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  Inside, he stopped outside the stall. A black-and-white cow lay stretched out on the straw-covered floor, straining heavily. Her eyes looked wild and pained. Sympathy for her plight stabbed through him.

  Colby looked up at him, pulling supplies from her bag. “Ian, this is Harry Pasley. Harry, Ian McKinley. He’s new in town. My truck broke down, so he gave me a ride out here.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Harry said, his hands tucked inside bib overalls, his weathered face concerned.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” Ian said.

  “Would you like a pair of coveralls to put on over those clothes?”

  Ian looked down at his pants, the bottoms of which were now rimmed in mud. “Oh, no, that’s all right. It’ll come out in the wash.”

  Ian watched while Colby pulled on two plastic gloves that reached all the way to her shoulder.

  The cow’s straining ceased, and she lay still. “Is she okay?” he asked.

  “She’s taking a breather. Let’s see what we have here,” she said, reaching her right arm inside the cow. A few seconds passed before she said, “There’s the tail. Definitely a breech, Harry.”

  Ian watched as a frown crossed her face. “Uh-oh. There’s a nose,” she said. “We’ve got a second one on board.”

  Just then, the cow began straining again. Colby went still. She looked up at him and said, “When she’s working, I rest. When I’m working, she rests.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “Have you ever seen a delivery?” she asked.

  He’d never even been around a cow, and certainly not one in this condition. The closest he’d gotten was a city petting zoo, and that had been years ago, when Luke was five or six. “Ah, no, I haven’t. Is there something I can do?”

  “If she tries to get up,” Harry said, “I might need your help getting her back down.”

  “Sure,” Ian said, tempted to ask how they could possibly get what looked like an eight-hundred-pound cow to lie down if she decided to get up. But he didn’t, not wanting to sound like any more of a greenhorn than he felt.

  When the cow stopped straining again, Colby said, “Okay, my turn.”

  She wedged her left hand inside the cow and began to push forward. Without looking up, she said, “What I’ll try to do is push this little guy up enough that I can straighten his hind legs out. In a normal birth he would have come out front hooves first.”

  Ian watched in amazement as she slowly pushed the calf forward. As the cow began to strain again, she stopped and held the position. It was a long, slow process. He couldn’t take his eyes off the scene. He’d never witnessed anything like it in his life. Colby, up to her shoulders in work a lot of men wouldn’t have the fortitude to do.

  She approached the effort matter-of-factly, when she spoke, her voice low and soothing. He saw that she, too, sympathized with the cow’s pain.

  Her coveralls had been splattered with blood, and a strand of her hair clung to the side of her face. He subdued an unexpected urge to smooth it back for her.

  After what seemed like forever, she said, “Okay. I’ve got the back hooves out. We’re on the right track now.”

  Ian stood to the side of the cow, his arms folded across his chest, the drama of the situation making him tense. The process went on for a good while longer, with the cow pushing and Colby helping to pull the calf forward until it finally slid onto the straw in a heap.

  “There you go,” Colby said, smiling. “You were doing your best not to join us out here, weren’t you?”

  Harry picked up the calf and moved it close to its mother, placing it back on the straw. Wonder assaulted Ian. He thought about his own son’s birth and how incredible it had been to hold the tiny body in his arms. He recalled the instantaneous love he’d felt for him, and his chest ached with the memory of it and a yearning for things to be right with Luke again.

  “Let’s get the other one,” Colby said, reaching back inside the cow.

  When the second calf emerged onto the straw with Colby’s help, the same sense of wonder washed over him. This one was noticeably smaller, its eyes round and startled. Ian’s heart contracted.

  “Okay, girl. We’re almost there,” Colby said to the mother cow, looking up at Ian and adding, “I just need to make sure there’s not a third.”

  “She could have another one?” he asked, incredulous.

  “Oh, yes. I’ve had it happen.”

  Amazed, Ian hoped for the cow’s sake that it didn’t happen now.

