Sandra Chastain by Firebrand Read Free Book Online Page A

enough.”
    “Cade,” she whispered, “please don’t. I can’t seem to think when you’re so close.”
    “I know,” he answered. “I’m having some problems with that myself.”
    “Then don’t you think we ought to avoid—touching?”
    “Yes, we ought to,” he agreed, and draped the scarf along her cheek, letting his fingers touch her for just a moment.
    “Look, there’s the truck,” one of the hands shouted.
    Cade dropped the scarf and turned around, his hand resting possessively on Rusty’s shoulder as if they had known each other years instead of hours.
    A cattle truck was racing along the road toward the barn, throwing a cloud of dust behind it. The driver slowed the truck, came to a stop, and began to back toward the corral. Cade could hear the excited snorting of the new bull inside the trailer. He sounded violent even before the back gate was lowered and the huge red animal charged toward the fenced area.
    “He’s sure a mean ’un, Rusty,” the driver observed as he piled out of the cattle hauler. “Like to butted the back wall of the cab to pieces on the way out here.”
    The bull charged around the outer fence, then walked slowly to the middle of the corral and pawed at the ground, all the while snorting and bellowing as he glared at the watching group of hands.
    The bull had a large chest, a hump on his back the size of a buffalo’s, and a lean, hairy rear end. His long tail swished sharply from one side to the other as his huge red-lined eyes darted back and forth. His head was large and flat, and his heavy curved horns extended out at least twelve inches in each direction.
    Cade let out a long whistle. “This is a bull from Borneo, Mrs. Wilder. When you go out on a limb, you take a saw with you.”
    “What do you mean, McCall? He’s just what we need. See the hump? That’s where he’ll store the extra water, in the mound of tissue. So what if he isn’t beautiful? We don’t care what he looks like. It’s the cattle he sires that count.”
    “Maybe, but if I were one of those cows and saw that hellish-looking creature heading for me, I’d get out of Dodge—quick! How do you expect to control him?”
    “That’s no problem,” she said with more assurance than she felt. “We’re accustomed to handling mean bulls. It comes with the territory. Let’s get him settled, boys.”
    But half an hour later all the hands were forced to concede that for now this bull was right where he was going to stay. Rusty gave up and accompanied one of the cowboys to the barn where they’d penned up a cow who was ready to calve. Cade fell in beside her.
    Rusty felt his presence, though she didn’t comment on it. Instead she continued talking to the man who acted as her foreman. “She’s in the barn?”
    “Yep. Found her out in the north pasture this morning. I had a feeling she was due, and we loaded her up and brought her in.”
    “You think she’s in trouble again, Doak?”
    “I’ll be blessed if she ain’t. Who’da thought that she’d try to bring another puny calf here backward?”
    “After this, get rid of her. She’ll never be a good breeder.”
    “Have you called the vet?” Cade asked.
    Rusty cut her eyes at him, chastising him for the interruption. “Vet? Calves coming breech are everyday affairs, McCall. A rancher has to learn to do his own veterinary work if he’s to survive.”
    She moved into the barn, removed her jacket, and hung it on a nail. She rolled up her sleeves and stepped into the stall, standing behind a cow withextended heaving sides. Rusty dunked her right hand and arm into a pale of foul-smelling liquid. “Disinfectant,” she said, letting it drip dry as she came up behind the groaning cow, touching her haunches with her left hand and speaking softly.
    “What can I do to help?” Cade asked quietly.
    Rusty gave a quick glance over her shoulder. “You want to help? Okay. But I give the orders, and you take them. No questions. Understand?”
    Cade