Page 39 of Till The Cows Come Home
“This is so ridiculous. We’re ridiculous.” She laughed, wiping away the moisture that had settled on her cheeks. “Hundreds of calves have been bottle fed in this barn and moved to buckets without the blink of the eye.”
“Hundreds of calves didn’t bring me to you.”
“Remember when I said your charm wouldn’t get you anywhere in life?” she asked, looking up at me with her big blue eyes.
“I believe you specifically said that my charm would get me nowhere near you,” I teased, leaning down to meet her lips, stopping right before contact.
“I lied,” she whispered.
Before our lips could meet, Blossom tugged the lead rope,dragging Sage to the feed bins where the powdered milk replacer was stored.
“You little brat, you’re supposed to wait until it’s actually mixed with water.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of Sage dragging Blossom to the older calves’ pen, graduation cap still somehow affixed to the top of her head. I knew better than to intervene, deciding instead to help with the gate. Sage held onto Blossom, reluctant to let go, but just when I thought she was going to turn around and lead her back to her stall, she reached out, moving the tassel to the right.
“You’re a big girl now. Go be with your friends,” she mumbled into Blossom's snout, kissing it briefly before removing the makeshift hat and turning her loose.
“Let's feed them before she organizes a mutiny,” I joked.
Laughing through more tears, Sage followed me, scooping powder into each bucket while I followed behind, mixing in the warm water. As we hung the buckets, each calf lined up, but Blossom hovered, unsure. Stopping myself from explaining a situation I’m sure Sage had seen a million times, I stepped back, allowing her to take the lead, and just as I suspected, without missing a single beat, Sage stepped forward, hand outstretched. Blossom immediately approached her, and when Sage wiggled her fingers the calf instinctively took them in her mouth, suckling. Slowly, Sage lowered her hand into the bucket and when Blossom's nose touched the milk replacer, she let go of the fingers, slurping instead from the bucket.
“Works every time,” she mumbled, scratching each calf’s head. When she spun around, she noticed my slightly enamored gaze fixed on her.
“What?”
“You’re extraordinary.”
Closing the distance between us, I wrapped my armsaround her waist, pulling her until her body was against my own.
“Because I let a cow suck on my fingers?”
“Don’t do that,” I warned.
“Do what?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t work your ass off to learn everything you know. Yes, you’re extraordinary because you let a cow suck your fingers. Because of that knowledge, she's no longer hungry. Not every farmer cares enough to take the time, some just let them figure it out on their own. They appreciate your kindness and so do I.”
“It’s so hard to act like it was all worth it when I spent the last three years telling myself the opposite.”
“You did what you had to to keep your head above water, but you don’t have to do that anymore. Not with me.”
She didn’t respond, and a few moments passed by before she stepped forward, grabbing a bucket from in front of us. She planted it in front of me and before I could process what was happening, she stepped up, grabbing each side of my face before clashing her lips into mine. Every moment that passed was another unexpressed thought being passed through her touch.
I’m scared.I don’t want to lose this.What if I fail?
I felt all these unsaid proclamations, and met them with tenderness, attempting to pass on a message of my own.
You can do anything.
The frenzied embrace slowed, calmness replacing the panic, until eventually she pulled away.
“Thank you,” she whispered, resting her forehead against my own.
Still eye level, I reached out, tucking an unruly curl that had escaped her ponytail.
“I like your bucket.”
Rolling her eyes, she stepped down.
