Page 73 of Home Hearts Hooves

“The new app is still right on with dates?”

“Yep,” he says, spinning the tablet around and showing me the table. It lists every cow we have in the herd by number and name, and he swipes up, scrolling through the list, and I see there are a bunch of green lines shaded, indicating good births. I spot the orange highlighted rows and Brutus’s name in the column of all listed as the bull.

“I guess we should discuss who we are trading in for Brutus? His success rate has been going down each year, and the calves he has fathered are getting bigger. I don’t think we should wait until we’re pulling every one of his, or we start losing calves.”

“I was thinking the same thing, but… I was also thinking we should try a new cross-breed.”

I sit down, careful not to bump my leg. It’s getting easier to shuffle around the house without the walking stick, and as long as I don’t do anything to make it worse. I reckon, I’ll be out of this thing early. But then if I am, that means my days helping Preston at the clinic are over, too. Maybe I will do the full six weeks?

“Is that a good idea?” I ask. Brutus was a good producer. We’ve got two of his bull calves out in their own pastures we kept for this exact reason. I’d like to keep all the cattle born on Beaker Brothers, but even I know that isn’t practical, so we only keep the calves we need, and sell or trade the extras to neighboring farms.

“We’ve got a good enough sized herd that we’re thirty percent over our goal of milk production, so it’s probably the best time to experiment.”

“Why spoil a good thing, then?”

“Because we’re more than a dairy farm, we’re a ranch with a whole host of animals that people come to see.”

“Okay, now I’m thinking the new cross-breeding suggestion you’re proposing isn’t something I would be expecting.”

“You’d be thinking right. I was in the cuddle cove looking at the mini-Highlands, and thought maybe it was time we got a full-sized one?”

“Oh, umm, okay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, why not? They’re good milk producers. Maybe not as good in quantity but they’re known for a creamier yield, and would be great to add to the cuddle cove, Connor will love it.”

He stares at me, a frown on his forehead like I just spoke some foreign language. “What?” I ask.

“You’re just going to say yes without me having to convince you that I did all the numbers and cleared it with Gramps, and jump through a bazillion hoops, proving it’s a good idea?”

“I’m assuming if you’re asking, you did any checking you needed to. If you want a full-grown Highland, we can get a full-grown Highland. But don’t let Skye name it.”

“Ha, no. I’m naming this one.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, what is it going to be?”

“King,” he replies with a little bob of his head showing he at least thinks it’s a really good name.

I don’t hate it. After a while, you start running out of names, so just thinking up a name we haven’t used before is all I can really ask. The guys however like having names that match each animal’s personalities. Imagine if people were named like that. Like, what if we grew up with a placeholder, and then as our personalities evolved our names were chosen to fit? Nial would be more like a Gizmo, that gremlin thing that looks all cute and cuddly but is a firecracker on the inside. Preston actually fits his name, his last name anyway. Knight. He’s always out there saving animals like he’s their knight in shining armor.

“King’s a good name. Make it happen. I trust you,” I say, pushing up and shuffling to the door to head over to the clinic to help Preston. Soon I’ll be back here every day, so I have to take advantage of my injury while I can.

“You should get laid more often,” Nial calls after me, and I grab my hat, catching my smile in the hall mirror as I set it in place.

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

Chapter twenty-four

PRESTON

DO NO HARM BUT TAKE NO BULL

“Hi,Izz,Ihavesomething I need to talk to you about,” I say down the phone, leaning forward on the clinic counter. It’s been a week since the cinema under the stars, and I can’t keep putting this conversation off, not if I want something real with Dean. And I do. I really fucking do.

“Sure. Is it about Poppy’s birthday? Because you don’t have to worry, I have everything planned.”

“No, it’s about me. Umm, so you know I loved you, right?”

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