Chapter 7

  After helping with the morning milking at Rose’s farm, Heath headed home to complete his own chores. He drove by the hayfields, noticing that Cash was up on the trailer by himself yet again. Heath growled. Gunner was supposed to be out there. This was the third day in a row that Gunner had ignored his responsibilities. It was getting to be too much. Heath was known for his patience and understanding, but this couldn't stand. With him helping Rose at the goat dairy, there was no room for anyone to shirk their duties.

  He drove up in front of Gunner’s house, the house Shane had just given him so he could go off by himself to the edge of the property. Heath understood Shane's need to be out with nature. Shane had always been like that, for as long as Heath could remember.

  Shane had earned his time away from the ranch. Since Austin had agreed to let him take several days off a week, Shane had completed three novels and was looking into getting them published. His mate, Montana, who had suffered so much, had been making a great deal of progress in her recovery and was already taking classes at the community college to study veterinary science, a skill that would come in quite handy on the ranch. And the two of them were working hard to make it all work, all while living off-grid, miles away from the center of the ranch.

  Heath stopped at the front door of Gunner’s house, shaking his head and looking at his feet.

  If there was one thing that Heath couldn't abide, it was laziness. Heath knocked on the door and waited. And waited. And waited. Gunner never came to the door. His motorcycle was in the driveway. So, unless he'd gotten a ride from someone else, he was inside, because God knew he wasn’t anywhere out working on the ranch.

  Heath gripped the doorknob and turned. It was unlocked. He believed in giving his brothers their privacy, and they all respected each other’s space, especially as adult men. But after weeks of flaking out and avoiding his chores, Heath just wasn't going to take it anymore.

  He walked inside the house and was immediately hit by the stench of rotting garbage. The door slid over a pizza box with stale pizza inside and a beer bottle tipped over on the ground. Dirty clothes, newspapers, unopened mail. It was all strewn about the house. Shane never kept his house this way. Heath almost felt as if he’d walked into a completely different building. Most of the furniture was the same. Shane hadn't taken much with him. But the layer of dust and garbage, the heavy stink of unwashed laundry, and an overflowing sink made it seem as if the house was being inhabited by a hoarder or a pack rat.

  He looked around the dining room and through to the kitchen. He glanced at the stairs that were covered in dirty laundry and muddy shoes and then turned into the living room. Heath tripped over another beer bottle that spilled stale liquid onto the hardwood floor and his boots. He swore under his breath and swore again when he found his youngest brother sleeping on the couch in his underwear at midday. The television was on and playing at low volume. The coffee table was covered in junk food packages. A pile of dirty magazines had been slid under the table. A wave of irritation and anger flooded Heath's senses.

  Gunner was supposed to be out helping the twins, and instead he was lying on the couch, hungover from a night of self-indulgence. Heath stepped over a bag of chips, his boot crunching on the crumbs on the ground, and forcefully tapped the couch with the toe of his steel-toe boot.

  “Wake up,” Heath said.

  Gunner only grumbled and turned over, pulling the throw pillow over his head.

  “Wake up,” Heath said more loudly.

  “There's no school today, Mom,” Gunner grumbled.

  “I'm not your mom, and you're not a little boy anymore, Gunner. It's time to get the hell out of bed.”

  Heath kicked the couch again, this time with more force. It startled Gunner awake, and he shot up to sitting, blinking his blurry eyes and smacking his lips.

  “What? What? Oh, it's you. What do you want?” Gunner's voice was thick with sleep and the aftereffects of too much booze.

  “You're supposed to be helping the twins out in the hayfield. What the hell are you doing? You haven't been doing your chores for weeks. I'm helping out at the Winter ranch. I can't keep picking up the slack for you, Gunner. You need to get your shit together, or we’re not going to be able to run this ranch the way it needs to be. You’re affecting everyone else, and you’re putting our entire operation at risk. What the hell has gotten into you?”

