A Song From the Heart

While thinking about the various romances I've written and the characters I've enjoyed the most, I decided Blossom and Ferdinand (my cow and her bullfriend) are right at the top of that list. So I'm sharing a part of one of their little stories with you. One where Ferdinand definitely won my heart as well as Blossom's.

Where had the day gone? Blossom wondered as she woke up from evidently having fallen asleep in contented bliss after eating her fill earlier. The sun was high in the sky now. She’d wasted precious time nodding off that she could have spent with Ferdinand. That really curdled her milk!

Just about to hurry away, a small patch of temptingly green grass caught her eye. Well, it had been a couple of hours since she’d eaten. A quick bite wouldn’t hurt anything. After all, she needed to maintain her figure. Ferdinand liked her big-bovine form. He had such good taste.

A few generous nibbles later Blossom found her interest lie more with seeking out Ferdinand than in eating. Had to be love, pure wonderful love. “Love, love, love. I’m so in love,” she sang as she ambled off toward the far end of the field.

Behind her she could hear yet another disparaging “humpf” from Elsie. Blossom knew the other cows were torn between agreeing with their leader and with wishing they could be as carefree as Blossom. She really didn’t care, nothing mattered but seeing that hot one-ton stud again.

Momentarily lost in both her desire to be with him and with warbling out new verses to her latest song, she almost missed hearing the throaty, Southern-accented moo. Almost. When the sound drifted in the gentle breeze again, Blossom froze in her tracks and gaped in horror at the other field. Less than ten yards away stood the love of her life, looking lusty-eyed at that awful, awful Sasha, the new Guernsey Farmer Sam had recently purchased. A Guernsey from Louisiana. Why, oh why couldn’t that bovine temptress have been drowned in some swamp!

Blossom gave an involuntary, mournful moan and spun around. Her heart felt pinched with pain. Ferdinand had found another cow and cast her cruelly aside. He’d moved on to someone younger, leaner, and firmer. Oh, how her heart hurt. A tear trickled from one eye. Her legs felt leaden as she attempted to make her way as far from the love struck pair as possible.

Ferdinand bellowed out to her, futilely trying to stop her. Heavy hooves pounded the hard ground and she knew that he had come after her as far as he could. His bellow turned sad, desperate.

Sasha’s annoyed Southern-laced moo fluttered Blossom’s direction as well. Hussy!

Blossom continued on her way. She didn’t care about Ferdinand’s too-little-too-late attempt to speak to her. The mammoth scoundrel had wounded her deeply. Let him discover for himself how shallow that Southern belle really was! All she wanted him for was… Well, she didn’t want to think about that. She’d rather enjoyed that with him, too. But she’d enjoyed other things about him as well. How he’d just stand there—probably bored out of his mind—and let her ramble on about one topic or another. How he’d valiantly shove back a piece of the fence so she could join him in his field. How he’d share his favorite patch of grass.

Oh the memories! Tears nearly blinded her. She didn’t want to face the herd, especially not Elsie. The Jersey had been waiting to say, “I told you so. I told you he wasn’t worth it.”

No, she needed to be alone. She needed to let the misery really sink in, until her fighting spirit returned. Then, maybe, just maybe she would go give that big fellow a talking to that would have his ears ringing for days. She might just bite his rump, too. Serve him right. After taking care of Ferdinand she’d do something awful to Sasha, but she didn’t know what yet. But it would be awful!

Determined to mire in her unhappiness, she headed for her best thinking spot: the middle of the pond.

Ferdinand had never felt so tiny in his life, not even when he’d been a young bull. He’d also never felt so incredibly sad. And what was that pinching around his heart? This was all new to him. He’d been with more cows than he could count in his life, most he couldn’t even remember.

He heaved a deep, deep sigh. Actually, he couldn’t remember any of the other cows he’d been with. His glance slid sideways to the Guernsey attempting to rub temptingly against him. Scrawny, bony. Boring. He’d been beyond insane to help Sasha through the partially downed fence. He just hadn’t wanted to see her get hurt trying to squeeze through by herself. A gentleman, that’s what he’d been.

She rubbed against his side again and he rumbled a warning bellow. Her head bobbed up and her eyes widened in surprise at his apparent lack of interest in her efforts to arouse him. Okay, she aroused him just by being a cow. He wasn’t any different from other bulls. Give any of them—including him—even the scent of a cow and certain body parts were ready for action. Thinking with their—his, too—brain slowed down to almost nothing at all. Which was exactly what had happened to him, which was why he faced this horrible situation now.

He shifted away from Sasha, glowering for her to keep her distance from him. Sure she’d temporarily distracted him and almost made him make a serious mistake. Almost made him betray the cow love of his life. The love of his life. He blinked. Yes, that’s exactly what Blossom was. Not just some cow he enjoyed flirting with now and then. She made him laugh, and he didn’t laugh easily. She made him smile, inside—bulls never smiled on the outside. They had a certain fierce reputation to maintain after all.

He looked across the other field, watched Blossom drag herself toward her thinking pond; saw the droop of her shoulders. Her normally vibrant spirit was broken. His stomach rolled with the upset of knowing he’d hurt her, and then his second stomach rolled, too.

Sasha tried another of those ridiculous Southern moos to entice him her way. It grated on his nerves. He’d give anything to see Blossom happy again, to hear another of those silly songs she’d been singing lately. He knew Elsie had been putting her down for singing, telling her that it was undignified for a cow to sing. A proper cow simply spent their days eating, eating, and eating some more. Occasionally they’d wander to the pond for a drink, but then they’d go back to eating. After eight or so hours of that, they went back to the barn to get fed yet again.

He glanced toward Blossom where she now stood in the middle of the pond, sulking. Blossom was not a “proper” cow. Okay, she did her fair share of eating. But she didn’t simply spend her days eating and standing around swatting flies with her tail. His Blossom had adventures…like when she got into the whiskey barrel behind Farmer Sam’s shed. Or like when …

Enough! What the hell was he doing standing around her with Sasha-the-floozy when he could be trying to win back his ladylove?

With a burst of energy and strength, he shoved the fence post in front of him over. He took a few steps back, and then leaped over the fallen fencing as if he were a young bull again. Then he ran—not trotted—ran to the pond. His heart pounded. His mind whirled, trying, trying to think of how to make things right with Blossom. Then it occurred to him what would get her attention, and, hopefully, win her heart once more. Could he do it? He’d look and sound ridiculous, and bulls never liked looking ridiculous.

He saw Blossom’s shoulders shudder. Was she crying? Over him?

Ferdinand slowed as he approached the pond. He knew that she sensed him and just didn’t want to face him. He sucked in a steely breath and threw pride into the wind. “Blossom. My lovely Blossom,” he rumble-sang, feeling foolish with every cow focused on him. Every cow but Blossom, that is. He had her attention, though. “Blossom. Oh Blossom. I can’t sing, but I can feel. Blossom, oh lovely Blossom. I love you so.”

There was a mixture of moo-sighs from the herd as they walked closer. But he didn’t care. All he wanted was a response from Blossom.

In the next instant she was scrambling from the pond as fast as she could go. She slipped and went down to her knees, smiling at him. Her big brown eyes glistening with tears and sparkling with happiness.

Although he normally detested getting muddy, he raced into the pond. To His Blossom. To his lovely, precious Blossom.