Leftover Love by Janet Dailey Page B

Despite Creed’s rough looks, what happened seemed out of character. He was an intelligent man, so he must have known how she would react to such sexual abuse. If he did, then that meant it was deliberate on his part.
    It was sobering to think he disliked her so much that he was willing to make himself repulsive to her so she wouldstay away from him. It was obvious that Creed wanted nothing beyond a work relationship. She should have taken the hint when her friendly overtures weren’t reciprocated, Layne decided. If that’s the way he wanted it, then she would oblige him.
    The spate of mild weather didn’t last. A winter storm ushered in the month of March, complete with snow and cold north winds. Its arrival coincided with the calving of the first cows, which added a few complications to the natural procedure. A bovine nursery was set up in the kitchen for the odd weak calf that needed the warm shelter from the bad weather for a day or so until it had the strength to return to its mother.
    As a child, Layne had been present when a neighbor’s dog had puppies, and had seen films of larger animals giving birth to their young, but she had never attended any other birthing before. No matter how cold and tired she got, she always felt a tingling sense of awe that she had witnessed a little miracle when a spanking-new white-faced calf made its first wobbling lurch onto its feet.
    With all her morning chores finished, including the milking, Layne crossed the yard to the barn area where the tractor was parked. It was already hitched to the loaded hayrack, but Creed wasn’t in sight. Figuring he’d be along directly, she wandered over to the fence and huddled against a post to look out over the cattle in the winter pasture.
    The hayrack with its stacks of bales acted as a windbreak to shield her from the blast of the north wind. A bleak, gray cloud cover hung over the land, pressing its gloom onto the morning and making the temperature seem colder. A wool muffler covered her mouth and nose, but her face still felt numb and stiff.
    In the pasture the cows were gathering expectantly along the circuitous tracks made by the tractor and hay wagon on the previous morning’s feed. The snow was trampled in that area, stray wisps of dirty hay mixing in with the snow and frozen soil.
    Not far from the fence stood a cow with a calf not more than two days old. The little heifer calf eyed Layne curiously while it hugged close to its mother’s side. Its white face seemed whiter even than the snow, and its deep russet-brown coat appeared burnished. But it was the calf’s eyes that fascinated Layne. They were so big and luminously brown, and the lashes were incredibly long and curling.
    Behind Layne heavy footsteps crunched on the frozen ground, moving her way. All tightly bundled around the neck, she had to half turn before she was able to see Creed walking toward her. She was reluctant to leave the windbreak of the hayrack, so she let him come to her rather than going to meet him.
    Since the incident in the parking lot a certain terseness had existed between them. They rarely spent enough time in each other’s company for it to become an uncomfortable situation. Layne knew she harbored no bitterness on her part, and it appeared that Creed didn’t either. An unspoken agreement seemed to exist that they would keep their distance.
    “Ready?” Creed pushed next to the fence to issue his one-word question.
    “I guess so,” Layne agreed reluctantly and let her gaze stray back to the young calf. “They’re beautiful little creatures, aren’t they?” Her half-frozen lips had trouble forming the words as she attempted to share the wonder she felt at the sweet innocence of the baby calf. “So perfect in every detail.”
    “Everything is beautiful when it’s a baby.” There was acertain flatness in his voice, which didn’t seem attributable to the cold, as he glanced at the object of Layne’s interest. “But it doesn’t last. That