Montana Cowboy (Big Sky Mavericks Book 2) (14 page)

"The last thing she told me was my case is almost as hopeless as I am. So, despite what Paul thinks, I doubt the breakthrough is anything major."

"But you'll call and ask."

"Of course. Are we done talking? Can we go home now?"

She looked at her watch. "Oh, shoot. I forgot about my chores. I'll be doing them with a headlamp—especially if any new babies have shown up while I was gone."

"Babies? Alpaca babies?"

"Cutest little devils on the planet. Once you see one, you're hooked for life."

He gave her bottom a little squeeze. "I raise cows in case you didn't notice."

"Your foreman raises cows for you," she said, saucily, just before she spun about and dashed to grab her beach bag. "You're nobody's cowboy, remember? You told me that the first time we met."

He didn't contradict her, but her words bothered him more than he cared to admit. Yes, he'd broadcast his disclaimer for all to hear, but what if his was the proverbial Shakespearean protesteth too mucheth? The longer he lived on the ranch, the more time he spent with Serena. The more time he spent with Serena, observing the joy she got from working with her animals, the more he wondered what he'd been denying himself all this time...and why?

He owned a ranch he left in the hands of others so he could do what? Dress in expensive suits, eat rich food, and drink too much? For what? The chance to elect someone of dubious moral character to a place of prominence in state politics?

Why did he think that was worth his time and energy?

He had no idea.

G
etting away from Paul's place turned out to take longer than Austen wanted. When Serena went inside to say their good-byes, Mia ambushed her and dragged her into the master bedroom to reassure an overly emotional Bailey that she and Mia hadn't come on too strongly at their impromptu tea party.

Austen had no idea what was happening at this hen party, and he didn't really care as long as nobody said anything to spoil his chance of spending another night in Serena's arms.

Paul was on the phone with his ex, so Austen decided to use the time to clean up. He washed the chlorine out of his hair in the outside shower, and then changed into the jeans and T-shirt he'd brought in his swim bag.

When he carried his wet towel and damp trunks to the car, his nephews followed, arguing over who would get to drive the Beamer first.

"I'm older, I'll have my permit before you," Hunter said.

Mark shouldered his taller cousin, causing Hunter to stumble. "Uncle Austen's been letting me drive the quad on his ranch. I'm a better driver than you are."

"Dodging cows maybe. You don't know how to drive on streets."

"Do so."

Austen grabbed them with both arms. "Dudes, I lease this car. It's going back to the dealer when the lease is up. Neither of you will be driving by then."

The two were still grumbling when Serena trotted up. "Girl stuff. Sorry." She dropped her beach tote on the floor and slid into the leather seat beside him. "See you at school, guys."

Austen started the engine. The low, elegant rumble reminded him of what he did like about his life in Helena. Fast cars, influential people, feeling respected, important. He'd had goals, a highly focused agenda, and a definite purpose—even if the rationale behind his job was now suspect. What was it like to have a higher calling?

"Did you always know you wanted to work with kids?"

Serena's head was back, her eyes closed. The cooler evening air made the locks of auburn hair that had come loose from her scrunchy dance about her face and shoulders. "No. I was a history major until Mom took me aside one day and said, 'You know, dear, sugar daddies come with all sorts of sticky strings. If you were hoping one would magically appear and provide for you, I wouldn't count on it. Better to have a career that allows you to provide for yourself.' The next day I changed my major."

He could almost see her light bulb moment, as his dad called it. That a-ha moment of illumination for him was the feeling in his chest that told him he felt things for this woman he'd never felt—or allowed himself to feel—before.

She shifted in the seat to look at him. "What about you? Did you grow up asking Santa for Armani and a briefcase so you could play lawyer?"

He laughed so hard she had to steady the steering wheel to keep the car from drifting onto the shoulder. "God, no. I wanted to be..." He had to think a moment. "I wanted to be a smoke jumper once, but I did some volunteer search and rescue stuff in high school, and cleaning up after a forest fire pretty much killed that idea. Our crew came across a smoldering cabin. Luckily, the people made it out, but their pets didn't."

