Chapter 35

The next few weeks end up just being us all waiting for calves to be born. Three calves are born within the first week, the tiny baby cows now adorably ready for their trip, but the others are still stubbornly refusing to calf. The poor mamas are full to bursting, lumbering about the field with mournful moos at those that calved, as if asking them to wait for them. I make sure to go out there and reassure them as often as possible that the time is coming, but I’ve never been through pregnancy personally. All I can do is offer comfort and bring them an extra treat each time I go into their pasture.

I miss each of the first births annoyingly because I’m out helping Wiley in the fields, so I end up asking Levi if he can come get me the next time one of the mamas goes into labor. I want to witness it and help if I can. I’ve never seen a calf be born and I’m lowkey invested in the mamas trying to pop out babies. I told him that three days ago, and when he knocks at my cabin door after midnight one night, I rush out after him without hesitation, barely sparing a moment to scrap my hair up in a messy bun.

I’m still in my pajama shorts and shirt, but I shove my feet into my boots and follow him out to the barn, excited, ready. This is it. This is my chance to show I can help. And there’s nothing that hypes me up quite like baby animals.

Levi brought the mama into the barn stall when he noticed she seemed to be having a bit of trouble. The horses all hang their heads out when we come in, saying hello and seemingly equally excited about the newest addition to the ranch. Levi barely says a word as he leads me to a stall at the end and helps me inside. The mama cow is already harnessed up and attached to the side to make sure she doesn’t bang us around. She shifts uncomfortably when we enter but when she recognizes us, she calms. I pat her on the hip.

“I told you it’ll be any day now, Winnie the Moo,” I tell her, grinning.

Levi levels his gaze on me and though it’s late, he still looks just as delectable as usual. “You named the cow Winnie the Moo?”

“Of course I did,” I reason, petting her. “She likes her apples green and her hay soft. Also, when you rub her ears, she makes a sound like Pooh Bear laughing.”

He blinks at me in disbelief, but shakes his head and turns back to Winnie.

“Mostly, we’re only here to help if things seem to be going wrong,” he instructs, gesturing for me to stand off to the side. “She should know how things go, but we’re gonna have to help her.”

I watch, wide eyed, as the mama shifts uncomfortably, mooing and shuffling back and forth. She shakes her head as if distressed, and I glance at Levi worriedly.

“She doesn’t seem calm,” I comment.

“I’d imagine pregnancy isn’t something to be calm about,” he grunts. “Contractions are usually painful.”

“Right,” I murmur, worried. “Can I touch her while she’s pushing?”

“She probably won’t let you,” he answers.

But I’ve long since learned how to talk to all the animals without them viewing me as a threat and Winnie already trusts me. “That’s it,” I coo, coming up to stroke my hand along her side. “That’s a good mama, Winnie. You’re doing so good. You’re gonna push this baby out and then we’ll celebrate with a nice, juicy apple.”

The cow immediately starts shaking her head back and forth before focusing on me.

“Kate,” Levi warns. If she decides she doesn’t want me near her, she could crush me against the side of the stall before I have a chance to move so I understand his distrust. I, however, trust her fully. I’m not distressing her. She’s just in pain.

“It’s okay,” I say both to her and to Levi. “It’s gonna be okay. We just need you to do the birthing thing. Should I tell you to push? Is that the same for cows as it is for people?”

I just keep talking to her, trying to keep her calm, knowing this is my role. I don’t know how long it takes. I only know that I need to keep her reasonably calm. When she begins to push, Levi makes a sound of relief and pats her on the hips. But almost immediately, his relief vanishes.

Levi frowns. “It’s starting to take too long. She’s not breaching like she should. I was worried about this when I saw her prancing out in the pasture.”

“What do we do?” I ask, my eyes wide. “Call a vet?”

Levi shakes his head. “I’ve been trained in calving from a vet. We’re gonna help her along is all.”

I raise my brows but I only nod. “What do I do?”

“Keep her calm,” he says, meeting my eyes. “You’re doing a good job with that.”

I nod and continue to stroke her back, murmuring to her as Levi takes up position behind her. He pulls on long gloves that go up to his shoulder and nods to me.

“I’m going to reach in and see if I can check the position of the calf,” he advises. “Try and keep her from kicking me.”

I grimace. “No promises,” I answer, but continue to talk her through it. She moos when Levi does whatever it is he’s doing, and when he curses under his breath, she shifts on her feet. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“It feels like the calf’s head is turned back,” he rasps. “He’s gonna come out back legs first. I’m gonna straighten ‘em out and then we’re gonna have to move fast. Every minute in there is a minute the calf can’t breathe.”

Panic fills me. The calf can’t breathe? That sounds fucking serious. I consider mentioning the vet again, but Levi seems to know what he’s doing as he starts to move with a little more urgency.

Whatever he does, Winnie doesn’t like it. I do my best to calm her down, to keep talking her through it. She doesn’t kick at Levi, so I assume I’m doing an okay job, but it takes a whole lot of self-restraint not to let my panic infect her.

“Okay. Hand me that calving chain,” Levi instructs, pointing to a chain hanging on the wall. I do as he says, and he moves around again. “When she pushes, I’m going to pull. Let’s see if we can get this calf out of there.”

“Okay, mama,” I tell Winnie, patting her side. “We’re going to get that baby on out of there. I’m gonna need you to push.”

“She’s pushing,” Levi grunts, and pulls gently. “I see the hooves.”

“That’s a good girl!” I coo. “You’ve got this, mama. Push some more.”

“Here he comes,” Levi grunts as he helps her work the calf out. “I see the head. Here he?—”

Levi’s words cut off abruptly and I look at him sharply. “What?” I ask. “What is it?” When he doesn’t answer me, I snap, “Levi?”

