Reining Her In

Chapter 3: Heifers and Exes

The Present

It was a little after nine in the morning when I drove past the hand-carved Welcome to Hayesville sign as I coasted down Main Street. It probably should go without saying that I hadn't slept well the night before. Although Kieran had given me two doses of s****l healing, I'd found myself on edge, rather than being relaxed. Sensing there was something wrong, he'd offered to stay the night, but I'd assured him I was fine. The last thing I needed was for my grief to override one of my principles that hookups didn't get extremely personal details or stay the night.

Oh s**t. I was starting to sound like a man.

With a disgusted groan, I twisted my hands tighter around the steering wheel. My disgust came from both my behavior about Kieran and the fact I was even thinking about him considering what I'd come home to do. The only man I should have been thinking about was Papa. I was in mourning for f**k's sake. I shouldn't have been thinking about Kieran wrecking my v****a the night before, least of all Declan who had wrecked my life, not my v****a.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Even though we'd been young, there had been passion and heat between Declan and me. Although he'd already sowed some wild oats by the time we got together our senior year, he was my first. Over the years and after many lovers, I could still say with certainty he knew what he was doing. Throwing my hands up, I shouted, “Dammit, Peyton! Would you focus?"

When I threw a glance to my right, a man in a pickup truck was staring at me like I had lost my mind. Or maybe he thought I was just another weird out-of-towner. Ducking my head, I sank down in my seat. My foot slammed on the accelerator the moment the light turned green. When the brick building on the corner came into sight, I began slowing my car. Even after all these years, it was just as I had remembered it.

After a quick glance in my rearview mirror, I whipped my car into one of the parking spaces. With my heart beating like a brass band in my chest, I threw the car into park and grabbed my purse. After searching for my key chain (I had one of those “fancy button cars" as Papa would say), I flipped to the gold one. Although he knew I didn't plan on entering town anytime soon, Papa still insisted on me knowing the alarm codes for both of his houses and his practice. He also kept me up to date with a set of keys. I guess in a weird way he probably thought it was another way of giving me a tie to Hayesville. Like one day the fact I had the key to his practice would make me want to abandon Atlanta and come back home for good.

Since my parents weren't expecting me until later, I felt like I had time to go inside. I didn't know if one of the vet techs had already come to do the morning feedings for the surgical patients or the dogs being boarded. Keeping my head down, I hustled across the sidewalk and up to the front door. My hand shook slightly as I slid the key into the hole. After unlocking the door, I stepped inside.

With a smile, I realized the alarm keypad was still in the same place. I punched in the code and disabled the alarm. As I turned back around, I took in the warm red, blues, and greens of the waiting room. While the furniture had changed, the color scheme had not. The giant saltwater aquarium was still in the back corner. With my face pressed against the tank, I'd spent hours as a kid watching the fish swim. Walking past the reception desk, I opened the door leading to the examining rooms. Papa always had the canine examining rooms on the left and the feline on the right.

After poking my head in one of the doors, I smiled that it was still the same. I shouldn't have been surprised. Papa was an extreme creature of habit. As memories swirled in my head, I continued purposefully walking. One room in particular was drawing me. When I turned to the left down the other hallway, I stopped at the first door. For a moment, my hand hovered over the knob. I wasn't sure I could handle what was inside.

Shuttering my eyes, I sucked in a deep breath before opening the door. Before I took a step inside, a familiar voice echoed through my mind. “Peyton Anne, what are you doing standing there in the doorway? Come on in here and tell me all about your day."

Tears streaked down my cheeks at the sweet memory of how Papa always greeted me. When I opened my eyes, I wished more than anything to find him sitting in his chair.

But it was empty.

Slowly, I stepped across the oak floorboards as I made my way over to his desk. The same worn, high-back chair was in front of the mahogany desk that had belonged to my great-grandfather. Pulling the chair back, I eased into the seat. As I scanned over the framed photographs on the desk, tears once again overflowed. Some of the photos were of my grandmother, who had been gone for fifteen years. Others were of my father when he was a little boy.

