The Happiness Pact. Liz Flaherty

He shook himself a little, his hand stroking through his son’s hair. “I’m sorry. May I help you?”

      “We slid off the road,” said Tucker. “I’m not sure you have anything to tow with, but I’m pretty sure we’d get too cold out there waiting for a truck. We’ve come to beg warmth.”

      “I’ll pull you out soon. I hope you don’t mind waiting.” The man gestured toward the straining cow. “Joanna’s having some trouble.”

      “Wow, she sure is.” Libby took off her coat and gloves and carried them over to the little girl. “Will you and your kitty watch these for me? I’m always losing things.”

      The little girl nodded, her expression solemn.

      “My name is Libby Worth, and my friend is Tucker Llewellyn. What’s yours?” Libby was looking around, smiling when her gaze encountered anyone else’s.

      “I’m Mari,” said the little girl. She pointed at the boy. “That’s Gavin. He’s my brother.”

      “And my name is Dan. This is my wife, Alice,” the man said, finishing the introductions. “Joanna is Gavin’s 4-H calf, all grown up.” He shook his head. “I’m afraid being midwife to a cow is outside all our skill sets.”

      Libby nodded. “Do you have shoulder gloves?”

      Gavin drew away from his father. “The vet gave us some, but we don’t know what to do with them.”

      “Well, I do, and so does my friend Tucker here, although it’s been long enough for him he probably doesn’t remember. Do you have some chains for calving?”

      “Yes. They were left here.” Gavin’s father looked apologetic. “I’m afraid I don’t know how to use them, either. Sometimes moving to the country from the suburbs seems to have been a mistake.”

      “No, it’s not,” his wife protested softly. “We just haven’t learned everything yet. What do you need us to do, Ms. Worth?”

      “It’s just Libby.” She smiled at the woman, who’d come to stand nearby, her hands resting on the large mound of her stomach.

      Tucker thought the whole barn, even Joanna, relaxed in the glow of that smile.

      “Okay. I need water, please. Warm, if you have it.” Libby pulled the long glove into place and stepped behind Joanna. “Gavin, this is your cow. Are you going to help her have this baby?”

      The boy’s eyes were wide. Tucker thought his own probably were, too. “Yes, ma’am.”

      “I was about your age when my cow Arletta had her first calf, and she took her time about it, too.” Libby nodded at Dan. “Will you hold her tail? If I make her mad—which I very well might—and she flips it around, she could knock me down.” She aimed a smile at Tucker. “You need to get your coat off if you’re going to help here.”

      Which he obviously was, whether he wanted to or not. Her expression told him there’d be no good in arguing that point. Tucker took off his coat, gloves and the pullover sweater he’d worn to church. The shirt he’d worn under it was fairly expendable, but the sweater was cashmere and he really liked how it felt.

      “My brother is a vet,” Libby explained to Gavin, “and we grew up on a dairy farm, so I really do know how to do this. Understand, I don’t like doing it, so you’ll probably have to do something wonderful for me after this, like make me some cookies or something.”

      Holding the calving chains until she asked for them, Tucker listened to Libby as she spoke first to the worried boy and then to the frightened cow. “My friend delivers human babies, and she’s given me all kinds of new instructions I didn’t know about,” Libby said, her voice soothing and quiet. “You need to breathe just right, Joanna. Do the hoo-hoo, hee-hee thing like they show on television. I’ll bet Alice can tell you how. That way I can put the chains around your baby’s legs and help you out a little.”

      “That’s right about the breathing, although I never considered it for a cow.” Alice was at the cow’s head but standing outside the stall, little Mari and her cat at her side. The woman stroked the side of Joanna’s neck. “You can do this, girl.” She looked over at where her husband stood holding firmly to a long and manure-encrusted tail. “We can do this, too, Dan Parsons.”

      Her husband smiled at her, reminding Tucker of how Jack and Arlie looked at each other. He wanted that. Maybe he wanted the whole over-the-top part of it, too.

      He didn’t think he wanted any cows, but if that came with the package, he guessed he could live with it.

      He flinched as Libby slipped her arm into where it had to go, talking to the cow all the time. “Just be glad it’s me instead of Tuck or my brother, Joanna. They have big hands and arms and...ouch...let me get that...no, hold still.” She stopped for a moment, panting as Joanna did, biting down on her bottom lip. “Okay, let’s try that again. Let’s get this baby out for you so you can have a nice rest. Attagirl...oh, ouch, ouch, ouch, you’re not being very grateful, are you?”

      Tucker stepped forward, but she shook her head at him. “I’m okay.” She smiled and patted the cow’s hindquarters with her free hand. “She is, too. She’s just tired.”

      “Do you think it’s going to be all right?” Gavin’s tone was solemn. “Sometimes cows die giving birth. Their calves die, too.”

      “You’re right.” Libby’s expression was as serious as the boy’s. “It seems as if there are risks in everything you do, but if you don’t risk anything, you don’t gain anything, either.” She grinned suddenly, her face lighting up. “And you’ll never have any adventures. Right, Tuck?”

      “Right.” He sounded too hearty, he knew he did, but the boy’s face brightened, too, so it was okay.

      “Okay, good. There we go. Tuck, you set to back me up? Dan, you want to be there to give Gavin a hand if he needs it? He probably won’t, but just in case.” Libby stepped away, holding the end of one of the chains and giving the other to Gavin. “Now, when she strains, we’re going to pull real slow and steady, working with her contraction. Don’t jerk and don’t pull too hard. Think you can do that?”

      “Yes, ma’am.” He looked frightened, but no more so than his father.

      “It scares me, too,” Tucker told the boy, moving into place behind Libby, “and I’ve done it before. I think you’re supposed to be worried about it.”

      Gavin took a deep breath. “Well, if I am, I’ve got that part down. Now, ma’am?”

      “Now.”

      Rewarding the efforts of a small woman in a red dress, a determined young boy and an extremely tired Holstein, a large calf was born in a rush of fluid. Tucker stepped away from Libby in time to catch it, although he fell under its weight.

      “You did it, Joanna! You did it!” Gavin dropped the chain and ran around to hug his cow’s neck. “It’s a...what is it, Dad?”

      “A heifer,” said Dan, helping to rub the calf down with straw. “A big, strong girl.” He looked up at where Libby was shaking her arm to regain full feeling in it. “We can’t thank you enough.”

      “Yes, you can,” she promised. “I know you don’t know us at all, but if you’ll let us take a bath and change our clothes, I think we’ll consider ourselves thanked.”

      “I’m pretty sure we can accommodate that,” said Alice, “plus there’s a roast in the oven just crying out to be eaten.”

      Tucker exchanged glances with Libby and shrugged slightly. “Sounds great.”

      A few more inches of snow had fallen while they’d been in the barn. Drifts created whipped-cream mountains everywhere they looked, some of them all the way up to the eaves of the garage. “I have a tractor,” said Dan. “I’ll be able to get you out of the ditch, but you might want to plan on spending