Page 39 of Whiskey Weather
Gina wipes her brow with the backside of her glove and stands. “Yeah, she did. Try to get her standing once she warms up. And see if the cow will let her get some more colostrum before nightfall. If not, I picked up some more mix last week. Might still be in the back of the feed truck.”
I have no idea what any of that means. But I’m desperately curious to know. Their exchange of information is clearly familiar and easy to them, and their movements as they took care of what needed to be done were nearly automatic.
“It’s a girl?” I chime in shyly.
“Sure is.” Gina beams. “Izzy?”
I smile and extend my hand toward her through the maroon-colored panel that’s separating us. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Cole.”
She pulls off a glove, and our hands meet in a shake. “Mrs. Cole is my mother-in-law. Call me Gina,” she laughs.
“Okay.” I nod. “Gina.”
She places her hand back in her glove and looks between Ledger and I for a few beats. I see Ledger narrow his eyes at her, and she subtly shakes her head.
“There’s one more out there I’d like to bring in just in case. I’ll be back in a minute.” She exits the pen, latches the gate closed, and places her left foot in the stirrup of the saddle on her horse, who has been waiting patiently in the same spot since Gina got off.
“Do you need help getting them in?” Ledger asks.
“Nah, just get this other pen ready. It’s a small calf. I’ll carry him in if he doesn’t want to follow his mama.”
Ledger nods, then moves to get another heating lamp.
“Do you do this every time for the newborn calves?” I ask.
“Definitely not. Only when the weather’s real bad, or temps drop too low at night. For the most part, these cows hold their own, and the calves are more resilient than you think,” he explains. “Is this bored small talk, or do you want to know more about that kind of stuff?”
It’s a loaded question. I think there’s more meaning behind it, and he wants to know if this lifestyle is even remotely appealing to me. I don’t have to think long about my response, and I tuck my hands in my coat pocket with a smile.
“I do want to know more about it. Do you think I’d make a good hand if you taught me what to do?”
He stares at me for a moment, and his Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow. “Yeah,” he murmurs with a nod. The seriousness in his expression seems to fade as an idea sparks to life. “Your first lesson is how to get hay out of your hair after I have my way with you in the loft.”
With a laugh, I roll my eyes and try not to imagine that activity too vividly with his mom returning soon.
I try not to drool while he swipes a pocketknife from a table. Even through his heavy coat, I can’t miss the way his arms flex as he slices the twine on a nearby haybale and throws several flakes into the corner of the pen. When he turns to toss the twine into a trash barrel, my phone buzzes in my back pocket. I quickly fish it out, blowing on my fingers to warm them before I unlock it.
“You have service here,” I say.
“Shame, isn’t it?” Ledger replies with a huff, and he climbs over the panel of the pen to inspect the box where the new calfwill sleep warmly for the night. I laugh, knowing he full well means that.
Looking back down at my phone, I click on the email notification that just came through. It was sent a few days ago. My eyes scan the text quickly. It’s a message from the director of the shoot that I was on my way to when my car broke down.
Miss Blake,
The weather has changed our plans. Sadly, we aren’t going to be able to do the Snowy Range shoot. You’ll be compensated for all additional travel and accommodation expenses as a result of the cancellation. Send us a report at your earliest convenience and we’ll get it taken care of.
I’m going to attach the article that we were shooting a gallery for since the final edits were sent to me this morning. It’s a great read, but they still need some pictures before it goes to print in a few weeks. Take a look and let me know if you happen to have anything in your portfolio that would fit the vibe.
Safe travels!
-Mallory
I open the attachment and immediately, the article’s title comes up in bold black lettering.
Cowgirl Legacy: Celebrating Women in the Modern Wild West
In a flash, I tuck the phone back into my pocket and take off toward Ledger’s truck.