  A minute or so later, Colby said, “Looks like that’s it.” She sat back on her heels and patted the cow’s side, her face alight with satisfaction and what looked like the same kind of relief he felt for the animal. “You’re all finished.”

  Ian bent down and stroked the cow’s head. He’d never really thought about it, but he would have imagined this sort of thing became routine for a veterinarian. But the look on Colby’s face suggested it was just as gratifying to her now as it would have been the first time she’d helped with a delivery.

  The second calf raised its head and let out a halfhearted bleat. Colby laughed. “Looks like she arrived with an appetite.”

  Harry Pasley bent over to give the cow a pat on the side. “You did good, girl. You, too, Doc. But then you always do.”

  The cow weakly reached around to swipe the closest calf with her tongue. If the birth of the first one amazed Ian, the second seemed like a miracle.

  “These three have some bonding to do.” Colby wiped her damp forehead on her shoulder, then looked up at Ian and smiled. “Thanks for being so patient.”

  Ian didn’t remember a smile ever affecting him quite the way hers did in that moment. He’d witnessed something incredibly special. He thought of the business he’d put his life into over the past seventeen years and couldn’t remember one incident during that time that made him feel this way.

  Crazy but true.

  And he had no idea what to make of that.

  12

  Colby finished cleaning Tilly up and gave her a shot to fight off infection. “Let me know if they have any problems, Harry.”

  “I’ll do that, Doc. Thank you for coming out so late. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” She pulled a fresh pair of coveralls from her bag and said, “May I use your office to get into these?”

  “Sure thing,” Harry said.

  Alone, Colby wondered what Ian thought of being here. It couldn’t have been his cup of tea, but throughout the past few hours, she’d been surprised by the range of emotions she’d seen on his face: sympathy, interest, amazement. After she’d changed, she left the office and returned to the stall, where Harry still stood. “Good night,” she said. “Call me if you need me.”

  “Night, Doc Williams,” Harry said. “Thanks again.”

  Outside, Colby found Ian staring up at the night sky. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, coming up behind him and glancing at her watch. “It’s after midnight. I didn’t realize it was that late.”

  He turned around, his gaze finding hers. “I’m in no hurry. How did you do that?” he asked, pointing at the coveralls.

  “I keep an extra pair in my bag. You don’t want me riding in your car with the other ones on,” she said.

  “It wouldn’t have mattered,” he said, shrugging.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind taking me home? I could ask Harry—”

  “Of course not,” Ian said. “Come on, get in. You’re probably tired after all that work.”

  Giving in, she got inside the car and gave him directions to her house.

  He put the car in reverse and backed up, cutting the wheel to the right.

  “I wouldn’t turn around in the driveway if I were—” Before she could finish, the two back tires dropped off the gravel. “Uh-oh. I should have mentioned the mud back there. You can’t see it in the dark.”

  “Shouldn’t be any problem.” He pushed the gas. The back wheels made a whirr-hissing sound, spinning uselessly.
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br />   “I’ll go get Harry,” Colby offered. “He’ll give us a pull with his tractor.”

  “That’s okay,” Ian said, opening the car door.

  “Watch out!” she warned just as he slid out and mired up to his shins in mud.

  Silhouetted in the light shining from the car’s interior, he looked at the ground where his two feet were currently held prisoner. He pulled one free, then the other. They made a loud, sucking noise.

  Laughter bubbled up in Colby’s throat. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stop it, but failed miserably.

  Ian ducked his head back inside, chagrined. “Guess I should have taken Mr. Pasley up on those coveralls, huh?”

  She did her best to keep a straight face, but the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes gave her away.

  “Can you slip across and get behind the wheel? I don’t recommend getting out.”

  “Sure.” Colby’s cheeks hurt with the effort of trying not to laugh.

  He made his way to the back of the car, mud slurping at his shoes with each step. “I’ll let you know when I start to push,” he called out. “Give it the gas when I say go.”

