Chapter 6

Two hours later, they arrived at Harding’s farm. John was waiting for them. Betsie lay in a clean, disinfected spot he had prepared in the barn.

“Something’s wrong, Sabrina,” John said, his brow furrowed. “Betsie’s in too much pain.”

Sabrina slipped off her watch and rings, then gently washed the cow’s vulva with warm water and mild soap. She pulled on a long glove and coated it liberally with lubricant.

“I need to figure out the calf’s position and how to correct it,” she said, then carefully eased her hand into the birth canal.

Michael and Emma watched, wide-eyed.

“No matter how many times I do this, it’s still amazing to feel the calf, curled up inside its mother,” she murmured, more to herself than to them.

Betsie shifted and trembled. John stroked her neck and tried to calm her.

“Easy, girl. Sabrina’s here to help,” he murmured.

“Betsie’s trying her best to push,” Sabrina said. “When the contractions ease up, that’s my chance to feel what parts of the calf are presenting.”

“The normal position for a calf is nose and front hooves first,” John added, placing a large, calloused hand on Emma’s shoulder. “If you don’t see those first, it’s time to call Sabrina.”

“The calf’s in the wrong position,” Sabrina announced suddenly, her voice tight.

“Can you fix it yourself?” Emma asked, her voice anxious.

“I’m going to try to turn it manually, but it’s risky,” Sabrina replied. “John, I need you to keep her steady.”

John nodded.

“What are you waiting for?” Emma asked after a beat.

“I have to wait until the contraction ends,” Sabrina said, watching Betsie closely. The seconds dragged until, at last, the cow’s body relaxed.

Carefully, Sabrina slid her hand deeper inside.

“Why not during the contraction?” Emma asked, biting her lip.

“If a contraction hit while my hand’s in there...” Sabrina grimaced. “Well, let’s just say the cow’s muscles crushing my hand wouldn’t be pretty.”

“Be careful, Sabrina,” Emma whispered.

Sabrina winked. “The inside of a cow is delicate. If I—or the calf—tear anything, Betsie could die. I’m cupping my hand over the hooves and moving gently.”

Emma squeezed Michael’s hand hard, her eyes shining with worry and admiration.

“Now I’m going to try and guide the calf into the correct position...” Sabrina muttered, forehead beaded with sweat, her face taut with concentration. “I think ... that should do it.”

After a few tense moments, the front hooves and part of the calf’s head appeared.

“Good job!” Sabrina cried, grinning in relief. Moments later, the rest of the calf slid free. It landed awkwardly, trembling, unable to stand. Betsie immediately began licking the amniotic fluid from its body.

“If that’s not cleared fast, they can die,” Sabrina explained.

“Is it all right?” Emma asked, heart in her throat.

“Yes. It’s fine,” Sabrina said, pulling off her glove.