Where There's a Will

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Where There's a Will Page 8

by Brenda Sinclair


  Leonard studied the situation for a moment. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

  “Probably. We’ve seen it in horse care manuals. Even tried versions of it on the ranch back home. Would it work?” She met her brother’s eyes.

  “Will what work?” Adam blurted.

  Leonard pointed upward. “Using a sling. Suppose we tie ropes around the horse’s middle, one near her front legs and another near the back ones. We’d need something to wrap around the ropes to prevent cutting into the mare’s flesh. Then we haul her up using those beams to support most of her weight. If we can get the mare on her feet, Willow might have a better idea of what she’s facing. But she can’t stay up there long, or we risk harm to the expectant mare. The least of which would be chafing from the ropes.”

  “I can better perform an internal examination,” Willow explained. “Maybe the foal will slip into birthing position while we’re getting its mother onto her feet. I doubt turning the foal if it’s only partially in position is possible, but I could grasp a hoof maybe. Otherwise…”

  “I haven’t any better idea. It’s worth a try,” Adam ordered. “Leonard, go fetch more ranch hands to help with the lifting. Davie, round up some strong ropes and sturdy blankets. And shake a leg both of you, we haven’t time to waste.”

  The two men almost tripped over each other hurrying off to carry out the boss’s orders. Willow dropped down beside the mare again, rubbing the animal’s side and talking soothingly.

  Adam crouched down and rested one hand on Willow’s shoulder. “Is this going to work?” he whispered.

  Willow shook her head. “I wish I knew.”

  “Well, we can’t just sit here and watch this horse die. Trying anything is better than doing nothing.” Adam dragged his hand down his face. “If it comes to a choice, save the mare.”

  “My thought always,” she replied.

  “If we lose the foal…” Adam stood, leaving the thought hanging.

  Davie returned with his arms full of ropes. Leonard followed behind him with four other ranch hands, two of them carrying several horse blankets. Tonight’s poker game must have ground to an abrupt halt.

  “Who’s climbing up there?” Adam demanded.

  “I’ll do it,” Davie offered, dropping one end of each of the two long ropes onto the barn floor. He scaled the barn ladder and threw the ropes over the largest beam directly above Lacey, with all ends puddling on the floor below. Then he shimmied down the ladder to help.

  Willow wasn’t certain how Leonard planned to carry out her request, but if ropes and knots were involved, her brother would figure it out. Foremost, the men needed to ensure the rope wasn’t positioned in a way that might jeopardize the foal’s safety while providing a measure of comfort to the mare.

  Several ranch hands wrapped blankets around the ropes before securing them around the mare’s middle, and then with more difficulty and maneuvering than Willow could have imagined, they finally positioned the ropes under the prone horse’s shoulders and hindquarters. The ranch hands stood huffing and sweating; several men wiped their brows on their shirt sleeves. Davie raced up the barn ladder with the rope ends and tossed them over the top in the opposite way he’d done it the first time.

  “Now what?” one of the men muttered.

  Davie scooted down the ladder rungs two at a time, dropping to the floor a moment later.

  Leonard stood hands on hips. “Half the men will pull the ropes in this direction and the rest of you pull the other ends in the opposite direction, lifting the mare. First, we’ll tie a knot at intervals along the ropes to work as hand holds.”

  “To prevent our hands slipping. Got it,” the man closest to Leonard muttered.

  “All right, I understand what you’re doing now,” another hand offered, starting to tie the first knot.

  “Me, too. Let’s do this,” another man added.

  The rest of the hands started tying knots at two-foot intervals along the rope ends.

  “All right, everyone, begin gently pulling,” Adam called, grabbing hold of one of the ropes.

  “We need to hoist Lacey onto her feet, but she’s so tired she probably won’t be able to stand without you continuing to support her weight with the ropes,” Willow warned them.

