Free The Reluctant Cowgirl by Christine Lynxwiler Page A

“And some things change too much.”
    Elyse glanced across at her. “Worried about spending nights at the house?”
    “Who, me? Worry?” Crystal couldn’t believe the quaver in her voice.
    As they turned off the highway onto the gravel road, Elyse cleared her throat. “You know you’re welcome to keep staying with me.”
    Crystal nodded. “I know. But Mama really wants someone in the house while they’re gone.”
    “Do you want me to stay there and you bunk at my place? Who would know?”
    A smile tilted Crystal’s lips. “That’s incredibly nice. But I’d know. And Luke would know. And your newest family member would definitely know. She tolerates me, but if you weren’t there, she’d go berserk.”
    “Can you do it?”
    Crystal considered her sister’s question carefully. She hadn’t spent a night in the house since Cami died. At first, she’d escaped to the barn loft apartment. Then despite what she’d claimed to her mom about just following through with plans, for all intents and purposes, she’d run away to New York. “I can sleep on the couch. As long as I don’t have to go in our room.”
    “I don’t see why you should have to.”
    “Is it still the same?”
    Elyse glanced over at her. “What?”
    “The room. Did anyone clean it out?”
    Elyse shook her head. “Mama said you’d do it when you were ready.”
    “Hmph. I’m never going to be ready.”
    “Never is a long time,” Elyse said.
    ***
    The cow bawled again pitifully and thrashed around on the grass.
    Jeremy groaned, too. When he’d happened upon the cow in the process of giving birth, he hadn’t been worried. There’d be hundreds of calves born this spring on the ranch. But there’d be one less if things didn’t turn around soon for this one.
    He knelt down beside the laboring cow. “Hang in there, little mama. We’ll get some help.” He snagged the phone from his back pocket.
    Nacho whinnied.
    “If this were the Old West, I’d send you back to the ranch for help,” Jeremy muttered to the horse. He skimmed through his address book. How had he ended up not getting any of the McCord employees’ numbers? In the last ten months, he’d gotten so distracted, it was a wonder he could run his own cattle-less ranch, much less help anyone else. At least he had thought to exchange numbers with Crystal. He scrolled down to her name and hit SEND.
    “Hello?”
    “Crystal, it’s Jeremy. Are you home from the airport yet?”
    “We just drove in. What’s up?”
    “We’ve got a cow birthing about half a mile from the house right next to the old caverns. She’s having a hard time. Do you have Slim’s number?”
    Silence. “Slim doesn’t have a phone, actually. I have Joe’s and Mike’s, but they’re all working out by the Dewey place. What do you need?”
    “Someone to call the vet.” He glanced back at the cow, thrashing around and trying to get to her feet. “And in the meantime, another pair of hands. She’s already delivered the water bag, but I’m afraid the calf’s stuck.”
    “I’ll call Doc Johnson, throw on some jeans, and be right there.” She hung up before he could say anything.
    Ten minutes later, a huge cloud of dust on the horizon caught his attention. Within seconds, the old farm truck emerged from the grayness, careening wildly across the pasture. He pushed to his feet and took Nacho’s reins in his hand. The horse was trained not to bolt, but at the speed that truck was coming, all bets were off. “Whoa, brother,” he whispered softly. “She’s in a hurry.”
    He had to give her credit for slowing down before she got close to the cow, coasting to a stop fifty feet away.
    She dragged an old brown leather bag out of the truck and took off toward him at a run. “How is she?”
    “Hanging in there. But no real progress. Is the vet on the way?”
    Her delicate shoulders lifted as she led the way toward the cow.
    “He was out of the office. I left the information with his emergency