She peeled off her top and shifted her arms behind her back to unclasp her bra. A knock on the door stopped her.
“Uh, yes?” she called out.
“Neighbor called. Said he saw my cow down near the fence. I could use your help.” The gritty tone of his voice sent her into action, grabbing for her top again and yanking it overhead. In two strides, she whipped open the door and faced the rancher.
His gaze dipped over her and up to her face.
“What happened to the cow? Do you think it’s the same sickness you’ve been dealing with?” she asked.
He gave her a brusque nod and started toward the front of the house. She hurried behind and jammed her feet into her boots.
“Better wear a coat. Sun’s down and no tellin’ how long we’ll be out there.” Aidan grabbed his own flannel coat off a peg by the front door.
“My jacket’s in the truck. I’ll grab it.” When she tried to push past him to the door, he moved at the same moment, bringing her up against his hard chest. She bounced backward—actually bounced.
Aidan grabbed her shoulders to keep her from toppling over. “Sorry.” His voice took on an even gruffer edge.
Pulling free from his touch, which seemed to burn through her cotton shirt and into her flesh, she reached for the door handle. He wasn’t kidding that the air had grown colder. As she jogged to her truck to retrieve her jacket, she sucked cold air in and out of her lungs.
At that moment, she also felt the telltale headache starting deep in her skull that reminded her she’d forgotten a very important part of her day. Crap, how could she have forgotten?
With the day’s work and a lot of stress, no wonder she hadn’t given her condition a thought.
She reached into her console compartment and pulled out a plastic container. Even in the dark, she found the syringe and medication. Holding it up to the light, she managed to pull down the plunger on the syringe to fill it to the exact dosage.
“Liberty!”
“Coming.” Dammit, she needed to hurry. She pulled up her top, pinched what fat she had on her stomach and plunged the needle into her skin.
“What the fuck are you doing? Drugs?” Aidan stood at the truck door, face totally blackened by shadows.
She raised her head. “Insulin shot. I forgot to give it to myself, and it’s best I don’t get out of control in the field.” She dropped the items to the seat without placing it in the container again, and she grabbed her coat off the passenger seat.
When she turned to face him, she found his head bowed. “Sorry,” he gritted out.
“It’s okay. You think you hired a junkie. Let’s go.” With irritation guiding her, she crossed the yard to his truck. He caught up and they jumped into the truck.
When he reversed out and hit the road, she gripped the armrest to keep from being tossed around.
“Sorry again,” he said, quieter now.
She waved a hand. “It probably looked bad, me sneaking to the truck and stabbing myself with a needle.”
“How long have you been diabetic?”
“Since I was ten. It’s under control, as long as I have my shots twice a day. I forgot this evening.”
He swung his head her direction, and she didn’t need to see in the dark cab of the truck to know he was staring at her. “You’re all right now?”
“I’m fine.” She patted her jacket pocket for the snacks she’d need if her insulin shot took her too low.
He looked at the road again. The headlights lit up the night, splitting the darkness ahead of them as they sped toward the downed cow.
“The cow—you think it could be ill from the nutrition problems you’re addressing with the supplements?”
His sigh was so heavy it could create a windstorm in the truck. “I believe that played a part, but I believe this might be the same cow as last night. I shoulda brought her to the barn to watch over, but she was doing so well today, I thought she’d turned a corner and was better off in the field. Moving her would have caused more stress.”
“Is it bloat? Or some cow disease spreading through your herd?”
“God, don’t even say that.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Two cows were sick. One had bloat and the other seemed weak, not accepting the nutrients I’ve been feeding.”
“Maybe it’s only weak stock.”
He nodded. “Could be. We’ll find out.” He stopped the truck and cut the engine. Then he leaned across Liberty to pop the glove compartment. His big, warm arm pressed into her thigh as he rummaged around and came out with a big flashlight and a headlamp.
He passed her the flashlight and straightened up. Long after they left the truck and walked through the field, she felt the place where his arm had lain on her thigh. She could reach down and trace the outline of it with a finger.
The black hump of the cow lit up with the beam of light she held. “There.”
“I see her.” His quick strides carried him away from her, and she ran to keep up with him.
Aidan grabbed the cow’s ear and read the tag. “Damn, it is the same cow. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”
“Well, it means it’s not affecting the rest of the herd, so I’d say it’s good.”
“Yeah, but losing one will cost me a couple grand come auction in the fall.”
She looked at his face, a pale glow in the light she held and the headlamp he wore around the band of his cowboy hat. “What do we do?” she asked.
“First thing is get her up. The longer she lays here the more chance she has of dyin’.”
“We push her up?”
“You got it. Lay the light down and get on this side with me.”
He pulled off a rope clipped to his belt and got it around the cow’s neck. “First we’ll push and if that doesn’t work, you take her by the rope and pull with all you got while I push from this end. Got it?”
“Yes.” Her heart thumped with the adrenaline that came with emergencies, whether involving animals or people. And watching the big man in action, realizing he cared so damn much about his herd that he was out here a second night in a row to care for one sick cow, caused her belly to dip with warmth.
“Ready? Push.”
She quickly dropped to her knees and pressed against the cow’s side. Together they put their strength into the effort, and after three hard shoves, the cow stumbled to its feet.
A small cheer of victory passed through Liberty’s lips.
Aidan looked at her hard. “It’s a start.”
Why did she get the feeling he wasn’t talking about cattle?
Chapter Three
“You sure it’s okay to sleep? The cow’s all right for the night?” Liberty concealed a big yawn behind her hand.
“What’s left of the night, yeah. With the cow in the barn and antibiotics administered, it’s all we can really do for now.” Aidan paused at Liberty’s bedroom door. “Sleep in. I’ll take care of mornin’ chores.”
The woman was dead on her feet, swaying with exhaustion. He didn’t like that she might not be taking care of herself, with her diabetes and all.
She turned to him, her hair long fallen from her ponytail and framing her face in strawberry blonde, messy waves. He followed a wave where it lay on her cheek and down to her delicate jaw.