Page 17 of A Twist of Faith
With one last glance at the cloudy sky, she turned and marched around to the back yard. A gold and white beagle charged forward, sounding out his welcome.Mustard.
“I’m not going to bother you, Dog. I only want to find your master.”
The dog cocked his head as if listening to each word. Dee walked around him, keeping a safe distance from his muddy face and her pantsuit. “I should not have to resort to this to find Reese Mitchell.”
The dog’s head perked up at the name and then he charged down the hill, stopping halfway. He looked back to Dee and waited. She stared at him. He stared back. There was no way that dog understood her, was there? The animals here were crazy. One smiled, and both spoke English. Maybe it all really was one long bad dream.
As she neared the dog, he took off running further down the hill and then stopped for her to catch up again. Her heels sank into the earth a few times, leaving clods on the backs of her shoes and slowing her forward momentum, but she’d come too far to turn back now.
Reese’s beat-up truck sat at the bottom of the hill Mustard started climbing, so Reese had to be close. She followed the dog up the short but steep embankment, more than once relying on her heels as scaffolding in the earth to keep her from falling backward. Oh, yes, this was another reason she wanted to get out of Ransom as quickly as possible. Civilization. Sidewalks. Escalators. Air that didn’t smell like dank and pungent manure.
Her Calvin and Hobbes proved almost prophetic as it referred to reality spinning life out of control.
Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a tall, single-shot, caramel latte right now.She grabbed the next tree, a clearing in sight.On a veranda overlooking the Shenandoah Valley.A branch snagged her bun and sent half of her hair into a frenzy.Eating a chocolate donut with cream in the middle.She took another valiant step.Without one cow, tractor, or cattle farmer in sight.
Her gaze rose above the tree line to the cloudy sky.God, is this some funny and somewhat sadistic dream to torture me for not going to church in ten years?What else exhibited the wrath of God on a wanna-be high class professional more than hiking up a soggy bank in heels to find an Appalachian cattle farmer who was helping some poor woman named Gypsy? Judgment produced an acute sting, or was that the slap of a branch to the back of her head?
With the painful nudge of the tree-branch and the determination of promotion spurring her on, she crested the hill. Trees parted to reveal a large pasture with a one-hundred-eighty-degree view of the countryside—and right in the middle of the field bent Reese Mitchell in a position she’d never hoped to see anyone in again.
He stood covered in mud, OB chain in hand, assisting in birthing a calf.
Reese hadto be seeing things. Maybe fighting with the cow for the past hour caused him to lose his mind. That was his only explanation for visions of Dr. Roseland stomping toward him in a navy pantsuit and heels, eyes narrowed for a fight. Mustard led the way.
She looked downright fascinating.
“There you are.” She hissed and wobbled a little on her heels. Her hair fell in wild strands from her bun around her pink face. “What are you doing?”
If it was a dream, he’d play along. “I’m sipping tea and eating bonbons. What does it look like I’m doin’?”
Her face turned all shades of red. “Listen here, Mr. Mitchell, I didn’t walk all the way up here to be insulted. We had an appointment and you didn’t—”
Her foot landed smack in the middle of what the cows left behind. Yep, it must be a dream, ’cause that’d be exactly something he’d imagine. He laughed. She sent him a look to curdle his insides. The cow made a mournful sound and Reese tightened his hold on the OB chain he’d just fastened to the unborn calf’s ankles. He’d pulled on the chain for the past fifteen minutes, hoping to get the calf out before he lost both the baby and the mama.
“I’d love to hear all about how much you need to fix my speech, but right now I have a cow in trouble. So, I’ll have to pass.”
“I’m beginning to think fixing you is way out of my league. A team approach might be more fitting.”
Daggone it, even her little snarl looked cute.
Focus, Mitchell—and not on the brunette.
“I didn’t take you as a quitter, Doc.”
“I am not a quitter. It’s just that—” She placed her hands on her hips and stared hard enough to wipe his smile clean off his face. “You could have called me. Said something like” —she put on her best imitation— “I ain’t got no time to meet with you today, Doc. I gotta go birth a cow.”
Reese’s grin stretched wide. “You do that real good. Makes me like you more.”
If he didn’t know better, she almost relaxed those tight lips of hers into a smile.
“I don’t really care if you like me or not. I’m here to help you with your job interview and me with my research, not be likeable.”
Reese held the chain with one hand and used his other to wipe his brow. “You beat all, woman. You come all the way up here to work on my speech? I thought at least the house was afire or something’ worth all the effort.”
“I was under the impression this interviewwasworth something to you. And my name is Adelina, notwoman.”
He groaned but didn’t dare agree out loud. In fact, this job made the difference between keeping the farm together and selling it off in pieces. The thought about broke his heart.
Another contraction tightened the chain and pulled his attention back to the cow. “Come on, Gypsy. You can do this, girl.”
