“Yeah,” Ty said darkly. Tending to her meant either supporting her in a sling or turning her four times a day so that her weight didn’t damage her nerves or lungs. Right now the challenge was getting her to the barn.
“I have a pretty sturdy gate,” he said, shifting his gaze from the cow to the vet. The problem with ranching alone was that there was rarely another pair of hands when needed—that and the very real possibility of getting hurt and not being able to summon help. “I couldn’t come up with a way to manhandle her onto it myself.”
“I’ll lend a hand,” Sam said drily.
Ty grinned. “I appreciate it.”
The two men walked back to the tractor. “So who’s driving the Subaru that isn’t in the snowbank?”
“My late partner’s sister.”
“Is she going to become an active partner?”
“Not if I can help it.” Ty was surprised at the bitterness in his voice. He made a stab at damage control after Sam sent him a questioning look. “She’s a college professor and doesn’t exactly fit in here. Plus…she kind of knows a lot, if you get my drift.”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “I think I do.”
They drove back to the barn and chained the heavy metal gate to the back of the tractor like a sled, then returned to the cow, where between the two of them they managed to roll the animal onto it and tow her back to the barn. Sam rode with the cow, which acted as if she were pulled through the snow on a makeshift toboggan on a regular basis.
Once the cow was in the barn, Ty and Sam got her arranged on the sling Sam had brought with him, then used the tractor bucket to lift her and attach the sling to supports on the metal rafters. Both men were breathing hard when they got done. The cow, on the other hand, seemed happy to be off the ground.
Ty had only had this happen once before, with an older cow, and she’d regained the use of her hindquarters within a matter of days after calving. That wasn’t always the case, however.
“How long shall I give her?” he asked the vet.
Sam ran a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “If she’s not back on her feet in two weeks, tops, then…” He gestured philosophically.
Ty nodded. This was an expensive cow.
“Let’s go to the truck and I’ll give you the meds. Just yell if you have any more trouble. It’s been pretty slow this month, so I should be available.”
“Thanks.” Ty walked with Sam to his panel truck. “One more thing. If you do happen to see that little car stuck somewhere…”
Sam grinned. “You’ll be the first guy I call.”
CONNOR WASN’T ANSWERING his phone. Madeline closed her eyes, her shoulders sinking as she released a frustrated breath and let her head fall back against the seat rest of her car. Ninety-nine percent of the time, she maintained a high level of self-control, but right now she was edging into one-percent territory.
Right.
Who was she trying to kid? She’d been making regular sorties into one-percent territory since being relieved of her teaching duties. Probably her stupidest move was when she’d ignored Everett’s advice and tried to talk to Dr. Jensen in the staff parking lot. When she’d stepped out from behind her car and into his path, her former mentor’s expression had been first surprised and then cold. All he’d said was, “I can’t discuss the case.”
“It’s not like I’m wearing a wire,” Madeline had replied in as wry of a voice as she could manage, stung that the man who’d helped build her career was treating her like a leper. Surely the coldness was a facade. When Jensen shook his head and pushed past her, though, she’d known he was serious. He couldn’t or wouldn’t discuss the case.
Later, when she’d come to her senses, she was able to see that he’d had legal reasons for not speaking to her, perhaps even for being so cold and unemotional. But all she’d wanted was a bit of reassurance. A look, a wink, a hint that all would be well. He, of all people, knew how important her studies and her job were to her. It wouldn’t have killed him to do something to ease her mind.
She tossed the phone onto the seat beside her and put her idling car into gear. No sounding board today. She was on her own—a feeling she’d become quite familiar with over the past several weeks.
CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS A FEW MINUTES after one o’clock and Madeline still wasn’t back. Sam hadn’t called, as he’d promised to do if he saw the blasted woman stuck somewhere, so she had to be off doing…something.
None of your business.
Ty headed out to the barn to check the cow. Dark clouds obliterated the top of Lone Summit. The snow would start falling soon. A headache started to throb near his temples.
It was a hell of a lot easier to tell himself that if she got into trouble it was none of his business than to believe it. She wouldn’t be here if Skip was still alive. If Madeline Blaine got herself into trouble, it was Ty’s job to get her out again. Like it or not, insulted or not, he owed it to Skip, so he felt a small surge of relief when Alvin suddenly went on alert while Ty was dragging straw bales close to the cow in preparation for bedding changes. The collie never barked at intruders, only at other animals, but there was no mistaking his message. Madeline was back.
When Ty left the barn a few minutes later, Alvin close at his heels, he found Madeline’s car parked next to Skip’s house, and he had to admit to being impressed. Not many people, including her brother, could have driven that little beast up Lone Summit Road. Madeline had a talent.
A few minutes after he was back inside, she knocked on the door. He kept his expression carefully blank as he answered, determined to keep it businesslike between them, regardless of any tactless accusations that might pop out of her mouth. Madeline stood on the top porch step, looking professorial in a dressy navy wool coat, white blouse and black slacks underneath it. Her straight dark hair just brushed her shoulders from under a classic beret. The only way she could have looked more out of place would have been if she was wearing a skirt. Or maybe a swimsuit.
She held out a new bottle of 409 cleaner. “Thank you for the loan.”
He took the bottle without arguing that it was a lot fuller than the one he’d lent her. “You’re welcome.”
One corner of her mouth tightened in an expression of uncertainty—the first he’d ever seen on her face. “I also have your mail. The postmistress suggested I bring it to you. I hope that was all right. It was hard to say no, and I was very careful not to lose any.”
As if she could. There were four rubber bands holding the catalogs, newspapers and magazines into a U-shape, with the letters and cards tightly sandwiched in the middle. He could see the colorful envelopes of Christmas cards in the bundle.
“Probably just junk mail, anyway.” He shifted his weight. “I think we should have a sit-down.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly. What had she thought? That he was going to spend his days dodging her? Or that he needed more time to cook the books?
“When would be a convenient for you?” she asked politely.
“How about this afternoon?” The sooner he got this over with, the better.
“How about tomorrow?” The words shot out of her mouth and this time his eyebrows rose. “I have to get that house cleaned.” She sounded almost desperate. She may even have suppressed a shudder. Well, it wasn’t his fault she was living there.
“Tomorrow then. Ten o’clock.”
“Ten o’clock.” She glanced past him in the general direction of his home office, formerly the dining room, where his computer screen saver was flashing