Knitted Hearts by Amber Kelly

Foster

“We have a couple of cows loose. They must have broken through a fence backing up to the orchard on the other side of the river,” Winston informs us as we make our way in from dropping hay in the bale feeders.

“Shit, I’ll get the truck,” Truett says.

“I’ll grab a horse and meet you out that way,” I call after him. “How many are we talking?” I ask Winston.

“Eleven were spotted. The reverend was making a house call and saw them. He called me. There could be more though. I rode out, and the breach is a pretty good size.”

Dammit.

“We planned to reinforce the fence in the main pastures but not until we moved the herd to the winter pasture. Myer wanted to put in an entire new fence with barbed wire because the coyotes have been getting more aggressive out there and we need to protect the calves,” I tell him.

“Looks like we might have to move them sooner than we planned and get that taken care of,” Winston advises.

“I’ll let him know. I’ll need another man on horseback,” I say as I reach in my pocket to retrieve my phone.

“I’ll catch up to Truett, grab some supplies, and help him hitch up a trailer, and we’ll see you there,” Winston says as he heads toward the driveway.

By the time Myer makes it to the barn, I’ve already saddled two of our fastest cow ponies, and we take off at a breakneck speed to the back of the ranch to try to wrangle the wayward beasts back into the safety of the pasture.

Winston and Truett are already parked up ahead of the breach and have unloaded materials to do a quick patch. They have the livestock trailer backed in to face out with the doors open and a loading ramp in place.

“Looks like something spooked them and they barreled right through the fence,” Winston says as we approach.

“Probably one of those damn coyotes. The one Payne and I caught sight of the other night was huge,” Myer says as he eyes the damage.

“They were spotted just short of a mile in that direction.” Winston points toward the mountainside.

“We’ll get them,” I say.

Myer and I ride through the hole together and head up the side of the mountain in search of the animals.

It takes us about half an hour of searching before finding four grazing near a patch of oak trees nearly a quarter of a mile from the fence. We slow our pace and approach them as calmly and as quietly as possible so as not to startle them.

When we get to the other side of the tree line, we see the others a few feet away.

“You move around to the back, and I’ll take the front,” Myer instructs as we make it to the small herd.

I keep a slow and steady pace as I start to circle the cows to bring them in closer together. The cows look up from eating, curious about the horses that have joined their party.

The trick is to stay where the animals can see you. In the movies you watch as kids, the cowboys whooped and hawed at cattle to get them moving, but if you spook them, you have zero chance of leading them to safety. So, we work as a team with each other and our ponies to gently coax them to start moving in the direction we want them to go.

It’s more like a slow dance than a whooping and hollering match.

When we get them within sight of the trailer, Winston and Truett start encouraging them to it with hay and grain. One by one, they load themselves onto the trailer, and Truett latches the door.

Once the cattle are secure, we set to patching the fence for the night, so we don’t lose any more before daybreak.

Myer and I head back on the horses, and Winston and Truett drive the animals back to be loaded in the holding corral until we can reunite them with the rest of the herd tomorrow.

“I reckon we’ll be moving them to the winter pasture this weekend?” I ask.

“Looks like it. We’ll work to get it ready in the next few days. I’ll ride out in the morning to check and make sure the water supply is good. We might have to dam the river like we did last year to make sure it rises enough on that side of the property.”

I nod, thinking it’s going to be a few long days out on the ranch.

“I can see that frown from under your hat. You got other plans?” he asks.

I nod my head. “I was going to take a girl to dinner on Saturday night. I’ll call her and ask if we can do it another night,” I offer.

“A date? With who?” he asks.

“Sonia.”

His eyebrows rise. “How’d you manage that?” he asks.

“I’m not sure. We spent the day together Sunday, just talking. Then, Wendy stranded me with her broken-down car the other night, and Sonia happened to drive by and offered to give me a ride home. So, I took the opportunity and asked her as a thank-you,” I explain.

He nods. “Don’t reschedule that. You might not get another opportunity dropped so conveniently in your lap again. You work till you need to leave, and Dad, Truett, and I’ll handle the rest. If we need backup, I’ll call Brax and Walker to come by and lend a hand for a couple of hours.”

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Definitely. If I made you break a date with Sonia to work and Bellamy found out, she’d stomp a mud puddle in my ass and walk it dry,” he says.

I laugh because I could see that fight now. “I’ll stay late the next two nights and come in early Saturday. Hopefully, we’ll have everything done by the time I need to head out anyway.”

“Am I allowed to tell Dallas about this turn of events?” he asks.

“Why would you?”

He laughs. “As soon as one of the women finds out you two went out together, they will all know, and the first thing my wife will ask me is if I knew you were taking Sonia to dinner. If I say yes and I didn’t tell her, she’ll have my head. If I say no and lie to her … well, I’d never lie to her, so I guess I’ll just have to take my ass-whooping if you want me to keep it to myself.”

I shrug. “I guess you can. Just don’t call it a date,” I insist.

“Not a date. Got it.”

“It’s a date,” I mutter.

“I know.” He grins.