  For several minutes the men worked to lift the mare, quietly calling orders back and forth, and adjusting the ropes to maximize the leverage while keeping the foal’s location in mind. After several minutes and a half-dozen attempts, they managed to hoist Lacey partway up. The mare attempted to stand and managed to stay upright long enough for them to succeed in helping her onto her feet. But as Willow had warned, the mare supported her own weight for only a few moments. When Lacey appeared ready to collapse, the men sweated and strained, their grip on the ropes holding the horse’s weight and keeping her on her feet.

  “Hurry up and examine this horse,” Adam called to Willow.

  Leonard had fetched a pail of hot, soapy water for her, and she’d dunked her arms into it.

  “Whatever you do, keep her standing,” Willow ordered and slipped one arm inside the laboring mare. A moment later, she gasped. “Flying flapjacks.”

  “What?” Adam called.

  “The foal isn’t breech. And I don’t believe the placenta detached as I feared might be the problem.” Willow glanced at her boss; tears blurred her vision as she withdrew her arm. “Poor girl. No wonder she’s been laboring so long without making progress. This foal is big. And I mean really large.”

  “Is the mare going to…?”

  Willow shook her head, refusing to give up on the horse. “We’ve got to get that foal out… somehow. Lacey’s having contractions but I doubt she’ll birth it without intervention.”

  “We’ve had cows who were overdue, and we birthed large calves, delivering them with help from the ranch hands.” Adam grunted as he, along with the other men, struggled to maintain a hold on the rope. “I’d expect this would be about the same challenge.”

  Willow nodded. “Breech births and large foals present problems. But it’s not impossible to save the mare and foal, if you’re patient and lend the mother a helping hand.”

  “Then what do we do?” Adam met her eyes, grimacing.

  “Gently return Lacey to the floor, please.” Willow wondered what the veterinarians she’d learned her trade from back in Cactus Plains would think of this situation. Would they laugh at her method of handling it? No time to worry about that now. She’d do her best and hope it was enough.

  The men lowered the mare into the straw again and Adam helped settle the mare back on her side. The ranch hands heaved a collective sigh, some rubbing their rope-chaffed hands while others rotated shoulders to relieve cramped muscles. Willow offered them a smile. “I appreciate your help, gentlemen, more than I can say.”

  A round of ‘you’re welcomes’ and ‘happy to do its’ followed while Adam touched Willow’s shoulder and gentled massaged the tight muscles that accompanied her worrying.

  “I’m going to try my best to extract the front hooves. We’ll need a sturdy rope to tie the hooves when they both appear. Then we work with the mare’s contractions, pulling gently to help extract the head and then the entire foal.” Willow wiped her forehead with the sleeve on her cotton shirt. “It might take three men or more to pull.”

  “There are lots of men here if needed,” Adam replied without a moment’s hesitation, glancing at the ranch hands lingering, no doubt concerned how this would all play out. “We can do this.”

  “All right, let’s get started. We’ll assist Lacey in delivering the foal. We’ll worry about problems if or when the time comes.”

  The mare lay on her side, breathing heavily.

  “We can do this,” Leonard whispered, touching his sister’s arm. “At least, we’re giving it a damn good try.”

  Willow met his eyes. “I don’t want to lose her.”

  “Bad things sometimes happen, but whatever the result, I know you’ll have done your b
est, Willow,” Adam encouraged her, in a hushed voice so as not to upset the mare.

  “Simply doing my best isn’t good enough,” she muttered.

  Chapter 12

  Willow crouched behind Lacey and began a second internal examination on the prone mare.

  Leonard touched her shoulder. “I agree, sis. These horses are too important to all of us. We need to do better than simply try.”

  After what seemed an eon of changing position and again slipping her arm inside the mare, she managed to extract one hoof. At the same time, the membrane broke and fluid rushed out in a steady stream drenching her trousers in birthing fluids. Willow wiped the sweat from her brow with her shirt sleeve and slipped her arm inside again to grip the other hoof. Finally, with the second hoof in view, she turned to Adam. “I’m fairly certain these are front hooves. Tie the rope around them, and we’ll try to bring the head into view.”

  “I’ll do it.” Leonard dropped down beside his sister and tied the hooves securely.

