already?”
“No.”
With no further advice forthcoming, Cal tried again, telling himself to keep his temper in check no matter how vexing Sophie might be. He squeezed lightly, increasing the pressure until Mabel objected once more. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he tried again. Surely if a child could milk the beast, he could.
Ducking his head down, he peered under the cow, trying to get a look at what he was doing wrong. He tried squeezing a different teat in his fist, and as Mabel hollered, a sharp pain exploded in Cal’s temple. He toppled onto the wooden floor, hay scratchy under his palms as he scuttled like a crab out of the stall.
The arched wooden ceiling spun in his field of vision, and he felt the planks of the floor thunk beneath his head. He’d meant to stand up, but gravity apparently had other ideas. A moment later Sophie leaned over him with eyes so wide he could see white all around her irises.
She vanished, and Cal tried to call to her, but couldn’t make any sounds come out of his mouth. The pain in his temple radiated over his skull and down his shoulder. He could hear Finnigan barking very loudly, and the dog’s breath was hot on his cheek. Cal closed his eyes.
“Cal! Can you hear me?”
He tried to say yes, but it sounded strangely garbled. He looked up at Jim, whose face was pinched. Then it was dark again.
“No! Keep your eyes open. Cal! Focus.” Jim pressed a soft wad of material against Cal’s temple.
It was the sound of Jim’s voice and the warmth of his hand against Cal’s head that kept him tethered to consciousness. Despite the pain, he leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Cal!”
He opened his eyes again. Jim was breathing heavily, and Cal was faintly aware of muffled sobbing nearby. Concentrating, he got a few words out. “Is Sophie all right?”
The sobbing grew in intensity. Cal tried to sit up, but Jim held him down with firm hands.
“Just stay right there.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Sophie, you have to get Adam. Mrs. O’Brien should be here soon. You and Adam wait for her by the house, all right? It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Sophie’s footsteps faded, Finnigan barking after her. There was something wet dripping down Cal’s neck. His fingers probed his temple and came away bloody. “Huh.”
Jim took Cal’s hand, squeezing. “Don’t.” He applied pressure once more to the wound. “Looks like Mabel got you good. Don’t worry, you’ll be right as rain in no time.”
“’M not worried. You’re here.”
Brushing back the hair from Cal’s forehead, Jim exhaled, his voice tight. “God, Cal.”
“Mmm.” Before Cal could organize his brain to tell Jim everything was fine, Mrs. O’Brien bustled in.
“I hear someone’s had a wee accident.” She bent over Cal, clucking her tongue.
“We need to get Gerald. Has he left for work?” Jim asked.
“You know if you’d just get a telephone, we could call him. He said he didn’t have any early appointments, so I might be able to catch him. I’ll ride back straight away.”
“Take my truck. The keys are in the ignition.”
Mrs. O’Brien frowned. “Dear, you know I can’t drive.”
“It’s just down the road. Please, we have to hurry.” His voice rose in agitation.
“All right. I’ll be careful. Gerald can drive back.”
Jim nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. O’Brien. I’m sorry to put you out.”
“Don’t be silly, boy.” She bent and gave Cal’s arm a squeeze. “Good thing you have a hard head, eh? Back in a jiffy.”
As Cal waited, flitting in and out of full awareness, Jim kneeled at his side, touching him every so often with fleeting movements—fingertips on his cheek, a palm on his thigh. Some of the fuzziness began to recede from Cal’s mind, and the urge to sleep lessened. He cleared his throat. “Don’t worry.”
Jim huffed. “Of course I’m worried. It could kill you. Lord. If…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
Small
“No.”
With no further advice forthcoming, Cal tried again, telling himself to keep his temper in check no matter how vexing Sophie might be. He squeezed lightly, increasing the pressure until Mabel objected once more. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he tried again. Surely if a child could milk the beast, he could.
Ducking his head down, he peered under the cow, trying to get a look at what he was doing wrong. He tried squeezing a different teat in his fist, and as Mabel hollered, a sharp pain exploded in Cal’s temple. He toppled onto the wooden floor, hay scratchy under his palms as he scuttled like a crab out of the stall.
The arched wooden ceiling spun in his field of vision, and he felt the planks of the floor thunk beneath his head. He’d meant to stand up, but gravity apparently had other ideas. A moment later Sophie leaned over him with eyes so wide he could see white all around her irises.
She vanished, and Cal tried to call to her, but couldn’t make any sounds come out of his mouth. The pain in his temple radiated over his skull and down his shoulder. He could hear Finnigan barking very loudly, and the dog’s breath was hot on his cheek. Cal closed his eyes.
“Cal! Can you hear me?”
He tried to say yes, but it sounded strangely garbled. He looked up at Jim, whose face was pinched. Then it was dark again.
“No! Keep your eyes open. Cal! Focus.” Jim pressed a soft wad of material against Cal’s temple.
It was the sound of Jim’s voice and the warmth of his hand against Cal’s head that kept him tethered to consciousness. Despite the pain, he leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Cal!”
He opened his eyes again. Jim was breathing heavily, and Cal was faintly aware of muffled sobbing nearby. Concentrating, he got a few words out. “Is Sophie all right?”
The sobbing grew in intensity. Cal tried to sit up, but Jim held him down with firm hands.
“Just stay right there.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Sophie, you have to get Adam. Mrs. O’Brien should be here soon. You and Adam wait for her by the house, all right? It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Sophie’s footsteps faded, Finnigan barking after her. There was something wet dripping down Cal’s neck. His fingers probed his temple and came away bloody. “Huh.”
Jim took Cal’s hand, squeezing. “Don’t.” He applied pressure once more to the wound. “Looks like Mabel got you good. Don’t worry, you’ll be right as rain in no time.”
“’M not worried. You’re here.”
Brushing back the hair from Cal’s forehead, Jim exhaled, his voice tight. “God, Cal.”
“Mmm.” Before Cal could organize his brain to tell Jim everything was fine, Mrs. O’Brien bustled in.
“I hear someone’s had a wee accident.” She bent over Cal, clucking her tongue.
“We need to get Gerald. Has he left for work?” Jim asked.
“You know if you’d just get a telephone, we could call him. He said he didn’t have any early appointments, so I might be able to catch him. I’ll ride back straight away.”
“Take my truck. The keys are in the ignition.”
Mrs. O’Brien frowned. “Dear, you know I can’t drive.”
“It’s just down the road. Please, we have to hurry.” His voice rose in agitation.
“All right. I’ll be careful. Gerald can drive back.”
Jim nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. O’Brien. I’m sorry to put you out.”
“Don’t be silly, boy.” She bent and gave Cal’s arm a squeeze. “Good thing you have a hard head, eh? Back in a jiffy.”
As Cal waited, flitting in and out of full awareness, Jim kneeled at his side, touching him every so often with fleeting movements—fingertips on his cheek, a palm on his thigh. Some of the fuzziness began to recede from Cal’s mind, and the urge to sleep lessened. He cleared his throat. “Don’t worry.”
Jim huffed. “Of course I’m worried. It could kill you. Lord. If…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
Small
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