Page 19 of Pick Me
“What?” I demanded.
“Good grief,” Helena groaned. “Excuse me, boys. I need to see this.” She pushed her way through the crowd to the dance floor before I could catch her.
“What song is this?” I demanded. “Is it cringey?”
“How do you not know this song?” Knox darted a distracted glance at me before searching the dance floor over the heads of the crowd, probably trying to spot Webb. “It’s… it’s required knowledge, Goodman. It should have been in your history book.”
I shook my head slowly. “You’re a strange man. In the past fifteen days, the only two things you’ve felt true passion for are the location of my coffee mug and this song.”
“Not true.” Knox flushed. “Definitely not true.” He stood on his tiptoes. “Now, hush. I’m trying to watch Webb so I can mock him relentlessly later.”
As a man with a bunch of brothers, I understood this, even if I thought it was ridiculous that he needed me to be silent in order for him tosee. As a man who’d spent more than two weeks trying to have a civil conversation with Knox Sunday, I had no idea where this level of friendly adorableness was coming from. I literally hadn’t known whether Knox—this version of Knox that had replaced the guy in the picture—had it in him.
“Knox!” Hawk hurried over, looking worried. “You and Webb aren’t answering your messages.”
“Huh?” Knox turned away from the dance floor and dug out his phone. “What’s going on? Shit. Four missed calls from Drew? Is Aiden okay? Is Drew?”
“Yes,” Hawk said firmly. “Everyone’s okay. Breathe. Murray got a little banged up, but he’s fine, too.”
I frowned. I was pretty sure Murray was the redhead who helped out with chores around the property part-time. I’d met most of the farm crew and the seasonal workers only once or twice, since they tended to work outdoors and be gone by supper.
“Banged up how?” Knox demanded. “I made sure the equipment was all put up for the night and the store was locked before I left. All he had to do was milk Pattie and Muriel, put the milk in the cold room fridge, and check Stella for signs of labor. Did Pattie kick him?”
“Nah.” Hawk shook his head. “Stella got him.”
“Stella?” Knox sounded confused. “But—”
I full-on gasped. “Stella’s gone rogue! Holy shit.Holy. Shit. I fucking knew it. It’s okay, you guys. I’ve been training my whole life for this. I’m gonna need some soap on a rope and a roll of aluminum foil to—”
“Shush,” Hawk chided, nudging my arm. “When Murray went to check her, he saw her water bag emerging. Because she’s almost ready to deliver,” he explained when I stared at him blankly.“Deliverher calf,” he added when I kept staring.
Ohhh.
“So Murray took out his phone to call Webb, but the field was all muddy from the rain earlier. Stella side-shuffled, Murray slipped, she head-butted him, then shouldered him into the wooden fence, and he went down hard. He’s okay,” Hawk reiterated. “Sitting in the kitchen with Drew and Marco, eating leftover plum tart. But he’s never helped during calving before. Drew can’t really get out there on his ankle, let alone help pull a calf if Stella needs help, and Marco says he’s allergic to unhygienic tasks, so they need reinforcements.”
“Oh.” Knox straightened. “Yeah, I can handle that. Did Drew call Dr. Reemer? I don’t have her number.”
“No. Webb doesn’t call the vet in usually. He says it’s an unnecessary expense since the cows don’t need it most of the time.” Hawk hesitated. “He has it down to a science. I’d go myself, but Mrs. Hendelmann cornered me, and I promised I’d stay and help the cleanup crew. Maybe I should go get Webb—”
“Webb’s busy.” Knox tilted his head toward the dance floor. “So we’ll do it the Knox way—” He held up a hand to forestall argument. “I’ll get the job done.” He glanced at me. “And Goodman will come with me.”
I huffed out a slightly panicked laugh. “Goodman will go with you? What Goodman?ThisGoodman? Nooo. No way. For what possible reason would I put myself in the path of a cow on purpose? Knox, seriously. It’s probably hard to tell from my blinding smile and myjoie de vivre, but I’m actually a fairly risk-averse, realistic person—”
“Call Drew,” Knox repeated to Hawk, ignoring my protests.
Hawk nodded. “On it.”
“Come on, Goodman. I needed to talk to you anyway.” Knox wrapped one big, warm hand around the back of my neck and squeezed gently, and I sucked in a shocked breath I couldn’t quite hide. Then he led me out of the gym and into the big Sunday Orchard pickup.
* * *
And that was how I came to spend my eveningnotfinding a hookup but instead sitting on a metal rail inside the Sundays’ cow barn, watching the miracle of life happen right in front of me.
Sadly, the beauty and majesty of my fuck-me jeans were entirely lost on my companions in this endeavor. Knox wouldn’t have noticed if I’d been wearing a cancan dress and fishnets just on principle. Uncle Drew was busy trying to stay upright on his crutches. Marco was busy muttering baleful warnings about how Drew’s FOMO would lead him to break his other ankle. Murray the Farm Chore Guy was too young and too incredibly straight to appreciate my pants. And Wendy Reemer, the vet, was too busy using a device called a calf-jack on Stella, who had a condition called dystocia and needed Wendy to help “pull” her calf. She swore this process didn’t hurt Stella or the monster calf baby, but judging by the cow’s pissed-off expression, Stella would be staying away from the vetandfrom smooth-talking bulls for the foreseeable future.
The whole experience had been simultaneously miraculous and horrifying—maybe a little heavier on the horrifying—and even a half hour later, after the vet had left for her next emergency and Knox had driven Murray home just to be sure he was okay, I was still kinda stunned.
“They say zombie movies are gory.” I wrinkled my nose as Stella licked a bunch of viscous yuck juice from her calf’s coat. “Resident Evil’s got nothing on this.”