  “Leave me alone, Heath. You don't have a right to judge me. Get the hell out of my house.”

  “You only have this house because Shane was kind enough to give it to you. And guess what? After building his own cabin and writing three novels, he’s still showing up to do his chores when he is expected to. What are you doing to contribute? I don't think reading girlie magazines and drinking beer until all hours of the night is a worthy exchange for this house, this land, the food in your belly, or the money that goes into your bank account.”

  “This is my life. I have an inheritance just like everyone else, and I can do whatever I want with it.”

  “We're a pack. A family. Whatever one of us does affects the rest. You can't just take and take and take and expect there to be no consequences.”

  “I never chose any of this. I don't remember there ever being a vote as to how we were going to live our lives, so don't preach to me about how my actions affect everyone else.” Gunner stood, raising his voice. He pushed into Heath's space, getting right into his face.

  “Back off, Gunner,” Heath warned.

  “No. You back off. You came into my house, you woke me up, you’re preaching to me about what you believe in and what you think is right. You don't have a right to judge me. I'm not you. I'm me. I may be the youngest in the family, but I have rights too. And I am going to use them. Now, get out of my house.”

  “You need to get down to the hayfield. You are scheduled to work with the twins until they put it up in the barn!”

  “Get out, Heath!” Gunner yelled, pushing his brother again.

  The men were equally matched. Gunner was angry and hungover and ready for a fight. Heath was taken off guard by his brother’s physical reaction. His instinct told him to push back, and in anger and frustration, he did. Gunner stumbled over and fell onto the couch, but he was up again and swinging before Heath had a chance to block. Gunner’s fist slammed right into Heath's face. Heath wheeled backward and fell over the coffee table, spilling the dirty contents all over the floor and himself. He scrambled up. Seeing his brother's shocked face, Gunner hesitated. Heath expected him to apologize, but that was not what came out of his mouth.

  “I told you to get out,” Gunner said through clenched teeth. Heath stared at his brother with total bewilderment as he climbed to his feet. He didn't even recognize him.

  “What happened to you? You are not acting like a Wilde.”

  “I get to decide what a Wilde is.”

  Heath made a step toward his brother. He didn't want to fight. This wasn't right, no matter the cause.

  “This isn’t over,” Heath said, stepping to the front door.

  He heard Gunner yell something behind him as he closed the door, but the words were muffled by the wood. It was just as well. He didn't want to know what he’d said.

  He hadn't been in a fight with one of his brothers in years. Not since they were all hotheaded teens. Gunner was only twenty-two, as close to a hotheaded teen as a grown man could be, but Heath wasn't going to let this stand. He had been working what equated to a full-time job on the ranch since he was twelve years old. So had Austin and Shane. He didn't expect anything of his brothers that he hadn't done himself.

  He climbed into his truck. As he drove the mile down the road to his oldest brother's house, he went over what he wanted to say again and again. When he arrived at the front door of Austin’s house, Cheyenne answered, holding a crying six-month-old. Heath immediately regretted bringing this issue to their door. He didn't have a choice. Austin needed to know, and Heath needed help figuring out what to do.

  “Is Austin here?” he asked as she invited him inside.

  “He's just come back for lunch. He’s been working with Dylan, packing and shipping. But you've just caught him. He is finishing up his burger in the kitchen.”

  “How have you been?”

  “I've been well. We were sleeping through the night, but our baby is teething, and the sleepless nights have returned.”

  Heath rubbed his nephew’s back and smiled before walking into the kitchen to find his brother.

  “Hello, Heath,” Austin said, wiping his hand on a paper towel. “What brings you here today?”

  “I have to talk with you about the Gunner situation. It isn't getting any better, and we just got into a rather heated argument.”

  “It wouldn't have anything to do with that shiner developing on your right eye, would it?” Austin asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes, unfortunately. I didn't want to take it that far, but that's where the conversation went.”

  “How exactly did that happen?”

