Page 159 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys
He checked various indicators, explaining each as he went. "I'm looking at the hair coat for meconium staining, checking if he can maintain sternal recumbency—that's the ability to lie upright on his chest—and assessing eye responsiveness."
The calf lay limp under his ministrations, occasionally twitching but not making the efforts to rise that Wade clearly hoped to see.
"There's a nursing bottle in there, Nelly," Wade nodded toward the bag which had, at some point, toppled over. "Can you grab it?"
I scrambled over, rifling through the bag again and wondering how the heck I’d missed the feeding bottle. It wasn’t filled with white milk though. The contents were bubbly, and a familiar shade of toxic green. I blinked in surprise, then looked more closely to confirm what I was seeing.
"Is this... Mountain Dew?" I asked, holding up the bottle with its unmistakable, carbonated, lime-hued contents.
Wade nodded, not looking up from the calf. "Caffeine perks up listless calves. It's vet-approved. Works better than a lot of the commercial products believe it or not."
I carried the bottle back, watching as Wade gently pried open the calf's mouth and inserted the nipple. The calf seemed reluctant at first, but after a few drops hit its tongue, it began to suckle weakly.
"That's it," Wade encouraged. "Good boy."
While Wade tended to the calf, Dolly began straining her neck, trying to reach her baby. She was too far away, so she started struggling to move her bulk across the hay, unable to stand after the strenuous birth but nonetheless determined. Boone helped her, gently lifting and adjusting the large animal until she was close enough to connect with her baby. Dolly’s rough tongue began methodically cleaning the calf, licking away the stickiness with motherly persistence.
Boone, Wade, and I gradually backed away, giving mother and baby space. Dolly's attention was entirely focused on her calf now, her earlier distress replaced by intense maternal focus. The calf, energized by the caffeine, had begun making more purposeful movements; its head lifted occasionally as its mother's tongue stimulated its circulation.
" Let’s give them some bonding time. Vet should be here soon," Wade said softly.
We left the mother and son, ambling slowly across the grass. Just as we reached the edge of the paddock, a truck rumbled down the driveway. The sun had dipped lower, early evening replacing late afternoon. A station wagon bounced down the rutted path, horn honking briefly to announce its arrival.
"I’ll go meet Doc Simmons," Wade said, hopping the fence instead of taking the time to open the gate. After a few paces, he glanced back at me. God, his eyes glowed like emeralds right now with the way the sun splashed across his face.
“You did amazing, Nelly.” The smile that stretched his face was so damn bright. “I’ll be a while with the Doc. I’ll catch up with y’all after.” With that, he jogged away.
Boone and I watched as the vet climbed from his car and called out a greeting. Wade shouted something back. I turned around to stare at the calving shelter, a sense of accomplishment coursing through every inch of my body. Because of us—me and two of my amazing Alphas—Dolly and her calf were alive. Was there anything else in the world that felt so affirming? To save a living, breathing creature that way? For the first time in my life, I set dance aside, and I realized that I could find a deep and lasting fulfillment in something totally different.
“You coming, Nelly?”
I blinked, turning back around in slow motion and finding Boone, glorious braid pulled over his shoulder, holding the gate open and waiting patiently. Wordlessly, I nodded and began walking. When I passed next to Boone, a wave of juniper, campfire, and mint kissed my body and my inner Omega stretched and yawned inside of me. I woke up for him, for my Alpha, perfuming the air and flushing with warmth. I could tell he sensed the way I wanted him, the way my biological imperative told me to, ‘Touch him! Kiss him! Mark him!’
His hand tightened its grip on the top of the gate.
He inhaled deeply, eyes half closing.
But he didn’t comment. He didn’t push. He simply closed the gate behind us, and we walked in companionable silence. My mind kept replaying what I’d just done. My hands were still sticky from helping Dolly.
“I need to wash my hands,” I commented. Though as soon as I said it, I realized that my skin, coated with the afterbirth and beginning to dry into something crusty and unpleasant, wasn’t the most important thing.
“Stables,” Boone said simply, “Got a sink and soap in such in there.”
“Okay,” I agreed, “I’d like to see Ghost anyways.”
A few steps.
A light breeze.
Sunshine warming my back.
"That was..." I trailed off, searching for words that could encompass what I'd just experienced. "Incredible. Terrifying, but incredible."
Boone nodded, his profile strong against the darkening sky. "Birth always is.”
I’d helped bring new life into the world.God, I wished Grandpa was still alive. I wished Grandmother knew who I was.Maybe I would call her. Even if she didn’t remember who I was, maybe she’d still listen to me tell her about Dolly and her calf…and about Sagebrush and my Alphas.
"I've never felt anything like that before," I admitted. "It was like... like being part of something bigger than myself."
