Hunter walked over to her. “I’d help you up, but…”

He lifted his slimy, glove-covered hands and she crinkled her nose. “No thanks.” She stood and followed him to a large sink behind the stable. They took turns washing their hands.

“So what did you think of that?” Hunter asked.

“It was the most fascinating, scary, exciting thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to write about it.”

Hunter handed her a towel. “You’re right. Itisall those things. I’d forgotten.”

“How could you forget that?”

Hunter shrugged. “Seeing a calf born isn’t a new thing for me. Happens pretty often around here. I guess I’ve let the wonder of the moment slip away. You just gave it back to me.”

Annie smiled, pleased. Hunter was clearly born to the right place, the right time. It was a concept she’d considered a lot lately. She’d never felt like she fit in her family, her home. Annie wished there was someplace where she could feel a sense of belonging. She envied Hunter that. He belonged on Farpoint Creek.

“Hey, boss,” Marc called from the shed. “I think we’ve got a problem.”

Annie’s heart dropped. “Prince.”

They rushed back into the stable. The mother had risen and was standing in a corner, away from her new baby.

“She’s rejecting it,” Hunter said.

“What’s that mean?”

Hunter shrugged. “Just what it sounds like.”

Marc was in the process of cleaning the calf. “Ordinarily the mother will do this, but she’s not feeling too kindly toward the little thing right now.”

Hunter sighed. “Dylan would push this issue, right?”

Marc nodded. “I can tie her up, pen her in with Prince, but she’s pretty anxious right now. I’d hate to see her hurt the calf.”

Hunter was quiet for a few minutes as he watched the mother. “Get a bottle, Marc. We can feed Prince that way until the mother calms down a bit.”

Marc’s face cleared and Annie knew he approved of Hunter’s decision.

“Is this normal?” she asked.

Hunter grasped her hand, tugging her close enough that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders. She’d never been with a man who held her hand, hugged and kissed her so often. It was as if he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Annie liked it. A lot.

“It’s not unheard of in difficult births. Or even easy ones, for that matter. There are ways to get the mother to accept the baby, but I think we’ll give them both a rest for right now.”

Marc came back with a large bottle. Hunter handed it to Annie. “You want to feed Prince while Marc and I get some clean straw for that stall? Our little calf and his mother are going to stay in here for a few days.”

Annie took the bottle and looked at the newborn calf. “Um. Okay. Sure.” She sat next to the baby and coaxed him to suck on the bottle.

Hunter ruffled Annie’s hair. “You’re a born jillaroo.”

She snorted. “Did you just make that word up?”

Hunter shook his head. “Nope. It’s a real one. Means you were born to work on a station. What you Americans call a ranch hand. But a girl one. A jackaroo is a bloke. A jillaroo is…well, you get the drift.”

Hunter and Marc left her alone in the stable with Prince. As the calf suckled, Annie sighed contentedly. She could see the appeal of this lifestyle. It was peaceful at Farpoint. No horns blaring, people yelling, construction work. No paparazzi following her, cameras flashing, phones ringing. Nothing but quiet, blissful silence.

She stroked the calf’s head. “You’ll be okay,” she murmured softly. “Your mommy’s just tired. She’s still here. She won’t leave you forever.” Annie swallowed hard against the lump forming in her throat. “And if she does, you’ll be okay because I’ll take care of you. I know what it’s like to lose a mother. I won’t let you feel lonely, okay, Prince?”

Hunter stood at the back door of the equipment shed and listened to Annie’s promise. She’d mentioned her mother’s desertion, acted like the event was nothing, no big deal. He saw through that act now. Annie felt her mother’s rejection deeply. Hunter longed to go to her, but he didn’t think she’d thank him for eavesdropping.