style="font-size:15px;"> “I get the picture,” he interrupted before she could go on and name the “tons” of cows she’d been introduced to one by one. He glanced at the dashboard clock irritably. They were fashionably late, thanks to Jenny who had changed outfits more than half a dozen times before she was fit to be seen in public.
“Can I go say hi?”
“No.” He made sure the word boomed with authority. Under no circumstance was his little slip of a daughter walking up to those enormous and dangerous-looking creatures. One animal had horns sticking out of his head. That couldn’t be good. Adam hit the car horn in one long blast. Surely honking would startle them into getting out of the way.
Wrong. Instead of bolting, the cows focused on his car with pinpoint accuracy. Dozens upon dozens of brown eyes zeroed in on the newly waxed finish and plodded forward, as if mesmerized by the brightness. They created an impenetrable barrier across the road like soldiers on a march. One bold cow broke out of the pack and lapped the grill with its tongue.
What on earth? Adam hit the horn again, long and loud. That ought to scare the cow, or at least give it a reason to back off a few feet.
Wrong. Curious, the cow leaned over the hood as if trying to peer into the windshield. The cow seemed as big as a truck and he’d never seen anything in real life with such huge teeth. The mouth opened, that big head shook, a spot of drool splashed on the windshield. At the back of his mind, he remembered the televised images of bulls goring runners on the streets of Spain that had made it to the evening news.
“I wouldn’t honk again if I were you, Dad.” Jenny crossed her arms, bored in the backseat.
“Yeah, Dad. Do we have anything to eat in the car?” Julianna asked.
The enormous cow’s teeth flashed as he bit into the windshield wiper and tugged it away from the glass. It stood up at half-mast, a little crooked. Excited, other cows crowded in, trying to grab it. Tongues tugged at the side-view mirror, others licked at the paint, teeth clamped on the door handles.
Now what did he do? He saw tomorrow’s headlines in the little local paper. Sedan Demolished by Bovine Attack.
“Dad, do we have any granola bars?” Julianna giggled as a cow spotted her through the window and tried to lick at her through the glass with swipe after swipe of her big tongue. The car rocked slightly as cows bumped against it.
“You and Jenny ate them. Snacks will spoil your dinner.”
“It’s not for me.” Julianna laughed, the door popped open and the scent of sun-warmed animals and the sound of paint being licked off his new car filled the passenger compartment.
“Young lady, get back in here—” Too late. She was gone, mobbed by the huge creatures who licked at her face, grabbed hold of her pigtails and tugged on her shirt.
“Julianna!” Sheer terror shot through him. He lunged after her, caught short by the tight embrace of the seat belt. Adrenaline pumped through his system but her giggle lifted above the sound of shifting of hooves and his car being mauled.
The cows miraculously looked up and stopped attacking his vehicle. Someone knocked on his driver-side window. A woman with auburn locks and laughing blue eyes appeared through the bovine throng.
Cheyenne Granger.
“Get back, Shrek.” She approached the horned behemoth fearlessly and patted him on the nose. “I know it’s exciting to be out here on the road, but it’s not safe. I hope that windshield wiper isn’t bent.”
Contrite, the animal offered his nose for a petting.
Adam rolled down his window, hoping the fact that he had trouble breathing didn’t show. She affected him, there was no way to deny it. “I wasn’t sure what to do. Are the cows safe?”
“They are tame, but as you can see, not harmless if left to their own devices.” She shoved the windshield wiper into place. “I’ll give the Parnells a call. It looks as if Shrek took down a part of his fence. You like doing that, don’t you, buddy?”
The big black-and-white bull—yes, it was really a bull—gave a head toss and focused on the pink phone she’d pulled from her pocket. She was a vet for a reason. Her gentle confidence, her loving laugh as the cows crowded around her trying to grab her cell, the way she lit up with affection as she rubbed noses, scrubbed ears and moved aside for Julianna to join in.
“This is a regular occurrence?” His question drew one cow’s attention who came over and stuck her nose through the window. What did he do? “Shoo.”
“That’s not going to work, Dad.” Jenny’s seat belt clicked, the door whispered open and he was alone with the bovine. Rather damp lips that smelled like grass came dangerously close to his wristwatch. His oldest daughter came to the rescue with a gentle, “Come here, girl.”
He took notes in case there was a next time, as the three human females led the throng of cows away. His neurotransmitters fired haphazardly, which had to be the reason he couldn’t look away from Cheyenne. The side-view mirror framed her perfectly as she walked with her hand on the bull’s neck, chatting merrily to the animals and to his daughters.
What was it about the woman? Why couldn’t he look away?
She paused at the green truck parked behind him and rummaged around in the backseat. She was a splash of colors, auburn hair, sun-bronzed skin, green T-shirt, denim jeans and she claimed something deeper within him he could not name.
He didn’t remember getting out of the car. Suddenly he was standing on the pavement with the Wyoming wind ruffling his hair, squinting against the sun, spellbound by her brightness. Cheyenne Granger tossed her head, her chuckle a soft melodic sound that rippled through the air and seemed to make the daisies in the field stand up to take notice.
He couldn’t explain what ached deep inside as if he’d contracted organ failure. He could not breathe as Cheyenne marched right through the herd, a slip of a woman compared to those large and powerful animals. His daughters trailed in her wake, Julianna skipping, her face beaming. He hadn’t realized how happy staying the summer in Wyoming was making his girls. Jenny laughed, actually laughed right along with Cheyenne as the girl climbed down the embankment into the knee-high grass, a different child from the one she’d been a month ago.
“Cheyenne! I think Shrek loves me.” Julianna wrapped her arms around the bull’s broad chest.
Concern lurched through him as he launched forward, but the huge animal nibbled at one of Julianna’s pigtails affectionately. Adam skidded to a stop, feeling awkward on the side of the road.
“He is definitely sweet on you.” Cheyenne strong-armed the heavy bag to the ground and bent to move aside the wires of what used to be a working fence. “Jenny, looks like you’ve found some new friends, too.”
“As if.” The tween rolled her eyes, hiding a giggle as several cows vied for her affection. With her dark hair framing her face, she looked as sweet as the little girl she used to be and grown-up enough to show the hint of the woman she would become one day. Kind and thoughtful and gentle-hearted. He was grateful the Lord had led him here.
“All right, you bunch of troublemakers.” Humor rang like a song as Cheyenne tore open the bag and waded into the tall grasses. “Look what I have for you.”
