I brought out two plates stacked with four sandwiches and another little tray I’d found in the kitchen in my other hand holding two steaming cups of coffee.
Reece met me at the door and took the tray from me.
“Any change with mom and baby?” I asked as he set the tray down on a little outdoor table set up on the porch. He’d switched the flashlight to its lamp setting and put it down in the center of the table. I put the sandwiches down and pulled out the second plate from underneath the first, then portioned out the sandwiches.
Reece had indeed cleaned up, with water and soap from the barn or somewhere else, because while his clothes were still filthy, his hands were clean.
He didn’t waste any time biting into the sandwich, shoving almost half of it into his mouth at once.
“No change,” he said. At least that’s what I think he said. His mouth was so full of sandwich, I could only guess. But when I looked out at the pasture beside the barn, I could see the heifer was still at a distance from where we’d left the calf. She was near the gate, like all she could think about was getting back to the wide open field.
“What’s wrong with her? Why won’t she go to her baby?” I asked before taking a bite of my own sandwich. I closed my eyes with the bite. They’d had lettuce and tomatoes, and the fresh ingredients tasted like absolute heaven after so many days of road junk food and then today of absolutely nothing. I wanted to do exactly what Reece had and shove the whole damn thing in my mouth. Instead I just chewed quickly so I could get to the next bite, and the next.
I didn’t notice Reece was watching me until I realized there’d been silence and he was taking his time answering my question.
When I finally looked up at him, again feeling my cheeks heat, and our eyes met, he looked away and answered.
“She’s a first-time mom. That’s what makes a heifer different from a cow. Since she’s never done it before, it’s easier to get confused. Then with the difficult birth… I dunno, I guess she’s agitated.”
I nodded, trying to eat more slowly…but who was I kidding. I shoved the last few bites of food into my mouth and then started on the next sandwich, occasionally drinking some coffee and then eating more.
I swore a meal had never tasted better in my entire life. Not even those stupid high-dollar meals at the restaurants in San Francisco where Jeff liked to parade me around. I could never enjoy those dinners anyway. I was too busy being nervous about how Jeff would critique me later. Did I greet his friends the right way? Was I overly friendly with any of his friends? Was I not interested enough? Not that it mattered. No matter what I did, I inevitably did something that invited his wrath when we got home.
Sometimes he didn’t even wait until we got home. Jeff was more than happy to hit me while we were driving home if he was good and riled.
“Sorry, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“What?” I looked up at Reece. He was looking at me, and I realized he’d asked a question I hadn’t even heard.
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, sorry, I just spaced out. What did you ask?”
“Oh.” He’d finished both of his sandwiches and he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “I was just wondering if all your stuff was back in your car? You said you stalled on the road? Did you leave even like, your purse there?”
Oh. Right. Crap.
I reached for my coffee and took a big gulp. Shit. Too hot, too hot. I coughed and slammed the ceramic mug down on the table, waving my hand.
“Oh damn, are you okay?” Reece jumped up from his chair and I was even more embarrassed. “No, I’m fine,” I gasped. “Just…hot.”
“Here, let me get you some water.”
Then, just like that, he disappeared inside the house and came back with some water. So obviously it hadn’t been his dirtiness keeping him out earlier.
He returned with a glass of cool water and handed it over. I took it thankfully and took a long drink. “Thanks,” I croaked afterwards. Then I looked back out towards the cows. “Do you think it’s been twenty minutes yet?”
Reece let my not so smooth change of topic pass graciously, standing up. “Yeah, looks like she’s not gonna let the calf nurse. And we gotta get some colostrum into the little buddy.”
He did that thing where he rubbed his hand down the back of his neck, looked out at the dark ranch, then back at me.
“It’s late, and if you don’t have a place to stay for the night, I can’t imagine Ruth would mind you crashing here tonight. She pointed out some rooms for me and my brother. I can put you in mine. There’s a bunkhouse for ranch hands and I’ll stay out there for the night.”