  Willow stepped back, never appreciating her brother’s talent with knots more than at this moment. Davie nailed a six-foot-long board into the plank floor for leverage and each man planted a boot against it, bracing himself as best he could while waiting for the female horse wrangler’s instructions. The fact they were taking orders from a girl didn’t seem an issue tonight.

  “We need to be patient. Don’t just pull. That could do considerable harm. Only work with Lacey’s contractions. I’ll tell you when to pull and when to relax.”

  Adam blew out his breath and exchanged a brief look with the other men as he clasped the rope. “Can’t be much different than delivering a large calf.”

  Davie’s face paled considerably, but he gripped the rope tightly. Lacey continued to labor heavily, breathing hard. She lifted her hind leg and a contraction forced more fluid out. “Now,” Willow said. “Pull gently but steadily until I tell you to stop.”

  The men heaved on the rope but to no avail.

  “Stop,” Willow ordered urgently but again with a soft voice. “Wait for another contraction.”

  The men relaxed their grip, wiping their hands on their denims. Willow blew out her breath. She couldn’t imagine the stress a mare endured during the birthing process. Her heartbeat raced as a dozen outcomes played through her mind, and none of them good. She prayed all would be well. If this didn’t work, she hadn’t a clue what they’d attempt next.

  A few seconds later, another contraction hit. “Now,” she whispered. “Same thing again.”

  Moments later, the men smiled and quietly congratulated each other as the foal’s head appeared.

  “Excellent,” Willow whispered. “That was the easy part.”

  “What?” Adam choked out the word.

  “With a foal this size, the shoulders might present the greatest challenge.”

  During the next contraction, Willow’s fears became evident. “The shoulder appears stuck. I need to assist Lacey.” The men repositioned themselves while she scooted over beside the mare.

  “All right, Lacey girl. Let’s try to give you a little help,” she whispered, patting the mare’s hindquarters. Willow slipped her hand inside the mare and worked it around the foal’s shoulder, grimacing as another contraction hit and almost crushed her hand. “Now!” she whispered through the pain.

  The men pulled with their collective might, but with her hand pressed against the shoulder, nothing moved. Willow stifled the curse word that almost slipped past her lips. “Stop. Stop. We need to try that again.”

  The rope relaxed and the contraction subsided. Willow extracted her hand, flexed her fingers, and tried again. She massaged around the shoulder until she estimated the next contraction would start then slipped her hand closer to the opening. “All right, grip the rope and take up the slack but don’t pull.”

  The men carried out her instruction. The moment the contraction began, Willow edged her hand back. “Now.”

  The men immediately pulled and in another second the shoulder slowly slid forward and finally slipped out.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Willow whispered.

  She glanced up at the mare, head lying on the straw and her energy completely spent. Willow slid herself forward in the straw and patted the mare’s neck. Lacey slowly lifted her head and glanced at Willow. “Won’t be long now, Lacey girl. You’re doing so good. Just a few more contractions.”

  The mare’s head dropped and soon another contraction hit.

  “Now,” Willow whispered, glancing at her helpers.

  The three men pulled and suddenly the remainder of the foal slipped out. Willow met eyes with Adam and a wide grin appeared on his face. Leonard tore open the sac and uncovered the back quarters, lifting one leg to take a peek. “It’s a colt. And he’s a big one all right,” he confirmed.

  Willow patted the mare’s neck, as the horse lay exhausted in the straw. “You have a new baby boy. Great job, Lacey girl.”

  “Why isn’t he moving?” Adam inquired.

  Willow crawled across the straw floor and picked up the lifeless animal’s head. “He’s not breathing!”

  “Is that normal?”

  “No, Adam, it’s not normal.” She glanced at Leonard. “Grab a blanket!”

  “We’ve got to do something,” Davie chimed in. “Or is he already…”

  Leonard grabbed a horse blanket hanging over the stall door and dropped down beside his sister. “We need to get him breathing.” He started massaging the colt, rubbing the animal vigorously.

  Willow opened the colt’s mouth and stuck her finger inside, checking if there was a possible obstruction. Mucus. Blood. Anything. She extracted a bit of foreign material, but the colt remained lifeless, unbreathing.