  “Okay.”

  She adjusted the seat so her feet reached the pedals. A few seconds later, he said, “All right. Hit it.”

  She pushed the pedal. The car groaned and protested, the back tires whirring again.

  She stopped, and he called out, “One more time.”

  They repeated the process, only this time the tires spun once, then the car shot out of the mud like a launched rocket.

  Back on the gravel, Colby parked and got out.

  Harry came out. “What happened?”

  “We got stuck,” she said.

  “I’d have pulled you out.”

  “It only took two pushes,” she began, and then stopped when Ian stepped back into the light shining from the barn.

  She stared at him in disbelief. “Oh, no!”

  “It kind of splattered,” he said, wiping a hand across the side of his mud-covered face.

  Harry chuckled. “I’ll say.”

  Colby couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer. The sophisticated New Yorker beside whom she’d sat at dinner earlier that evening now stood covered in mud, head to toe. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to stop. “It’s not funny. Really. It isn’t.”

  “No, actually, it kind of is,” he said, his smile broader now.

  “How about those coveralls?” Harry offered. “I’ve got a hose inside if you’d like to rinse off.”

  “I think I’ll take you up on them this time,” Ian said, disappearing inside the barn with a grinning Harry.

  Colby waited outside, drying her eyes with the back of her hand. At least the man had a sense of humor. She thought about Doug and the comparisons she had made between the two. When she and Doug started dating, she brought him home one weekend to meet her parents. She’d taken him out to the Bower farm, where she’d worked part time in high school, doing odd jobs. She tried to teach Doug how to milk one of the cows, and when he’d been less than gentle at the task, the cow planted a hind hoof beneath his chin. From then on, Doug did a poor job of hiding his eagerness to leave Keeling Creek. She’d often thought that was the point at which she should have seen they had no future. The Doug she had known would not have laughed about what happened here tonight.

  Harry and Ian reappeared. Ian wore a pair of old blue coveralls that would have sold Today’s Farmer a record number of copies had he been wearing them on one of their covers.

  He had apparently taken Harry up on the use of his hose, too. His hair was wet, the mud no longer evident on his face and hands.

  “Sure you trust me to drive you home?” he asked with a sheepish grin.

  “Of course,” she said.

  Shaking his head, Harry waved goodnight and went back inside.

  Ian threw his discarded clothes in the trunk, and they both got into the car. Their gazes caught and held for a second before they started laughing again.

  When she finally stopped, Colby wiped her eyes and said, “I’m really sorry about all this.”

  “Hey, it’s not your fault. I’m the one who backed into the mud and then insisted on playing Superman.”

  She chuckled again. “Yeah, but I should have warned you.”

  “I’m a little bit like Smidge. I might have to bumble my way through a few mishaps before I get the hang of country life.”

  “That could have happened to anyone.”

  “Right,” he said, looking skeptical. “Thanks for trying to save my pride, but I already left it in tatters back there in the barnyard.”

  Colby smiled. “You’ve been a good sport tonight.”

  “You’re the one who did all the work,” he said as they headed down the driveway. “That was pretty amazing in there. Are twins uncommon?”

  “Not really. With the hormones they’re giving the cows these days, the odds are increased. Unfortunately, the little girl will probably be sterile. She won’t be of much use to Harry.”

  Ian frowned. “Meaning?”

  “He’ll sell her to the stockyard.”

  “Oh. That’s too bad,” he said, sounding more than a little bothered by the thought.

  “That’s one part of my job I don’t think I’ll ever get used to. Farming is a business. Feed costs money.”

  He stayed quiet for a moment and then said, “You were great in there.”

  The offhand compliment pleased her. “Thanks. So, you’d never seen anything like that?”

  He shot her a sideways smile. “City born and bred. We don’t have too many cows in Manhattan.”

  “How did you end up in Keeling Creek?”

