He took notes in case there was a next time, as the three human females led the throng of cows away. His neurotransmitters fired haphazardly, which had to be the reason he couldn’t look away from Cheyenne. The side-view mirror framed her perfectly as she walked with her hand on the bull’s neck, chatting merrily to the animals and to his daughters.
What was it about the woman? Why couldn’t he look away?
She paused at the green truck parked behind him and rummaged around in the backseat. She was a splash of colors, auburn hair, sun-bronzed skin, green T-shirt, denim jeans and she claimed something deeper within him he could not name.
He didn’t remember getting out of the car. Suddenly he was standing on the pavement with the Wyoming wind ruffling his hair, squinting against the sun, spellbound by her brightness. Cheyenne Granger tossed her head, her chuckle a soft melodic sound that rippled through the air and seemed to make the daisies in the field stand up to take notice.
He couldn’t explain what ached deep inside as if he’d contracted organ failure. He could not breathe as Cheyenne marched right through the herd, a slip of a woman compared to those large and powerful animals. His daughters trailed in her wake, Julianna skipping, her face beaming. He hadn’t realized how happy staying the summer in Wyoming was making his girls. Jenny laughed, actually laughed right along with Cheyenne as the girl climbed down the embankment into the knee-high grass, a different child from the one she’d been a month ago.
“Cheyenne! I think Shrek loves me.” Julianna wrapped her arms around the bull’s broad chest.
Concern lurched through him as he launched forward, but the huge animal nibbled at one of Julianna’s pigtails affectionately. Adam skidded to a stop, feeling awkward on the side of the road.
“He is definitely sweet on you.” Cheyenne strong-armed the heavy bag to the ground and bent to move aside the wires of what used to be a working fence. “Jenny, looks like you’ve found some new friends, too.”
“As if.” The tween rolled her eyes, hiding a giggle as several cows vied for her affection. With her dark hair framing her face, she looked as sweet as the little girl she used to be and grown-up enough to show the hint of the woman she would become one day. Kind and thoughtful and gentle-hearted. He was grateful the Lord had led him here.
“All right, you bunch of troublemakers.” Humor rang like a song as Cheyenne tore open the bag and waded into the tall grasses. “Look what I have for you.”
Every cow’s head lifted, and big nostrils scented the breeze. Ears pricked upward. Eyes brightened. The animals clattered around Jenny and lipped at Julianna’s pigtails on the way by, streaming down the embankment and through the hole in the fence, Shrek in the lead.
“Nothing like a little bribery.” Cheyenne upended the last of the bag, gave it a shake and stepped back as the herd descended on the pile of treats. Teeth crunched, jowls worked and tails swished as the cows happily ate. Cheyenne tracked back to the red fence posts, rounded up the girls and sent them climbing the embankment before she restrung the wire the best she could, considering the fence posts were leaning.
“Daddy, did you see?” Julianna rushed up, pleasure pinked her cheeks. “I love cows and they love me.”
Don’t even start. The words rang in his mind and formed on his tongue. We’re not getting a cow. But his daughter’s shining joy stopped him.
“I want to be just like Cheyenne when I grow up.” She grabbed his hand, her fingers small compared to his, so very small. Her pigtails were askew and tiny bits of grass were embedded in the soft brown hair. Her summery shirt had a big wet spot from some cow’s adoring lick. She tipped her head, chatting on merrily. “I’m gonna be a vet so I can fix birds like Tomasina and take care of dogs like Cheyenne does and so I can find every lonely animal their very own home.”
“I’m sure you will be very good at it.” He remembered what dreams were, so precious like twinkling stars that gave light to a vast night of darkness, dreams that could shine so bright if fed with hope and encouragement.
What had happened to his dreams? Where had they gone?
“Aunt Cady’s not going to believe it happened again, that more cows were on the road.” Jenny bounded up to the car door and yanked it open. “I get to tell her first this time, Julianna. You always do it and it’s my turn.”
“I do not,” Julianna argued gleefully. “Okay, maybe I do but I don’t mean to. It just comes out. I can’t stop it.”
“Well, try.” Feigning annoyance, Jenny rolled her eyes and plopped onto the backseat.
Adam felt a tug of awareness, the realization that Cheyenne Granger was near. Vaguely, he noticed Julianna release his hand, scamper away and climb in beside her sister. He reached for his open door, finding his knees a little iffy. Weak knees, damp palms—the woman was a hazard to him.
“The cows are safely contained for now, although how long that patch job holds is anyone’s guess.” Cheyenne padded toward him in hiking boots, and he realized the shirt she wore had Wild Horse Animal Hospital scrawled across it in looping white letters. “I called the Parnells, so one of them should be out in a jiffy to do a better job with that fence. They send their apologies for inconveniencing you.”
“I didn’t know what to do. Next time I will.” Near to her, he felt awkward, too tall, too big and too dark, as if the sunlight didn’t touch him. “Honking didn’t seem to work.”
“Goodness, no!” She laughed. “That only made them more curious. I don’t know why cows are so fascinated by the road, but most times when they get out they don’t head for the hills kicking up their heels and enjoying their freedom. They stand in the road.”
“I noticed.”
“I suppose if I was a cow in a field watching the traffic go by, I might want to go where all the action is, too.” She looked down at the crumpled and empty feed bag she still clutched, as if it held answers for her there—or perhaps he was making her feel awkward again.
Yes, that was it. He was staring at her too much. Definitely too much. He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the cattle. A few vied for the last of the treats while the rest of the herd had turned around and noted the gap in the fence had been repaired. Sorrowful moos rang out and several animals leaned against the wire.
“Isn’t it supposed to be electric?” he asked. “Shouldn’t that hurt?”
“Tall grass must have short-circuited the current somewhere. It happens.” She shrugged, taking a step backward. “You probably don’t run into this problem very often in midtown Manhattan.”
“Can’t say that I do.” She was funny, he realized, and almost smiled. “You have quite a skill when it comes to cattle.”
“I’ve been around them all my life. You’ve met my dad. He grew up on our family ranch just like I did. My earliest memories are being in the barns with him, walking between the stalls, going from animal to animal doling out treats, food, formula and medical care as needed.”
“It must have been a nice way to grow up.”
“It was. God incredibly blessed me with the life I have.” Love for her life, that was something that would never change. She shook her head at the cows leaning over the fence, begging with their Bambi eyes and tragic moos for more of those yummy treats. She held up the empty bag so they could see. “That’s all I have. No more.”
They surely recognized the words no more. The cows appeared shocked at how that could possibly be true, and then even more sad as their moos began again.
“Persistence is the key to more treats,” she