Luckily, he’s too distracted by the slippery throat in his hands and the smell of wet fur for the passing touch to have its full effect, and then Lance is stepping away and Robbie can think straight again. His heart only skipped a few beats.

“She was just born, out in the snow,” Robbie explains, looking down at the little slits of the calf’s eyes. Her eyes and the small puffs of air coming out of her nose are the only signs of life. “This is the fastest way to warm her up.”

Lance comes around on his other side, not close enough to touch from there, and sits on the edge of the tub, one long leg folded under him.

“She’s so cute,” he says quietly. “Is she going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Robbie admits.

“Could we take her to a vet?”

“Maybe. My dad would say I should see if the cow will let me milk her so we can try to get something in her belly. Then to just keep her warm, and see.”

Lance’s eyes are wide and bright, like the fragile life in Robbie’s hands is important to him—even though, just minutes ago, he didn’t know she existed. Robbie rests his chin on his shoulder, head craned to look up at Lance, and smiles.

“You always had a soft heart,” he says quietly. Lance’s lips are winter-bitten to red, and his face is flushed from coming in out of the cold. He’s unspeakably lovely, especially when he gives Robbie a shy smile and then looks down, his eyelashes dark little veils over his eyes.

“So did you.”

“Yeah,” Robbie agrees, though it’s been a long time since anyone seemed to notice—it shouldn’t surprise him that Lance has.

There’s not much noise except the soft stirring of the water in the tub, the occasional slow drip from the faucet, and, in the quiet, the audible little puffs of breath coming from the calf. Robbie adjusts the position of his hands, slowly and carefully, just to be sure he’s not obstructing her airway.

“I didn’t realize you knew about cattle,” Lance says.

“I don’t, really. Just what I learned from following my dad around.”

“He ran cattle out here?”

“Yes. He loved cattle ranching in a way I couldn’t really understand.” Robbie shifts his body, feeling little bursts of pain from his folded knees, along with tingles in the soles of his feet from kneeling too long on the hard floor. He adjusts as much as he can without moving the calf. Her skin finally feels like it’s warmed to a neutral temperature, but the water is still much warmer than she is. “I wasn’t cut out for it.”

“I can’t imagine you as anything except a horse trainer,” Lance says comfortably, obviously not realizing how that offhand comment makes Robbie’s gut wrench.

“I’m a man of very few skills,” he says lightly, before changing the subject. “Did you have a good walk?”

“I…went across the creek,” Lance murmurs, like he’s confessing a sin. “Had you heard that someone was living there? In my dad’s place?”