Page 78 of Crashing the Altar
“How can I help?”
With each passing minute, I grew more alert. When I sat up in bed, Penny stirred beside me, rolling over, but thankfully, she remained asleep.
“I left messages for all the vets in the area, but no one’s gotten back to me yet. We could really use Penny’s help.” He sighed. “I know it’s askin’ a lot, and you’re a ways out, but I’m fresh outta options.”
They were an hour away. If I pushed it with no one on the roads at this hour, I could get there in forty-five.
It might not be soon enough to save the heifer in trouble, but I knew Penny would want to give it a shot.
“We’re on our way.”
Colt’s relief was audible. “Appreciate it.”
The line went dead. There wasn’t time to waste.
Hating the idea of waking my pregnant wife even though it was necessary, I gently nudged her, whispering, “Sweetheart, there’s an emergency. I need you to get up. We have to go.”
Chapter 20
Penny
Sleepseemedlikeadistant memory as my mind raced, eyes fixed on where the pickup’s headlights illuminated the red dirt road ahead.
“How long did he say it’s been since the prolapse?” Facts were my friends as I began to build a treatment plan that would likely fly right out the window once my boots hit the ground and I had the chance to thoroughly examine the extent of the damage.
“He didn’t. But from the sounds of it, they have no idea how long the heifer was laboring before they found her.”
“That’s not what I want to hear,” I muttered.
“Maybe not, but that’s the situation as I know it.”
My head dropped back against the seat, and I attempted to pull in a calming breath. Attempted being the operative word because it did nothing to settle my nerves.
“Sorry. Just worried she’s gonna bleed out before we get there.” That was the biggest risk—that tension on the uterine vessels caused by the prolapse would cause a fatal rupture.
A warm palm landed on my thigh and squeezed. “You’re gonna do what you can and not stress the rest, you hear me?”
“Haven’t worked on a cow like this since my vet training,” I admitted.
“Is it different than working with a mare with the same issue?”
“Not much.”
I shifted in my seat. The jeans I’d lost a wrestling match with only yesterday were barely being held closed by a hair tie affixed to the button, and it felt like my tiny bump was being strangled.
Pushing my discomfort aside, I fixed my focus on the poor animal in need of my help. But so help me God, when I was done, I was burning these pants-turned-torture-device.
Colt’s oldest brother, Emmett, flagged us down at the gate and led us to where several trucks were parked near the cow in distress.
Hopping down from the passenger seat the minute the pickup came to a stop, I rushed forward, counting on Tripp to grab the bag of medical supplies I’d packed.
“Hey, Penny. Thanks for coming out,” Colt greeted me, exhaustion etched on his face.
“Sure thing.” I gripped his forearm. “Could you do me a favor and have all these trucks form a circle with their headlights pointed in this direction?” With the sun not due to rise for a few hours, I needed as much illumination as possible.
“You got it.” He turned on his heel and began barking ordersat the men gathered.
Stepping closer to the large animal whose labored breathing hurt my heart, I knelt at her rear end, murmuring, “Oh, you poor thing.”
