We sit in comfortable silence, until I see a moving rock.Wait. What?
I look again and notice a calf on the ground.
“Rhys.” I place my hand on his forearm and point in the direction of the poor thing.
“Morgan,” his voice is calm, which soothes my building nerves, “Don’t worry, it’s probably just rejected, we can bottle feed it.”
“Really?” Hope swells in my chest.
Rhys nods, and we’re pulling up to the calf. It’s trying to stand but it’s far too weak. “I’m going to put it in the back. Esky, front.”
Rhys, I don’t want that fucking thing near me, has been training Esky. So, with those two words she is on my lap.
Once the calf is in place and he is back behind the wheel, he picks up the radio. “Can I have some milk made up for a poddy?”
A quick rodger gets said back through and I have to ask, “Poddy?”
“Rejected calf.”
I look into the back to watch it. Her big sad brown eyes look at me and I’m instantly in love. Reaching out I pet its head, “I’m going to call it Buttons.”
“Buttons? No, wait no, you’re not naming it. We’ll get it healthy, and it will go back to the herd.”
“Well, I just did. Buttons.” The calf licks its nose. “Look, even she likes the name.”
“You’re not naming it. It isn’t another pet.”
“Yes, it is.” I turn to face the front but check on it from time to time.
“Morgan, it’s bad enough you have forced the dingo, now you want me to keep a calf?”
“Yep.”
“No.”
We argue back and forth until we pull up to the patch of gravel between Rhys’s and Brents.
“I thought you two finally fucked, so the bickering would stop.” Beau has a way with words.
“She named the calf. We’re not keeping the calf.” He slams his door and rounds the back.
I do the same. “Yes, we are.”
“And when you leave?” he snaps.
My hand pauses midair. Right, I’m leaving. I’m not staying. That has a sobering effect. I withdraw my hand, resting it back down to my side and take a step back. My eyebrows furrow while I shake my head. “No, you’re right. What was I thinking?”
Rhys and Beau look at me shocked that I backed down and easily at that. Beau smacks Rhys up the side of the head, points to me and says, “Fix it.”
“Watch it, I’m your boss. Plus, she agreed, so we’re no longer bickering, doesn’t that make you happy?” he gestures with his hands, while I stand there shocked that Beau jumped to my defence.
Brent walks over to us. “You might be his but I’m yours, what is happening?” He looks between all of us and then his eyes rest on the calf, “This the poddy?”
“The very one.” I pet its head. Because it’s too cute not to, and I’m trying to act like things are fine. Because they are, right?
Brent points to the homestead. “Molly is showing Tia how to make a bottle.”
“How’s that going?”