  “He was scheduled to help the twins with the haying. He still wasn't out there this morning when I returned from Rose's, so I went over to see what he was doing. Lo and behold, I found him sleeping on the couch in his underwear, surrounded by beer bottles and stale pizza boxes. Shane's house is filthy, by the way. I don't think Gunner has cleaned up once since he's moved in. I woke him up and asked him what he was doing, and then he pushed me. So I pushed him back. Then he punched me in the face.”

  “This is not good.”

  “No, it's not. We can't let this continue. If we don't have the manpower to run the ranch, we’re going to get further and further behind. I'm already overextended. The twins are doing everything they can to pick up the slack, and they haven't complained, but they have other work to do. Shane shouldn't have to come back to the ranch and leave his writing because Gunner wants to get drunk and sleep until noon. We have to do something about this, Austin. It can't continue.”

  “I know, and I agree with you. It's not a good situation. But you know Gunner is a young man. He's got things to figure out.”

  “We were all young once. You and I both worked on the ranch since we were kids.”

  “Gunner’s not like us.”

  “We are all different, Austin. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You know he lost Mom and Dad really young. I'm just saying I don't want to make a bigger deal out of this than need be.”

  “But it is a big deal. If we can't get the work done, the whole ranch will suffer, the entire family will suffer. He needs to pull his weight. There's no other option.”

  “I agree with you for the most part, but I think that it's time that we put some serious thought into finding some interns, especially now that we are finding our mates, and everyone is finding their own way in the world. We have to accept that we can't do it all ourselves. And the situation with Gunner is just a symptom of the larger issue.”

  “Where are we supposed to house these interns?” Heath asked.

  “I'm considering converting one of the barns into a dorm. But until then, we might have to accommodate them in our houses.”

  “How exactly is that going to work out?”

  “I don't know yet, Heath. But I'll figure it out. How are things going with you and Rose Winter?”

  Heath sighed. He had so much on his mind, it was hard for him to admit that after waiting for years to find his mate, she might just disappear as quickly as she'd arrived.

  “I am showing her the ropes of running the dairy. I think she's getting the hang of it.”

  “Has she made the decision to stay?” Austin asked.

  “Not yet. But I hope she will soon.”

  “Do you think it's possible that you’re getting angry with Gunner because of your own frustrations?”

  “How could you ask me that, Austin? The ranch is everything. And you might think it's okay for Gunner to shirk his responsibilities, but I don't.”

  “Look, Heath. I understand where you're coming from, and I don't want you to think I don't take this seriously, because I do. Obviously, we need the extra help, and we will have to find some way to get it. I just want you to try to put yourself in Gunner’s shoes. A lot has changed for him, and he's going through his own stuff. He deserves to have the space to do it.”

  “Sure, Austin. We’ll give him the space to go through whatever quarter-life crisis he's experiencing, and we'll just watch the sheep die.”

  “Heath,” Austin said as Heath stood from the table and headed toward the kitchen door, “we'll deal with this. I swear to you, I won't let it go much longer. I've already started putting up ads for interns, and I have some excellent replies. Just give it some time. Okay?”

  “Fine,” Heath said with a sigh. He'd already gotten into a fistfight with one brother today, and he didn't want to fight with another.

  Chapter 8

  “You have to come help. I don't know what to do.” Rose's heart slammed in her chest.

  “Slow down. What is it? What's happening?”

  “I was checking the kidding mothers in the barn, and one of them is in trouble. She's been in labor for hours. I think the baby's turned around. I don't know what to do. I need your help. Please say you'll come.”

  “I'll be there in a few minutes. Just hang tight. Don't worry, Rose. I'll be right there.”

  “Thank you, Heath. I'm so worried. I don't know how to handle this. It's all too much for me.”

  “You’re doing fine. You did exactly what you needed to do by calling me. I'll be right there.”