She touched his thigh to comfort him. His errant libido took that as an invitation to play.

Dead pets. Think dead pets. Down, boy.

"I was in search and rescue, too. Until I had a systemic reaction to poison oak. Half my body swelled up like the Elephant Man. It was pretty awful."

They'd reached her driveway. As he turned in, she asked, "Drop me at the barn, would you?" Her tone gave him the indication she planned to do her chores alone.

Beau loped out to meet the car then paced them all the way to the barn, barking the whole way. "No sneaking in while he's on the job, is there?"

"None. Which is one reason I got him. He takes care of the animals and watches out for me, too." She gathered up her bag and unlatched her seat belt. "But his barking drives me mad, so I'm really looking forward to the new gate you asked Paul to install. Paul told me tonight his crew will be bringing it out next week."

He stopped her from opening the door. "I'd like to stick around awhile. Can I help?"

"With chores?"

"Whatever needs doing."

She looked toward the pens. "It'll be messy."

"Won't be the first time." In the half-light of evening, her smile seemed more nostalgic than amused. Why? Had something happened to make her think their time together was ending?

"I'll never forget the look on your face when you realized you'd crashed butt-first into a 'paca potty." She opened the door and hopped out. "I can always use the help. I might even have a pair of gloves that will fit you. Jason Briggs left them here the other day."

"You can leave your swim bag here until we're done."

She hesitated half-a-second then dropped the bag onto the floor of the passenger seat. "Let's do this."

A minute later, they stood side-by-side at the gate of the smallest of the four pens. Only five alpacas were present, but the rest of the herd milled around nearby. From the moment Austen stepped onto the scene, he'd sensed something important was happening.

"Is that one sick?" he asked, pointing to a mocha-colored female standing off to one side. She obviously had something going. Her breathing was loud and purposeful.

"Penny's in labor," Serena stated. "This is her first. I was hoping we had another day or two. She should be fine, but I'll have to watch in case it's breech."

She looked at her watch. "This might take a while. If you have something better to do..."

"I don't." He probably had a million things he could be doing but he didn't want to be any place but at Serena's side. Funny that.

She took a breath and let it out. "Okay. We're gonna need some gear. Two bag chairs. My camping stuff is in the tack room just inside the walk-in door of the barn. You get those and I'll bring the wine and duct tape."

"Duct tape? What do you need that for?" He looked at the sweet little animal huffing and puffing like a woman in labor. He couldn't picture a single usage that wouldn't hurt like hell.

Serena's laugh startled him and made the other alpacas start to hum. "Sorry," she apologized to the herd. To Austen, she touched his bare arm comfortingly. "When Dad bought our first alpacas, four were pregnant. The breeder told him, 'When the first one drops, this is what I want you to do. Get a chair, a glass of wine and a roll of duct tape.' Dad had the same reaction you did. He looked horrified. The breeder explained that alpacas usually have slow, uneventful deliveries but there will come a point—or three—when you're convinced something has gone wrong and she needs you to intervene. So, you wrap the duct tape around your legs in the chair to keep you from
helping
Mother Nature."

Austen felt his shoulders relax. "Okay. I can handle that."

She turned to leave. "Unless the baby is breach. Then, we're in for a long night."

Austen accomplished his duties quickly. Much too quickly. After he opened the second chair and positioned it beside the first, he looked around and realized he was alone in a pen with fretful alpacas. He felt like a voyeur on a playground. A male stranger, an outsider. He didn't belong.

Suddenly, a warm snort of breath snuffled beside his ear.

"Betty Lou," he said, realizing in surprise he actually recognized the face. "How are you, little girl?"

He put his arms behind his back as he'd seen Serena do and leaned forward. Betty Lou thought a moment then did the same. Their noses touched and he felt the silliest, most unexpected rush of tenderness.

Her welcoming acceptance seemed to break the ice. Soon others came closer to sniff and nibble at his pant legs.