His eyes meet mine. “Let me get him breathing first.” He works at the calf but from my position, I can’t see it. I don’t move from where I’m comforting Winnie, because if she kicks right now, she’ll get Levi and her baby. She prances, but doesn’t seem too distressed except for wanting to see her baby.

“Okay,” Levi murmurs. “Okay, he’s. . . breathing.”

Only once Levi deems it okay, I pat the cow and unhook her harness from the wall. She immediately turns to take in her baby. I can’t see it as she leans down to lick at it, only a glimpse of the adorable spindly legs.

Levi pulls his gloves off, a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my own face pulling into a frown. “Is the calf okay?” When he doesn’t answer, I ask again, harsher. “Levi, is the calf okay?”

He meets my eyes and something in there wipes away the excitement I feel. “Why don’t you take a look, Kate.”

I move around Winnie, my heart beating hard in my chest. I see the back of the calf, and then the body. It’s only as I move around fully that I see it. I cover my mouth in surprise as I take in the calf Winnie works to clean up.

The calf looks normal mostly, until you look at its face. There’s not just one there. There’s two. Fused together like Siamese twins, but there’s only one body. The calf is moving though, gently nosing at his mama with what I assume is its dominant face.

Levi pats the mama on her shoulder. “Sorry, mama,” he tells her as she gently sniffs at her baby. “Not this time.”

“What do you mean?” I cry, looking at him. “He’s alive.”

“He won’t live long,” Levi says sadly. “They never do. It’s best to put it out of its misery now.”

“What? No!” I cry, moving to step in front of the calf where the mama still cleans it, clearly uncaring if her calf is some sort of anomaly. “He’s fine! He’s alive!”

Levi sighs. “Kate, things work differently out here. That calf won’t live past a few days at most. He’ll be lucky to last through the night.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do!” he growls, running his hand down the mama’s hide. “I do know that. It’s my job to know that. We can’t save it, Kate.”

The mama still nuzzles her baby, and the calf makes a soft strange bleating sound. “Give him a chance,” I croak.

“He’s going to die, Kate,” Levi says angrily. “Mother nature made a mistake. It happens sometimes?—”

“Give him a chance!” I shout, desperate, my heart breaking for the mama. “She wants him. She’s taking care of him!”

Levi’s face hardens. “I’m not going to watch it die.”

“You don’t have to,” I say, lifting my chin. “I’ll stay with them. I’ll take care of them.”

He scowls, but there’s sadness in his eyes, too. I get it he knows what’s going to happen, but Winnie deserves time to love her baby. She deserves that.

“I’ll take care of them,” I repeat, my eyes welling. “Please. Just give them a chance.”

“Fine,” Levi rasps. “But take them out in the pasture. I have to clean up in here.”

So I do. We wait until the calf is able to get to its feet, until it unsteadily tries to move toward the mama, before I step in to help. He’s top heavy and has a hard time, but once the mama is let out, he follows on unsteady feet. We don’t go far, just outside the barn, and when the calf tries to drink milk, it’s an awkward and difficult task. Eventually, we make it work and then the mama finds a soft patch of grass to lie down on. The calf nestles against her side and collapses there, so I settle against her side and let the calf lay its two heads on my lap.

At least we’re beneath the stars. At least this baby will know his mother’s love and the stars above him. He’ll get to see twice as many stars as I do. My tears drip down my cheeks as I pet both of them, as the mama wraps her head around me until her nose touches her baby’s, as she rests. Soon, she’ll have to mourn this baby, if Levi is to be believed, but for now, she’s a mother, and she’s content.

I focus on the stars, my heart breaking for them, knowing that Levi is probably right. Still, I don’t want to accept it. I don’t want to think about us making that decision when he could have had a chance.

Levi appears a little while later, a blanket in his hands, his head hanging down. I didn’t even realize I was cold until he appeared, so wrapped up in the cows currently resting against me.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, his eyes sad. “Can I join you?”

I nod and make room for him against the cow, shuffling just enough. Winnie makes a sound of annoyance, but happily moves to rest her head on him instead. He settles back and covers us with the blanket before holding me against him. He pets the sleeping calf almost absentmindedly, his frown still on his face.

“I didn’t mean to sound cruel—” he begins.

“I understand,” I whisper. “But I couldn’t let her not have the chance to at least know her baby. She deserves that.”

He studies me, his eyes taking in my tear-streaked cheeks. He reaches up with his other hand and wipes them away, almost reverently. “He’ll remember you,” he says. “And she will, too. They’ll remember your kindness. People don’t realize how smart cows can be.” He tilts his head back. “At least he’ll know that kindness.”

Together, we lie there, until I fall asleep, the calf laying its two heads in my lap, the mama resting after a difficult birth. Levi must fall asleep at some point, too, his head resting back against Winnie when I wake up with an ache in my hip a little while later and shift closer to him. It isn’t until the first rays of the sun crest the horizon that I realize we’d stayed out all night, the light hitting my face. I jerk awake and look down at the very heavy weight on my thighs as I try to rub the sleep from my eyes.

My heart stops.

“Levi,” I croak, tears springing to my eyes. “Levi, wake up.”

He stirs and looks down at the same sight I see and immediately pulls me against him as I start to cry.

At least he got to see the stars.

When Winnie stands and realizes what’s happened, her bawls of pain destroy me until I can’t walk. Levi has to lift me into his arms and carry me back to the cabin. I cry the entire way and Winnie’s sounds follow me inside. I’ll never forget the sound.

I’ll never forget her pain.

But at least he got to know his mother’s love and the stars.

At least he got that. . .