Cowgirl Up ✔️

Chapter Fifty Two

"Bailey?"
"Yeah?"
I looked up from my phone screen, my cup of tea sitting nearby on the breakfast bar.
Grandpa hustled into the kitchen, a mild frown on his face.
"What's up?"
I asked, a small amount of concern hitting me.
"Can you do me a favour please?"
Grandpa looked like he regretted having to ask me, but didn't have all that much choice.
I'd been hugging the toilet bowl several times that morning and out of bed multiple times to take the puppy out to the toilet so he didn't have any accidents in my bedroom.
So far, he's slipped up only once and accidentally done a wee on my carpet floor yesterday morning.
Though I couldn't much blame him when at the time, I was in the bathroom hurling my guts up.
For the last hour or so my belly has remained still and I've been able to eat some food.
I offered Grandpa a smile to show he didn't need to worry over asking me.
"Sure."
I was meant to be a part of his hired crew after all.
"The boys are needing some first aid supplies out at the North-West paddocks, by the pump."
Grandpa said as he ran a hand into his lightly salt and peppered hair.
"Umm...what's happened?"
A scampering sound reached my ears, which was the puppy waking up and scrambling around the kitchen counter to greet Grandpa.
Grandpa bent to give the excitable pup a pat.
"Hello trouble."
He straightened and met my gaze.
"I'm not entirely sure on the details but word from Heath, via Blayze is a first aid kit will do."
"Okay. Umm...how will I get it out there?"
I stepped down from the breakfast bar stool I'd been using.
Grandpa shrugged.
"The boys have the Hilux and I think Blayze's Ranger is out there too. I'd go myself but I'm just..."
He wiped the back of his hand against his forehead.
Frowning, I peered at my Grandfather's pale face with a hint of pink on his cheeks.
"Are you okay Pa?"
Since when does Grandpa get sick?
The man is basically bulletproof.
"Just a little off."
Grandpa waved it off as if it were a pesky fly.
"But Grace is refusing to let me out further than the yard."
I couldn't help but smile.
My grandparents do love each other.
"I'm on it Pa don't worry. Is the Zuke-"
I was cut off by a yap from my puppy and him bouncing on his spot.
Grandpa and I both eyed him curiously.
Grandpa shook his head and turned back to me.
"Yes the Zuke-"
Once again the puppy cut in by yapping and standing on his back legs, his front paws tap dancing against Grandpa's jeans.
"Puppy!"
I exclaimed and stomped forward to pull him back from annoying Grandpa.
Like anybody else here, Grandpa loves dogs,
But he also believes in them behaving themselves.
"Okay we'll take the Zuke."
As if on cue, puppy yapped and spun around to face me, his feet tap dancing on the tiles of the kitchen floor.
Grandpa raised a questioning eyebrow.
"You're gonna take trouble?"
I shrugged.
"May as well let him get out."
Grandpa nodded his agreement.
"Will do him good."
"C'mon pup."
I bent to scoop him up off the ground.
"Let's get the first aid kit and the Zuke."
Puppy barked.
"What the hell's gotten into that dog? I've not yet heard it make so much noise."
Grandpa shook his head.
"No idea!"
I called over my shoulder and slipped out of the kitchen.

Once out of the house garden, I set puppy onto the ground so he could burn off some energy by running to the machinery shed.
He bounded alongside me, trying to keep up with the renewed vigour I had in my stride thanks to knowing we were on a mission.
I wonder who's hurt?
Blayze?
Mentally I brushed that thought aside.
He'd likely just wrap up the injury in a t-shirt or jumper or something and drive himself home.
Troy?
Alex?
Jake?
Shayne?
Heath?
Any of the above was possible.
"What're you up to?"
Puppy and I looked left to see Uncle Lukas walking toward us.
Puppy bounded forward, keen for a pat.
Uncle Lukas gave in and bent to ruffle the puppy's large fluffy ear's.
"Grandpa asked me to take a First Aid kit out to the boys."
I explained.
"Right. Do you need a hand?"
I shook my head.
"I think he said Blayze is out there so I think we should be good."
"Righto."
My Uncle nodded.
"I'm just gonna get the Zuke-"
Puppy yapped and launched himself under my feet.
"Jeez!"
I tripped over his body, my arms flailing and my heart in my throat as I realised I was going to hit the dirt.
A vice tight grip clamped around my left wrist and I was pulled upright.
"Thanks!"
I panted, realising my Uncle had come to my rescue.
Uncle Lukas wore a frown.
"Try be careful Bails."
He nodded pointedly to my stomach.
My heart lurched.
If I'd fallen over...
Apparently my fear was evident on my face, because as I looked up to my Uncle's face, his stern look softened.
"I know all of this is still very new to you,"
He pulled me in for a hug.
"Just try to be extra careful, especially early on. In the early stages it doesn't take much for disaster to be the result."
"How- how do you know that?"
He's got four strong, beautiful, healthy kids.
What would he know about the tortures of pregnancy?
Uncle Lukas shook his head.
"That's a tale for another day. Be careful and check none of those boys have lost a limb."
He urged me toward the shed's.
First i had to visit the tack shed and grab a First Aid Kit before going to the machinery shed and starting up the Zuke.
'The Zuke' is the pet name we have for the little Suzuki Sierra 4x4 that we have.
It's old, it's dented, there's a million holes in the muffler and the rest of the exhaust system.
Half the time the gear box clunk's as you're shifting gears and neither window will go all the way up, so when the weather turn's, you're gonna get wet.
But the car still goes.
No matter what colour the smoke coming from the exhaust looks, no matter the noise the car makes.
Hell the thing has even tipped over on a hill before.
The boys pushed it back up and strangely enough, it seemed to even run a little better since!
With the bright purple First Aid kit in my arms, I checked around my feet to see if the puppy was still with me.
Thankfully, he was.
"C'mon pup."
I urged.
He bounded after me as we exited the tack shed.
Walking alongside the corrogated iron, I eventually got to the open huge sliding door of the machinery shed.