Page 87 of Wishing Hearts

“…if you think tacos would be all right. I can take care of it.”

“I… Shit, Sam. Sorry, I don’t know if…”

The cow pushes again, and my focus is waylaid. She’s getting tired; I can see it in her frame. I may need to help pull the calf the rest of the way out. There’s no way I’m getting out of here in the next half hour. Goddamn it, I’m going to have to call my parents. Fuck. They’ll miss their show.

“Harrison?”

I shake my head. “Sam, I have to go. There’s too much going on, and I need to make arrangements for Winnie, and I just can’t think about dinner right now, okay?”

My tone is terse, but I can barely focus, one eye on the cow, my thoughts on my child and this fucked-up day, and yet again, I miss part of what Sam is saying.

“…do to help?”

“Doc?” Roy calls, turning my way.

“Sam, I’m sorry,” I say into the phone. “I have to go.”

“Wait, I—”

“I can’t do this right now,” I say hotly, my frustration bleeding into my tone. I feel bad for yelling, but I haven’t eaten, nothing has gone right today, I have a cow very nearly in distress, and I’m going to have to let my parents know I’ll be late. On the one night they have plans. It’s too much. Too overwhelming. I can’t deal with Sam on top of it.

I don’t wait for Sam’s response before hanging up the phone. I drop it on my bag, step into the mouth of the stall, and freeze. My gut clenches, anxiety ratcheting tenfold, as I realize what I just did.

Sam asks hardly anything of me except not to push him away. He told me. He doesn’t deal with abandonment well, and in a split second of annoyance over my own issues, I tossed him aside as if he isn’t the best damn thing to happen to me in who knows how long.

Shit, shit, mother-fudging shit.

“Doc?” Roy calls.

“I’m sorry, Roy,” I say, hopping to and pulling on a glove to check the cow. The calf’s position is good, despite being breech, but the cow’s strength may have waned too much at this point to get him or her out. “I need two minutes to fix a mistake, and then I’ll get this calf out, okay?”

He gives me a knowing nod. “Problem with the missus?”

“Mister,” I correct, tugging off my glove and standing. He doesn’t even blink. “Excuse me.”

Out in the hall, I grab my phone and hit redial. My heart races as I wait for Sam to pick up, and blessedly, he doesn’t make me wait long. He answers on the third ring.

“Harrison,” he says, his hurt evident in the one word.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe out. “I’m so sorry, Sam. This day has been shit, but it’s no excuse for how I just spoke to you.”

“You hung up on me,” he says, voice smaller than I’ve ever heard before, but also laced with steel. Sam has his guard up, and I’m the reason. He’s never sounded like that with me before, and I hate it. I hate that I made him hurt. I hate that I was that careless.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m on your side, y’know?” he says.

“I do.” I do know that. Sam always makes things easier, except when I’m being too pigheaded to let him. “Sammy, I need your help.”

He blows out a breath, and his voice sounds much more like the Sam I know when he answers me. “’Bout time. What can I do?”

The pressure in my stomach eases as I finish my phone call with Sam, and when I hang up, I’m feeling lighter. I head back into the stall and pull on my gloves, and twenty minutes later, a new calf is born at the Hortons’ farm.

Maybe this day was an unmitigated mess. But it made me realize some important truths. And now, I just have to decide if I’m brave enough to face them head-on.

Chapter 24

Sammy

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