Free Harvest Moon by Leigh Talbert Moore Page A

towel.
    “Thanks,” I whispered.
    “You can’t imagine how happy I am to see your eyes open, to hear you speak.”
    I nodded and looked down. I was wearing only my underwear and a t-shirt that must’ve been his. The coveralls were gone, and I didn’t see them anywhere in the room.
    He read my expression. “Oma was in the barn preparing for the second shift. She helped me change your clothes. They were covered with fluids and blood.”
    “Where are they now?”
    “She’s cleaning them, but I can get you something different to wear.”
    He stood and went to his drawers, pulling out a pair of coveralls that were so long, they’d fit me like a clown suit.
    “If you have some shorts, I could wear them to the dorm,” I said.
    He dug around and pulled out a dark pair of boxers and passed them to me. As he walked to the door, I asked. “What about the calf?”
    He stopped in the doorway and smiled. “You should see him. He’s fluffy and clean, and you were right. The mother ate the afterbirth. It was disgusting.”
    “How long was I out?”
    “A while, but Shubuta gave you medicine so you’d rest.” He held the door and looked down. “If you’d like, I’ll take you to see the calf before breakfast.”
    “Let me get dressed.”
    Using the mattress for leverage, I pushed my body into sitting position. Then I cried out in pain as I rotated my hips. Gallatin stepped back, and I saw his hand go into his pocket.
    “We checked you out. I don’t think anything’s broken,” he said. “I had to turn you to get you breathing again.”
    “My hip’s... really sore,” I gasped. “I wish I had some ibuprophen.”
    “I thought you might say that.” He pulled his hand out, and two white pills lay on his palm. “And you need a day off to rest.”
    Pain radiated through every part of my body so badly, I didn’t even hesitate to take the pills and the water he offered.
    “I thought I was going to die,” I said.
    “When that fluid went in your mouth and nose, I thought you might, too.”
    “Did you lift the calf off me? All by yourself?”
    He went back to the door and hesitated before speaking. “I should let you get dressed.”
    “Newborn calves weigh about a hundred pounds.”
    “I doubt he weighs that much.”
    “It felt like he did to me.”
    He started to leave, but again he paused. “Do you need help? I could get Oma.” I shook my head, and he nodded. “Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll walk you to the barn.”
    The shorts hung to my knees, but they were a nice change from our heavy canvass coveralls. I had to lean heavily on Gallatin’s arm as we walked, but he took it slow. I noticed he also shortened his strides to accommodate the difference in our heights. I appreciated his obvious care, but I was also puzzled by it.
    When we reached the back stall, I rounded the corner and then stopped. A little brown and white calf stood suckling his huge mother. The last time I’d seen him, he was in distress trying to push through a hole at least ten times too small for him. Now he stood in front of me, perfect.
    “I didn’t expect to feel so proud,” I whispered, leaning against the rail. Then I laughed at my silly damp eyes.
    Gallatin smiled. “I felt the same way.”
    “It’s silly. Isn’t it? Getting sentimental over a cow.”
    “I guess. But it’s nice, too. We did this.”
    “Well, I think she might have a different version of the story.”
    He reached over and rubbed my shoulder as I looked around the stall and saw the remnants of my accident. In one spot the hay was spread away from the floor, and I noted a place where Gallatin must’ve done CPR.
    “I do think he outweighs you,” he said.
    “Then he’s at least a hundred pounds.”
    I reached up and placed my hand on top of his still on my shoulder. The pain reliever was taking longer to kick in, and I appreciated the support. We continued to watch the little calf nestle against its mamma until the breakfast tone sounded,