The knife of grief twisted further in my chest at the picture of me in my cap and gown at my graduation from vet school. With an arm around my waist, Papa was leaned in, kissing my cheek while I smiled at the camera. As the emotions overwhelmed me, I buried my head in my hands. For the second time in twenty-four hours, I sat at a desk sobbing uncontrollably.

When I finally came back to myself, I was a snotty mess. After reaching for a tissue, I swiped my eyes before blowing my nose. I didn't know how long I'd been sitting there crying at Papa's desk. In some ways, it felt like forever and in others, it felt like I had just sat down. If just being in his office had this effect on me, how would I make it through the next two days of the visitation and then the funeral?

With an agonized sigh, I pushed the chair back and rose to my feet. Just as I turned to start to the door, the phone rang. The moment the shrill ring echoed through my ears I felt a strange pull to answer it. For the life of me, I didn't understand why. Before it could go to voicemail, I reached over and snatched the receiver. “Hello?"

“Hey Mandie, this is Roy Wallace. I need Doc Beasley out here. I gotta breech calf, and I can't for the life of me get it turned."

The request sent the knife of grief twisting further in my chest. I cleared my throat. “This isn't Mandie, and Dr. Beasley isn't here."

“Well, if he's out on rounds, can you get word to him to come?"

I shuttered my eyes in pain. I'd give anything in the world if I could. “No. I can't. Papa—I mean, Dr. Beasley passed away yesterday."

“Oh no. I just got back in town this morning from a cattle show, and I sure hate to hear the sad news. Harris wasn't just a wonderful vet—he was a fine man."

“Yes, he was."

“Please pass along my thoughts and prayers to the family."

“I will."

“What about Doc Kisick?"

“Unfortunately, he's on vacation at the moment. He won't be back until tomorrow evening."

At the loud baying of a cow, Roy let out a juicy curse. “I just don't know what I'm going to do. This heifer has got to be seen about. You wouldn't happen to know of any other vets, would you?"

I bolted upright in the chair. “As a matter of fact, I do."

“Oh good. I hope he isn't too far away."

“Actually, you're talking to her."

Silence echoed on the line. I could only imagine Roy was contemplating whether or not he wanted to subject his cow to a “lady doctor". Female veterinarians faced the same narrow-minded prejudices that women did in the medical field. Especially in backwoods areas like Hayesville. Just as I was about to ask if he was still there, Roy coughed. “I ain't been to town for a few weeks, but did Doc Beasley hire a new vet?"

“No, he didn't. I'm Peyton Beasley, his granddaughter."

“Little Peyton that used to run around his office with a stethoscope around her neck?"

I smiled at the image. “That was me."

“Well, I'll be darned. I don't think I've seen you in ten years. You were supposed to marry the St. James boy, weren't you?"

At the mention of Declan, I tensed. “I was," I bit out. I don't know why I was surprised Roy mentioned my infamous jilting. It was one of the top three things Hayesville residents seemed to remember about me after being Valedictorian and Homecoming Queen.

“I think your grandfather told me you were a vet in Atlanta."

“I am. I work at one of the top animal and surgical centers there."

“Isn't that somethin'? I sure would be honored for you to come out and look at my cow."

Shifting the phone between my shoulder and cheek, I reached for the notepad on Papa's desk. “What's your address?" As Roy related it to me, I scribbled it down. “Give me about twenty minutes."

“Okay. I'll see you then." When I hung up from Roy, a renewed sense of purpose filled me. Thank you, Papa. Roy would be honored for me to tend to his cow. All because of you.

I hustled out of Papa's office, and went straight to the supply closet. Although it had been at least ten years since I'd been inside, nothing had changed in his meticulous organization. Some of the tools and medicines had been updated, but I knew exactly where to go to find the necessary materials to deliver a breech calf. Once I had gathered everything, I plopped it all down on the counter.

“Okay, let's see. Halter and rope? Check. OB gloves? Check. Lubricant? Check. Roll cotton? Check. OB Straps and Handles? Check."

I turned and went over to the medicine cabinet. After taking out some oxytocin and epinephrine, I surveyed the room for an extra medical bag. I knew Papa's would be at home or in his car since he always liked to be prepared. After finding an extra bag in the corner, I packed up the materials. On my way out of the storage room, I grabbed an empty bucket. Satisfied that I had the necessary tools, I started for the back door.

