"What happened?"
Owen glanced at her.
"Animal's been favoring the left rear leg."
Silas frowned.
"She's got to get into the shelter before the weather turns."
One of the hands tugged the rope again.
The cow resisted.
Eleanor moved closer.
"Wait."
Silas looked toward her.
"What?"
She examined the animal.
Its breathing was rapid.
Its eyes were wide.
And the left rear leg trembled whenever it shifted weight.
"She's frightened."
Silas sighed.
"She's also stubborn."
Eleanor looked toward him.
"Perhaps because she's in pain."
He frowned.
"I know she's in pain."
"Then dragging her won't make her easier to move."
The young ranch hand looked toward Silas.
Owen remained quiet.
For a moment, Eleanor realized what she'd done.
She had contradicted the ranch owner in front of his men.
In Boston, her father would have considered it an unforgivable breach of manners.
Silas's expression hardened.
"Eleanor, step back."
She stared.
The words hurt more than she expected.
He continued.
"This isn't the place for an argument."
She glanced toward the cow.
Then back at him.
"I'm not arguing. I'm asking you to stop hurting her."
The young hand released the rope.
Silas's jaw tightened.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then he looked toward Owen.
"Fetch the stockman. We need that leg examined."
Owen nodded.
The men stepped away.
Eleanor felt relieved.
But Silas didn't look pleased.
He turned toward her.
"Inside."
She blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"We'll talk inside."
Her cheeks warmed.
For a moment, she wanted to refuse.
Then she saw the ranch hands watching.
She realized that a public confrontation might make everyone defensive.
So she nodded.
"Very well."
She returned to the house.
Silas followed a few minutes later.
He closed the door carefully.
Then turned.
"Eleanor."
She folded her arms.