He petted and ruffled a few feathery crowns. He wished he knew their names, which seemed foolish since he doubted they knew their names. Serena credited every animal with more intelligence than Austen figured they deserved. But he was grateful Betty Lou didn't hold any ill will about the last time they met.

"So how'd that whole dating thing work for you, Betty?" he asked, realizing too late his voice carried in the near dark.

A laugh erupted in the barn. "She's pregnant. That's all that matters."

He turned to see Serena wrestling with a lamp stand and dashed to her side to help. "You said a flashlight."

She grabbed his shoulder for support when she tripped over an extension cord. "Forgot to buy batteries. Darn it. But this will work." She nodded over her shoulder. "The wine is in the cooler."

A minute or so later, she completed her set up and trained the light on the animals. "There's our girl. How are you doing, Penny Lane?"

"Penny Lane?"

"I bought her from a breeder in Missouri. He's a big Beatles fan. All of his animals have some reference to a song title or album." Her grin made his heart do a back flip. "My two favorites were a male and a female named Ob-la-di and Ob-la-da."

She was beyond beautiful in this element, he realized. Joy and excitement animated her face.

He kissed her, fast and with meaning.

"Oh, my. What was that for?"

"You are the most real person I've ever met. There is a copious absence of realness where I come from. I didn't know how much I missed this until I started to see the world through your eyes."

"What a nice thing to say. I don't get it, but I like it." She hugged him then turned back to business. "Do you mind keeping an eye on the action while I run to the house? I need my log and my phone so I can record this."

She disappeared before he could ask for more explicit instructions. Hopefully standing around looking dumb was enough.

"Bring carrots for my friends," he called after her.

The stillness of evening settled comfortably like the dying embers of a fire. The animals milled around, grazing a bit, watchful and on edge. Serena's comment about filming the birth made him pull out his phone.

Three missed calls.

"Three?" He tapped the phone icon to see who called. "Sheri. Weird."

He started to return her call when Penny suddenly gave a loud grunt and dropped to her forelegs, as if in prayer. Something was happening, Austen realized. He shoved his phone into his hip pocket and moved the light stand a couple of feet to the left.

He could see the animal's back side clearly for the first time. Two grayish looking hooves protruded in a way that made his stomach heave.

"Holy sh-mokes."

"Good save," a voice said from the dark. "Your mom would be proud of you."

"Thank God, you're back. Look. Look at that."

"Here." She handed him a bottle of beer. "I decided it's too hot for wine. She's doing great. Aren't you, Penny? Not breach. That's perfect."

He twisted off the cap and choked down half of the ice-cold carbonation before taking a breath. "If by perfect you mean expelling a gray, slimy alien, then I guess you're right."

Her mirth made him blush. She chuffed his arm. "Let me guess. This is your first birth."

"I didn't grow up on a farm."

"I know. That's what makes this even more special for me. My first Montana birth with my own herd and you're here to share it with me. I'm happy." She removed a black camera bag from around her neck and opened it to reveal a compact video camera. "I charged this last night when I thought she was giving birth. False alarm. I didn't know you were such an exhibitionist, Penny Lane."

Once the camera began to roll, Penny's grunts and squawks became more frequent. She stood on all fours again and turned in a tight circle, the foal dangling closer and closer to the ground.

"Shouldn't you put something down to catch him?"

"Cria land on the hard ground in the field."

True. This was nature at work. Real world circle of life. The kind of stuff he'd managed to avoid for most of his life.

Serena got up and moved to a better vantage point, which allowed him to observe her watching the birth. He realized suddenly her name fit. She was serene. Utterly at peace with this process and her place in the world she'd created.

Emotion built behind his eyes—a dry burning sensation extremely alien to him.
Cry? Me? Impossible. I'm Austen Zabrinski, Chief Hard-Ass of Staff.
That was what some members of Crandy's team had called him. Certainly a lack of empathy had played a crucial role in his connection to Jenny Paulson. She could have been his salvation if he hadn't had his head so far up Crandy's ass.

But here he was, in a holding pen surrounded by alpacas, moved to tears watching the woman he...he'd grown to care—

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.
The woman I love. I love her, dammit.