  Rose felt a sense of relief wash through her. She had told herself she wasn't going to get attached to these goats. They were just animals that lived on her grandfather's ranch. They weren't pets. They made a product, and that was all. As soon as Heath was satisfied that she couldn't handle the ranch, she could go on her merry way and live her life.

  But seeing that mother struggle, she knew she couldn't keep telling herself the animals didn't matter. She didn't want the baby to die or the mother to suffer. She hurried back out to the barn and paced outside the mother's stall, waiting for Heath to come and tell her what to do.

  When she heard his truck pull into the driveway, a relief so strong swept over her that she almost cried. Heath stepped into the barn, and she hurried to him.

  “Oh, thank God you're here.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “I don't know. She's in trouble, but I don't know how to help her. You have to do something, Heath. She’s suffering, I can tell. None of the other births were this difficult.”

  “You were right,” he said, looking into the mother’s stall. “The baby's coming out the wrong way. We’ll have to help her.”

  “I'm so glad you know what to do.”

  Heath laid the medical bag down on the concrete and pulled off his jacket. They both went into the stall, and he instructed her to hold the mother's head while he worked with the baby. The mother bleated with another contraction, and blood flowed. Rose was so worried they would lose her and the kid. It was too much to bear, and she didn't know what she would do if she had to watch this poor goat die.

  “Just talk to her, Rose. Keep her calm.”

  “It's okay, forty-two,” she said. “We’re here to help you. Your baby's gonna be all right.”

  “That's good. Now, on the next contraction, I'm going to pull,” he said as he wrapped a rope around the baby's feet.

  “Are you sure that’s safe?” she asked, observing his actions.

  “It's the only way. We need to get this baby out of her. No doctor’s gonna come out here and perform a Cesarean for a goat.”

  “You can do it, forty-two. You can do it. Just push, push.”

  Heath pushed his leg against the stall wall and gritted his teeth as he pulled in time with the mother’s contraction. She let out a long groaning bleat as the kid slid from her womb in a gush of fluid and blood. The mother bayed, but the kid was still and silent.

  “Is it okay?” Rose asked.

  Unlike the other kids she’d seen when they were born, this one wasn't moving, and it wasn't crying.

  “We gotta get her lungs moving,” Heath said. “It’s gonna be okay.”

  He pulled off his own shirt and began to rub the baby, wiping the fluid away from its face. He then wrapped his hand around its mouth and began to blow into its lungs. In alternating bursts of rubbing and blowing, he worked diligently to wake the baby and bring it back to life.

  “Is it going to be okay?” Rose whispered, but Heath didn't reply.

  He opened its mouth and cleared out its throat and blew air into its mouth again. Just when Rose thought all was lost, she heard the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard. The kid bleated loud and frantic, coming to life and pulling itself to its feet.

  Rose nearly cried at the sight. It was so beautiful.

  “We gotta get some colostrum in her. The mom is pretty weak, but there's some stored in the fridge. Until Mom can get back on her feet, we can give the baby a bottle. Can you fix the bottle like I showed you?”

  “I think so,” Rose said, rising to her feet as Heath continued to rub the baby.

  She hurried to the refrigerator in the barn and pulled out the colostrum. She poured it into a bottle and put the bottle under the hot water for several minutes until it was warm. She hurried back to Heath and the kid.

  “Do you want to do the honors?” he asked.

  She nodded, kneeling down beside him. He helped her squeeze some milk into the baby's mouth, and then the little beast began to suck vigorously.

  Rose shrieked with delight and satisfaction as the kid finished the whole serving. Heath checked on the mother and said she was going to be just fine. They’d check them again in the morning to make sure they were both thriving. It was a happy ending for both mother and baby. Rose had never felt so accomplished in all her life. Even after graduating with an MBA from a top university, this was one of the highlights of her life. They headed out of the barn and into the cool night air. The sky was full of stars, glittering above in the velvety darkness. She knew she was way too amped up to go to bed.

 

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