  “I had a realtor looking in this part of the state.”

  “It’s a long way from New York. In more ways than one.”

  “I think I pretty much found that out tonight.”

  Colby turned her gaze back to the road. It had been a strange night, yet she felt more relaxed than she had in ages. She couldn’t remember the last time she laughed so much. Even if it had been at Ian’s expense, she had the impression he really hadn’t minded. Although she wouldn’t admit it to Phoebe in a million years, she actually enjoyed his company.

  Ian swung the vehicle into her driveway, braking to a stop just short of the light from the porch. Colby reached into the back seat for her bag, then said, “Well, thank you for the ride. And for waiting around for me. I’m really sorry about the mud.”

  “No problem. I actually learned a few things tonight. If you need any help getting your truck—”

  “Oh, no. Thanks. I’ll get a tow truck out there tomorrow. You’ve already gone way beyond the call of duty for someone duped by the local matchmakers.”

  Ian smiled, and Colby noticed that he had a memorable one. The kind that reaches the eyes and transforms them.

  They studied each other for a second too long, saying nothing in a moment of unexpected awareness. Colby looked away first, climbing out of the car and ducking back to say, “Well, thanks again. Good night.”

  “Good night,” he said, then waved and drove away.

  Colby watched his taillights disappear down the street, surprised to find herself sorry that the evening had ended.

  13

  Ian had been on the phone with Curtis Morgan for a full two hours on Saturday morning when the other man finally said, “Well, that should bring you up to date on the past few days, anyway.”

  “Thanks, Curtis. Sounds like things are pretty crazy around there.”

  “Are they ever any other way?” Curtis asked, a smile in his voice. “I still can’t believe you walked away from all this. Aren’t you missing this place?”

  “It’s only till the end of the school year,” Ian said, strangely unable to say that he missed it. So far, he didn’t at all. But then he’d been overdue for a vacation. He’d be missing it before long.

  “A year must seem like forever in a place like that. Not a whole lot going on, I’ll bet
. Not when you’re used to the life you led here.”

  “It’s different, that’s for sure.”

  “You deserve a father-of-the-year award for what you’re doing.”

  Ian disagreed with his friend. Judging from his success with Luke so far, that was the last thing he would qualify for. The two of them talked on for a while longer before Ian hung up.

  Even though he’d taken official leave, he felt obligated to keep himself apprised of what was going on. He turned his attention to the computer screen, checking stock prices.

  He glanced out the window to the side of his desk. The huge old maple tree had begun to absorb the tint of fall. The view here won hands down. A lot more peaceful, too. For now, at least, he would let himself enjoy that. Soon enough, he’d be back in the city where the trees were rare and the noise omnipresent.

  He glanced at his watch as the sun stretched full tilt across the room. Nearly noon. Rachel would arrive any minute. The trip had been planned since before he’d moved here, but he almost wished she weren’t coming now. Why was that when he hadn’t seen her in three weeks?

  Ian turned his chair toward the window again and thought about Colby Williams. No doubt she’d considered him a first-class buffoon last night. He couldn’t have looked any more convincing as an outsider had he been trying for an Academy Award.

  After he’d dropped her off, he’d driven home, wondering why he never got around to telling her about his engagement. Some part of him had been intrigued by her. And he had enjoyed himself more than he had in a long time.

  The doorbell rang, interrupting his thoughts. Ian left his study and went out into the front hall. Rachel stood on the porch, dressed in black pants and a red silk blouse, looking as out of place in the countryside as a polar bear in Arizona.

  “Ian.” She stepped forward and put her arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you.”

  She pressed her lips against his and kissed him with intent. He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her to him, seeking a connection that would put him back on track. Her perfume smelled familiar, as did the feel of her, and he told himself he had done the right thing in asking her to marry him. Rachel was part of his real life, the life he’d created here just temporary. Rachel represented all the things he would go back to when the year ended. And go back, he would.