At the sound of my heels clicking down the tile floor, I froze. Glancing down at my feet, I shook my head. There was no way my heels would make it. I'd be sinking in the pastureland the moment I stepped out of my car. Sitting the materials down, I headed back into Papa's office. Thankfully, he kept a few pairs of Wellies. Although they would be a little big, I grabbed a pair and tucked them under one of my armpits. With my free hand, I punched in the alarm code before grabbing the medicine bag and bucket.

A feeling of heightened anticipation washed over me as I punched in Roy's address on the GPS. It was quite unexpected considering the last eighteen hours had been spent smothered in a cloud of grief. Roy's farm was about fifteen minutes north of Papa's office. Once I began making the familiar curves and turns along the country road, the high of anticipation left me. In its wake was choking bitterness. I knew this area all too well. It was where Declan had grown up.

Glancing out the window, I could almost envision me sitting on the back of one of his ATVs as we kicked up clouds of dirt while tearing through the pasture. Other times I would be astride one of their horses as we rode along the sixty acres his family owned. We'd fallen in love on that land. f**k. This was a bad idea. It was one thing to have to come to Hayesville to deal with my grief. Since I'd grown up a town kid, my area of interaction would have been regulated to a five-mile radius of Main Street. Taking Roy Wallace's call had thrown me right into Declan's world.

Once the GPS directed me to the faded mailbox at the end of a long, gravel drive, I eased my car off onto the shoulder. Swinging my legs out of the car, I deposited my heels and then slid on the Wellies. As I was gathering my materials, a voice to my right bellowed hello.

I jerked my head up to search for the voice. An older man leaned against the gate. In his faded denim overalls, Atlanta Braves baseball cap, and jaw full of tobacco, he appeared every bit the stereotypical backwoods farmer.

“Mr. Wallace I presume?" I asked as I lumbered up to him. The oversized boots were not helping my gait on the uneven terrain.

“Yes, ma'am." He grinned as he extended his hand. “But call me Roy."

“Peyton Beasley. Nice to meet you."

After shifting his chaw of tobacco, Roy's gaze dropped from mine to trail down my body. Just when I thought he was getting slightly pervy, he motioned to me. “You gonna do this in your fancy clothes?"

Now it was my turn to glance down. s**t. In my haste, I'd forgotten to bring an apron to protect my clothes. My black pantsuit wasn't exactly “fancy" as Roy called it, but it was one of my more expensive outfits considering I lived in scrubs. “I suppose I am."

He jerked his thumb to the driveway. “I could get you an extra pair of my overalls. Maybe even a pair of the coveralls I use when I'm working on the farm equipment."

Normally, I would have dismissed his suggestion, but considering the fact I had to be at the funeral home later, the last thing I needed to do was show up with bovine blood spatter or amniotic fluid on me.

“You know, I think the coveralls would be wonderful. Thank you."

Roy nodded. “Be back in a jiffy."

While he went after the coveralls, I checked in on my patients back in Atlanta. I was grateful to hear everyone was doing well, including Barney after his tango with the Ben Wa ball. I chose to ignore a text from Kieran asking me how I was doing.

When Roy returned, I stepped into the faded blue coveralls that were dotted with grease and motor oil. Once I zipped them up, I found Roy grinning at me.

“Not my style?" I asked.

He laughed. “No, I'd just been thinking you look a sight better in those than I do." He patted the slight bulge of his belly. “I'm not as fit as I used to be.

“While I appreciate the compliment, I'm sure you totally rock these."

Motioning me with his hand, I followed Roy into the pasture. After hauling about a half a mile, we came to the top of a hill that ran along the woods. Although several cows were milling around, I noticed the pregnant heifer right away. “Let me take a closer look," I told Roy.

