Page 27 of Saddles and Snowstorms
Dakota nodded, his dark hair shifting against his shoulders. “Beau’s right. This is turnin’ into a proper whiteout. Might be safer to wait it out a bit.”
I glanced at my watch, surprised to find we’d been talking for nearly two hours. The diner had emptied out around us, just a couple of die-hard regulars nursing coffees at the counter. Even Dolly was looking anxious, peering out at the weather with a frown creasing her weathered face. Just then, my phone buzzed on the table. Someone was calling me.
“Hello?” I said the moment I picked it up.
“Don’t hang up,” I heard a gruff voice say on the other end of the line. I recognized it immediately.
“What can I do for you Mr. Callahan?” It was a cold greeting, but I wasn’t quite finished being mad at him for yelling at me. The moment I said his name, everyone at the table looked up.
“Got an emergency. That damn calf got out again and got tangled in a fence, tearing up his leg. I’d stitch it myself, but it’s a bit beyond my skill set.”
I looked outside at the storm raging, turning the whole world white. I could barely see the road. “It’s hell out there,” I replied with a sigh. “But I think I can make it out to your place. Gonna take me a while though.”
“I’m sorry, Doc,” he said, the wind howling behind him. He must’ve been in the barn or something. “I know it’s bad.”
“It’s fine. That’s the life of a vet. I’m on my way.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as I hung up the phone, Logan looked over at me. “You really goin’ out in this? It’s real bad out there.”
I pushed myself up from the table, dropping a twenty in the center for the bill. “Yeah. No choice. Calf tore up his leg and from the sounds of it, if I don’t stitch him up, he won’t survive the night.”
“Do you want us to come with you?” Beau offered, glancing at Lucas who nodded in agreement. “We don’t mind.”
“I’ll be alright.” I gave them a half smile, one that betrayed my false sense of confidence. “But I’ll text you to let you know I made it, how about that?”
“If you run into any trouble,” Lucas added, “just let us know. We’ve got equipment that can get out to Brooks’ place without a problem. Snow ain’t gonna stop one of our bigger tractors or the horses.”
“I’ll let you know.”
With a wave I headed for the door, Dakota’s scarf still wrapped tightly around my neck. With a deep breath, I headed out into the storm, the wind and snow biting at my skin the moment I stepped out.
Chapter 10
Brooks
The snow started sometime in the night, a thin blanket covering the ground by morning. And by noon it was coming down with a vengeance.
What started out as a beautiful morning full of sunshine and clear skies quickly turned into dark clouds and snowflakes so thick I couldn’t see the end of my own driveway. After that I couldn’t even see the barn.
So, imagine my surprise when I saw a brown ball of fur suddenly appear through the snow, hurtling through the yard and out into the pasture. The moment I saw it, I knew exactly what it was.
“God… fucking dammit!” I cried, slamming my palm against the wall next to the window. “Of all the fucking days…”
Hank hobbled up beside me, dragging his casted leg behind him. I must’ve startled him with my outburst.
“Go lay down, Hank,” I sighed, shooing him away. “I don’t need you gettin’ more hurt with a blizzard on our hands.” I turned back to the window, sighing again. “And that stupid calf is gonna get himself killed if he doesn’t get back in the barn.”
I knew I had no choice but to go and find him, despite the weather. I yanked my heavy coat off the hook by the door, already cursing under my breath. The last thing I needed was to go chasing after some dumb calf in a blizzard, but I couldn’t just let the little bastard freeze to deatheither. Especially not after all the work I’d put into bringing him into the world a couple weeks before.
“Stay,” I ordered Hank when he tried to follow me. The old border collie whined but settled back down, his brown eyes watching me reproachfully.
The cold hit me like a slap as I stepped outside, snow immediately clinging to my eyelashes. I pulled my hat lower and trudged toward the barn, the wind cutting through my jeans like they were made of paper. By the time I made it to the barn door, I couldn’t feel my fingers.
“Goddamn Texas weather,” I muttered, pushing open the heavy door. “Seventy degrees a week ago and now this shit.”
The inside of the barn was warmer, but not by much. I quickly counted the cattle, confirming what I already knew—one missing. The youngest calf, barely a month old and dumber than a box of rocks. His mama lowed anxiously from her pen where she was still contained.
