“Will I get her back.”
“As soon as she is old enough to eat and drink on her own. I’ll make sure of it. Do you have a name for her?”
Widow Banks thought for a moment. “I’ll call her Bossy, too.”
“That’s a fine name. We need to get the carcass taken care of. The scent of blood will draw every wildcat in the area to the farm. Wolves too.”
“I’ll take care of it,” the farmhand said.
“Be sure to bury or burn the straw,” he warned them. He removed his leather apron. “Would it be alright if I rinsed everything at your water pump?”
“Of course. It is right over there.”
Once his apron was washed, he washed his instruments and rolled them up in the leather. He’d dry them once he returned to his room at the livery. He tied the wet apron to the back of his saddle and went to retrieve his doctoring bag.
Widow Banks was busy hitching a horse to a small cart. “Hank will go with you to Missus Taylor’s. The calf can ride in this.” She patted the side of the cart. It was filled with straw. Hank laid the calf on its side and quickly tied its legs before placing it in the cart.
Christopher was grateful because he didn’t want to be carrying a calf on his lap.
“Again, Mrs. Banks, I’m so sorry about Bossy.”
“Dr. Spaulding, I said I don't blame you none. I just don't know what I am going to do.”
“I will go visit the pastor on your behalf and see if the community can assist with your needs.”
Widow Banks smiled at him. “That is right kind of you, doctor. I can't always get into town, so I appreciate you doing that for me.”
The ride to the Taylor farm was short, and they were more than gracious to foster the calf. Christopher watched as they placed the calf near the barnyard. As soon as it started bleating, several of the mother cows called back. One walked over and sniffed the calf before licking it. He smiled because he knew the calf would be taken care of by the herd.
“Won’t you stay for supper, Doc?” Millie asked once the herd moved into the large barn.
“Thank you, but no. I need to get home. It has been a long night; I have one more stop to make, and I need to get home. I appreciate the offer, though.” He waved his goodbyes and headed towards the path that would take him by the river.
The water had receded and was moving calmly along the shore. What a difference since the last time he was there. He forgot to ask Millie if the women had a chance to visit Lauren yet. On his way home he visited the parish and spoke to the pastor's sister about what occurred at the widow’s farm. Bea said she would reach out to the community and see what they could do for her. That lifted his spirits. People in Last Chance cared about each other. They stepped up when someone needed assistance.
He was glad that although he didn't get married in this town, he had relocated to a place that looked after their fellow man. By the time he returned to the livery and settled his horse for the evening, he was bone tired.
He longed to go see how Lauren was doing. He missed seeing her today, but she wasn’t far from his thoughts. He wondered if she would like to see the calf. Perhaps he could talk her into going for a ride after church to see it.
Mostly, he wanted to look in her face, stare into those eyes and make certain that she was in good health.
In good health? Good heavens, man! She wasn't a bovine.
His mind echoed that sentiment, bringing forth an image of her in supposed finery. Ever since she told him about her life in Philadelphia, he was beset by wishful thinking of seeing her in elegant gowns hosting a function of some sort. It wouldn't matter where the venue would be because whatever place she graced would be blessed by her appearance.,
Christopher thought his cheeks would burst into flames.Why was he thinking like that?
He recalled the way she fit perfectly in his arms when she cried, releasing some of the pain locked inside of her. He was pleased that she found comfort in him, and he wanted to make sure she didn’t suffer anymore.
Grabbing a bar of soap, he needed to clean himself from the filth of his occupation. He pumped cold water in a bucket and carried it over to a wooden tub in the corner of his room. It took several trips to fill the tub. He would have preferred hot water, but there wasn’t a means to heat it, and he wasn’t about to ask Dave at this late hour. As he filled the tub his mind drifted back to Lauren.
He thought as to why he had answered a mail-order groom ad in the newspaper. He could continue to lie to himself that it was only to get out of Virginia, which wasn't a lie but perhaps there was more to it than that. Though he wasn't upset that Millie had chosen to marry another man, but he still felt a small hint of disappointment that he wasn't married. He was 34 years old now. It was time to settle and start a family.
But how could he find a wife who will understand his work with animals? Who would not consider him to be a quack? Christopher got into the cold water and sat with his knees up to his chin in the wooden tub. A shiver ran up his spine, so he grabbed the soap and started to wash.
When he mentioned his occupation to Lauren, she hadn't laughed at him, and she seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say.Was that a good sign?Or was she simply being a good hostess? Christopher just didn't know. People were so complicated.
Animals weren't as complicated even though they couldn't talk. You could develop a relationship with them, and they simply wanted you to care for them back. With an animal, you knew just what to expect.