A “closer look" in veterinarian speak meant an internal exam, and between the two holes to choose from, I was going in the ass. It had been a considerable amount of time since I'd worked with cows, or in this case been up to my shoulder in a cow's ass, but some aspects of veterinarian medicine you never forgot. I was in middle school the first time I'd slid on one of the industrial sized OB gloves that looked like a giant condom. Under Papa's tutelage, I had delivered my first breech calf. I'd learned it's best to go through the rectum first to assess the situation before rooting around in the vag. The fact I didn't lube the glove up enough and took a back hoof to my mouth full of braces also helped me to remember the proper procedures. Today I made sure to pour plenty of lube across my condom-clad arm.

After easing my way inside, I noted the signs of distress. After pulling my arm out, I looked at Roy. “Okay, first, I'm going to give her an epidural to stop her from straining so she's not pushing against me. I also think some epinephrine couldn't hurt because it'll help her uterus to relax."

Roy nodded. “I knew I could keep pulling on the calf's leg all day, but I was worried about tearing her womb."

“You made the right call," I replied, as I dug the medications and needles out of my bag. After measuring out the proper doses, I administered the medicines. Now it was time to get down to business birthing the calf. To keep from spreading bacteria, I put on a clean pair of gloves before I went in the birth canal.

As I was turning the calf, I heard the sound of something coming through the brush. At the sound of conversation coupled with the snort of a horse, I surmised it must be some riders on horseback.

“Peyton?"

Fuck me with a chainsaw. I recognized that voice. I'd know the deep timbre anywhere. It had haunted me all these years. At the sound of the voice, I became a full-fledged Peyton statue. All of the pain and mortification and anger converged in that moment leaving me paralyzed. I couldn't blink, least of all move. I just stood staring at the cow's ass with my arm buried in its v****a while wishing I could sink beneath the grass and manure.

With my arm still engaged, I threw a glance over my shoulder. “Declan," I acknowledged. There was no way in hell I would dare say it was nice seeing him. To be polite, I could lie about a lot of things, but that wasn't one of them. Sadness, tinged with regret, flashed in his blue eyes.

“I was very sorry to hear about Harris passing. He was a good man," he said sincerely.

“Thank you."

“I assume his funeral is what brings you back to town after all these years."

“Yes, that's the reason."

Peering curiously, he jerked his chin at me. “But what are you doing now?"

“I'm violating a heifer. What does it look like I'm doing?" I snapped.

Declan opened his mouth, but any sound coming out of it was drowned out by the agitated mooing of the heifer. Apparently, the tension I was feeling externally had correlated to my grip inside her. After vocally telling me off, she raised one of her legs and nailed me in the thigh. The force sent me off balance.

What happened next will remain a mystery to me.

Maybe because I've never quite grasped all the laws of physics and motion. One minute I was upright, reeling from the pain of having a hoof to my thigh while trying to stay upright, and the next I was face-planting into a pile of cow manure.

Yes, you read that right. I was lying in a pile of literal s**t in front of the man who had treated me like s**t. I had just fallen one rung below the seventh ring of Hell. Strong male hands came under my armpits and hoisted me upright. When I was once again on my feet, I swiped my face on the back of my arm. I could barely see since my eyes were still encrusted with a mixture of dirt and cow s**t. Blinking through my clouded vision, I couldn't believe my savior had come in the form of Declan.

“Jesus, are you okay?"

After jerking my chin up, I flipped a strand of manure encased hair over my shoulder. “I'm perfectly fine, thank you. I certainly didn't need your help."

“Same old ball-busting Peyton," Declan remarked.

I jabbed a s**t-covered finger at him. “You're damn right, I am. One might say I'm even more ball-busting. It's the one good thing that came out of your cowardly ass jilting me at the altar."

Regret flashed in his eyes. “Peyton, I—"

“If you will excuse me, I have a breech calf to deliver. Unlike you, I honor my promises." I then turned back to the heifer. When I dared a glance at Roy, his eyes were as wide as saucers. If he didn't close his mouth, he was going to catch flies.

“Nice seeing you, Mr. Wallace," Declan said. As I attended to the cow, I heard his footsteps go back over to his horse. A few moments later he was racing through the brush. Inwardly, I wanted to crumple onto the pasture floor, roll into a fetal position, and bawl my eyes out. But I had a job to do and no man, not even the one who had shattered my heart into pieces, was going to stop me from doing that.

Nodding at Roy, I said, “Let's do this."