nodded. “Thanks. Chey, everything’ll be fine.”
Cheyenne patted her sister’s hand. I’m not so sure.
Chapter Three
Dane Gideon stepped through the barn door and switched on the overhead light. The remaining Holstein heifer could be inoculated and released into the pasture.
No problem. He would have it done before the boys came home from school.
Not until he had the calf cornered in a stall did he recognize the little white bell on her otherwise black face. Too late, he heard the deep, rumbling moo of an angry mama cow behind him. Gordy.
He should have waited.
She lowered her head and came at him, her huge nostrils snorting so forcefully her breath swept dust and particles of straw into a tiny cloud at her feet.
Dane jumped up the side of a nearby stall, grabbed the ladder and climbed to the loft. He turned in time to see Starface skittering out of the barn ahead of her indignant mother.
“Should’ve sold that ornery animal years ago,” he muttered, slowly descending the ladder.
Gordy hurried after her baby, ears perked forward, her long, Holstein body all bulk and bones in the reflection of the afternoon sunlight.
Dane reached the barn floor in time to hear a loud whistle, followed by a “Yeehaw!” from outside.
He ran to the door to find Starface running back toward him, with Gordy in hot pursuit. He scrambled backward against a concrete stand, leaped atop it.
Another whistle pierced the gloom of the barn. Metal slapped wood—the slamming of the barn lot gate—then came another whistle.
Gordy waggled her head at Dane, big ears fluttering as she turned to investigate the sound.
“Cook? Is that you?” Dane called.
A familiar, broad-shouldered form came striding inside, dreadlocks bouncing, thumbs hooked over the belt loops of his jeans. “Don’t you want to vaccinate Starface before—”
“Gavin, get back!”
Gordy lowered her head and charged as Gavin scrambled sideways. Dane jumped down and ran after the cow.
“Gordy, over here!” He waved his arms over his head. “You old battleaxe, get away!”
Gavin leaped over the fence in one youthful motion.
Gordy swerved and rammed Dane with her shoulder. He hit the ground as she swerved away, kicking out with her foot to land a solid blow to his left thigh.
A loud grunt echoed in his head as he fell against the fence. The gate swung back and a hand grabbed his shirt, then jerked him, half dragging, half lifting him, out of the lot. As soon as he was clear, Gavin slammed the gate in the cow’s face.
Dane slumped against the outside of the fence while Gavin shoved the gate latch home.
“You okay?” Gavin asked, bending over him.
Dane gritted his teeth against the pain in his thigh. “I’ll be fine.”
“Sorry, I forgot Willy said Gordy had a mean streak.” Gavin gestured over his shoulder toward the cow and calf. “I know better.”
Dane caught sight of Gavin’s blood-streaked sleeve. “You’re bleeding.”
Gavin held his arm up and inspected a small cut at the base of his wrist. “I’ll get that taken care of. Guess that old cow hasn’t seen many black guys with locks like mine, huh?”
Dane rubbed his thigh. “I don’t think that had anything to do with it.”
“Do you want to vaccinate the calf while we’ve got her in the lot?”
“Thanks, Gavin, but I think we’ll let them go this time.”
“When’re you going to start calling me Blaze?”
“When it becomes your legal name. What are you doing out of school early?”
“Last hour’s PE, and I didn’t have dress-out clothes, so I told the teacher I’d be good and come straight here if he let me leave early. Why do you have such a fuss with a silly ol’ nickname? Everybody else calls me Blaze.”
“Good for them. We’ll find you some exercise clothes and shoes tonight.”
“Guess you know I’ll be sixteen in three weeks.”
“Yes. What do you want for your birthday?”
“To quit school.”
“Sorry, no way. Anything else?”
“It’ll be legal then. A guy doesn’t have to go after his sixteenth birthday.”
“He does if he plans to stay here at the ranch.”
Gavin blinked at Dane. “You mean I have to keep going to school just to stay here?”
“That’s the deal. Gavin, you’re still bleeding.” An inch-long cut should have stopped bleeding by now, unless it was deeper than it appeared. The end of Gavin’s sleeve was soaked red.
The teenager pressed his fingers over the wound. “Nobody told me about that rule when I agreed to come here.”
“You may find there are a lot of things around here nobody told you about.”
Gavin gave a disgusted grunt.
“Come on,” Dane said. “Let’s get you to the house and clean your—”
“Okay, fine, then there’s something else I want for my birthday.”
“I hope it’s Gordyburgers,” Dane muttered, still aching from the kick.
“Call me by my chosen name.”
Dane put a hand on Gavin’s shoulder and nudged him toward the house. “I don’t understand the logic of calling yourself Blaze when you aren’t an arsonist.”
“Something my daddy taught me.”
“I thought he was a veterinarian.”
Gavin gave Dane an impatient look.
“Sorry. What did your father teach you?”
“To take the sting out of the name. Beat ’em to the punch.”
“Did kids at school call you names?”
“That’s for me to know. Why’re you limping?”
“Gordy kicked me.”
“Better get some ice on it.”