  “Nothing yet?” Adam whispered.

  Willow shook her head. She moved to the front of the colt and pushed on his chest just above the front legs, hoping to encourage a heartbeat.

  Adam dragged his hand down his face. “What can I do?” he muttered.

  “Leonard, blow air into his nose,” Willow ordered, pushing on the colt’s chest.

  “What?” her brother blurted.

  “Do it now,” she ordered.

  Leonard threw the blanket aside and took a deep breath as he cupped his hands around the colt’s muzzle, sealing off the nose.

  “Blow gently and slowly, releasing just a bit of breath at a time,” she instructed.

  Willow continued pushing on the colt’s chest and watched her brother slowly blowing air into the colt’s nose. She breathed heavily from her exertion. “Anything?” she huffed. Her efforts hadn’t proven effective. She’d seen another horseman try it but maybe she wasn’t doing this right.

  “Not sure.” Leonard repeated the blowing and leaned down closer to the colt’s face. “I think he took a breath.”

  The colt opened his eyes and Leonard set his small head down in the straw. After a few moments, the colt lifted his head which wavered in his attempt to look around. The colt flopped back into the straw again, obviously tired from the ordeal of being born.

  “He’s alive!” Adam exclaimed.

  “Sure is,” Leonard confirmed, a broad smile on his face.

  “You did it, Willow!”

  Willow nodded at her boss, fearing she’d burst into tears if she voiced a reply. She stared in wonderment at the new mother and baby. She’d come so close to losing both of them, especially the colt. Thank goodness, they’d saved them. She’d wanted to escape the Double M so badly a while ago, now she wasn’t so certain. The ranch seemed more like home every day, especially during shared moments like this.

  After a half hour, Lacey hefted herself to her feet, the placenta hanging from her body. The colt tried to stand. After several unsuccessful attempts, the little fellow managed to remain balanced on four wobbly legs while his mother licked his side. And then he tumbled into the straw again.

  Willow smiled. He’d attempt it again in a minute or so, and hopefully, he’d discover his mother’s
milk.

  “They’re all right?” Adam whispered, staring at the mare and colt in wonderment, especially having witnessed the close call after the birthing.

  Willow experienced similar emotions: disbelief, thankfulness, relief, exhilaration. “As long as he suckles soon and the placenta passes intact, I believe they’ll both be fine,” Willow whispered, holding back tears.

  They’d done it!

  She’d never birthed such a large colt, and then having to fight for that first breath. Thankfully, the colt had been positioned correctly. If he’d proven breech as well as large, they might never have been able to deliver him. Likely both Lacey and the colt wouldn’t have survived.

  “You did great, Willow. Leonard and Davie can keep watch and ensure nothing goes wrong from here. If they need you, they can come get us,” Adam suggested.

  “No, I should stay and make certain they’re all right.”

  “We know what to watch for, sis. Go catch a few winks.” Leonard waved his sister toward the door.

  “I agree.” Adam placed his hands upon Willow’s shoulders and gently guided her out of the barn.

  They crossed the yard, wordlessly walking side by side. Willow grimaced knowing she must look a fright and smelled like horse to boot. Her clothes were saturated in birthing mess. Approaching the cabin, she decided she really couldn’t care less. As they started up the two wide wooden steps, Willow collapsed onto the bottom one and dropped her head onto her knees. “I never want to face that again. It could have gone so wrong.”

  “But it didn’t.” Adam lifted her into his arms and carried her into the cabin, kicking the door closed with his boot. “Which bedroom is yours?”

  “On the left,” she whispered.

  Adam walked down the hallway and gently deposited her on the bed. He pulled off her boots and grabbed the woolen blanket from the end of the bed. “Get some rest. Do you want me to stay with you?” He tucked the blanket around her, and she settled her head on the pillow.

  A moment later, she was sobbing. Without a word, Adam settled atop the blanket beside her, wrapping her in his arms and letting her cry. Despite the impropriety, Willow snuggled into his warmth and let the comfort of his embrace take away the memory of the difficult birthing she’d overseen.

 

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