.” I adjust my position and lean closer to her. “Get it done.”
Her green eyes flicker up to mine, and the glow of our head lights illuminates the plumes of white from each of our breaths where we’re hunched close together.
“I’ve never done this before… like this. In a proper holding pen, or chute in the daylight, yes. But not in the dark when I might fuck it up.”
“Do you care about this animal, Layla?”
She breathes a little harder. “Of course I do.”
“Then I know you can do it. Because you care enough to do the job properly.”
“But—”
“Did I hire you for nothing? No. You’re the one with the fancy vet schooling, and I’m just a cowboy who can hold this heifer down while you stitch her up. Unless you want me to go back up to the house and get my rifle and put her out of her misery.”
Her face contorts, and I see her nostrils flare slightly. She reaches for the needle and suture thread, but her hands are still trembling.
Without thinking, I grab hold of her fingers in my free hand and squeeze tight. She’s so fucking soft under my touch, and I almost groan at the feel of her beneath my rough hands.
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” she murmurs.
Little does this girl know, she could never.
“You won’t. Now, just take a deep breath for me, baby.”
Her eyes search mine, but she does as I say. Taking a long, shaky inhale.
“And out.” She blows a white plume into the space between us.
I stroke her palm with my thumb, and then guide her hands over to the wound.
“Just focus on one stitch at a time. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 10
It’s well after sundown by the time we make it back to the house. Even though it’s not late, it feels like we were down in the paddock for hours.
Colt orders me to go shower and warm up. I don’t fight him.
The after-effects of the adrenaline, shock, and worry have sapped my energy, and I spend a lot longer under the warm spray thawing out than I normally would.
When I get back to the kitchen, I’m surprised to see Colt is also freshly showered, and not only that but he’s rustled up dinner for two from somewhere.
“Don’t get too excited.” He says gruffly as the steaming hot stew is slid in front of me. “Just leftovers from the freezer.”
