Free Finding Her Way Home by Linda Goodnight Page A

something unintelligible.
    After a thorough hand wash, Trace examined the ewe, talking quietly to both owners and sheep.
    â€œThat’s a big lamb for a young mother,” he said softly.
    â€œCan we save them?” The preteen Kylie was matter-of-fact, as Cheyenne supposed a farm girl had to be about livestock, but her eyes were glassy with leashed tears. “I’ve raised Betsy from a lamb. She took grand champion at the fair this year.”
    From his position on his knees leaning over the ewe, Trace winked at the young girl. “Let’s turn this fat lady over on her back and see what we can do to help. Kylie, you and Zoey keep her calm and quiet while I do the hard stuff. Okay?”
    Kylie nodded, ponytail bobbing as she helped the vet reposition the ewe. Their ministrations were met with a plaintive baaa , but in minutes, Dr. Bowman had somehow done what neither theewe nor her owners could accomplish. A wet lamb slipped into his hands. He gave the infant a quick swing by its front feet and placed the slick body on the hay in front of the mother. When the lamb began to wiggle, they breathed a collective sigh.
    â€œIt’s a girl,” Kylie said. “Betsy’s little troublemaker.”
    â€œTypical female,” Trace teased, hands on his hips as he grinned around at the gathered group of females.
    â€œBe careful, Doc, you’re surrounded.”
    Hands raised in surrender, he laughed, teeth flashing white against tanned skin and a five-o’clock scruff. Trace Bowman was at home in his own skin. And he had an ease with people that Cheyenne could respect. She’d had that once. Getting it back wouldn’t be easy.
    â€œBefore I get in too much trouble, I’d better finish my job and get out of here,” he said.
    Following a further exam of both ewe and lamb, instinct took over and the lamb began to nurse.
    A warm, peaceful feeling spread through Cheyenne’s body. She was glad she’d come along. There was something beautiful and confirming in seeing a living creature born. And if there was one thing she needed, it was to find the wonder of living again instead of the ugliness.
    â€œLet’s go inside and have some pie and coffee before you go,” Michelle Parker said to Trace.
    â€œI’m staying out here with Betsy, Mom,” the girl named Kylie said.
    â€œMe, too, Daddy.” Zoey remained beside the ewe. “Can I stay with Kylie?”
    Trace lifted an eyebrow toward the preteen, who nodded. “She can come when I do. I’ll look out for her.”
    â€œAll right, then.” To Mrs. Parker he said, “Coffee sounds good.”
    He tossed equipment back into a bag. Cheyenne stooped to help and was rewarded with a grin. Her heart flip-flopped.
    â€œWe’ll pass on the pie,” Trace was saying. “No dinner yet.”
    â€œI can fix you a sandwich,” the pastor’s wife said as they all fell into step and headed toward the house.
    â€œThanks, but I promised Cheyenne and Zoey one of Big Bob’s Angus burgers and curly fries.”
    Cheyenne blinked. He had?
    Behind Michelle’s back, he winked at Cheyenne, and even though she quickly averted her gaze, a glimmer of sunshine settled inside her chest. She’d already been feeling mellow and now she was actually relaxed enough to enjoy herself. What a concept.
    As they entered the kitchen through the back door, the pastor’s wife turned her attention to Cheyenne. “You must be new in town. I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”
    â€œBrand-new, as of about a week ago.”
    â€œAnd Trace already has you making after-hours calls.” The woman made a teasing tsk-tsk in Trace’s direction. “Slave driver.”
    He scraped a chair away from a gleaming oak table and sat down, comfortable as though he came here often. “I told her when I hired her that I’m a desperate man.”
    True, but she hadn’t believed him.