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onto his horse. “Let’s go find him.”
    Eli spurred his horse on. “Got her number?” he asked, meaning the identification number on the mother cow’s ear.
    “Yeah, I know it.”
    “I’m going to guess he’s under the trees somewhere.” Eli gestured to the back of the field that led toward the houses. It was still heavily wooded, providing the herd with a place to escape the weather.
    Connor followed him, the horses’ hoofbeats the only sound as they galloped across the field. Eli kept an eye out for a carcass in the grass, but the absence of crows and buzzards had him feeling optimistic.
    Death was a part of ranch life, but it wasn’t one he enjoyed.
    Sure, they raised cattle for beef, but they took care of them. They had value to his family that ran deep. It was hard to explain to someone outside of the ranching community, but those in it understood the connection without him having to voice it.
    Hell, with a job this demanding, you had to love all the elements of it, or you’d never choose to do it. It was really why he chose to do it only part-time. Maybe that made him a fair-weather cowboy, but he was okay with that.
    He still got his job done. Both his jobs, in fact.
    He tugged his horse’s reins and slowed her down when they got to the edge of the trees and Connor dismounted.
    “Oh, great,” he said, looking back. “We got mama’s attention. But then, I guess that means we’re close.”
    But the last thing they wanted was to be on a twelve-hundred-pound mother cow’s radar while they tried to run down her three-day-old calf and give him a piercing.
    Eli got off his own horse and followed Connor under the trees. “Okay, Con,” he said, “make this fast because I don’t want to deal with mom cow’s attitude, all right?”
    Then he saw it, spindly and wobbly, under the trees. Black as night, obviously not inheriting his mother’s coloring.
    “Okay...” Eli said. “Let’s do this thing.”
    Connor crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Get in there, part-time cowboy. You’re on shift.” He handed Eli the applicator, which was already clean and ready.
    Eli took it, then flipped Connor his middle finger before wading into the foliage.
    He looked over his shoulder. The mother cow was jogging now, heading toward them, not happy to see them getting closer to her baby. And they couldn’t blame her. But he needed to get the baby’s tag on so they could match him up with his mother later. Easy enough to figure it out now, but harder later in a field of black calves.
    “Hurry up, man!” Connor called.
    “Right,” Eli said, tossing the word over his shoulder as he battled through the brush, sticks breaking beneath his boots as he headed toward the calf, who was attempting a getaway. “I’ll just speed this along.”
    “I don’t want you to get your ass trampled.”
    “Well, neither do I,” Eli growled.
    Eli lunged for the calf, and as he did, the mother started to charge in their direction.
    “Hell!” Connor dodged to the side and the mom nudged at him with her head, bellowing and generally trying to intimidate him. He sidestepped her next attempt at butting him.
    Eli turned his focus back to the calf and grabbed him, fitting the applicator to his ear and punching as hard and secure as he could, holding the animal’s neck and head still with one arm while he finished the job with the other.
    “Got him!” He released the little black calf, who now had a yellow tag on his ear and seemed none the worse for wear.
    “Then haul ass,” Connor said, moving through the trees and back to his horse. Eli did the same, and fortunately the cow was now just focused on her baby, who was making a low bawling sound.
    “He’s playing it up now.” Connor wiped his forearm over his brow. “Trying to make his mom even madder.”
    “I don’t think she could possibly get much madder,” Eli said, trying to catch his breath.
    “Probably not. I’m going to ride back out for a minute,” Connor