by Jennie Marts
She had taken on this horse without a clue in the world how to care for it or her baby. Then she’d taken on another one and another one still. In a matter of minutes, she was going to be the proud owner of four horses. Not to mention seven dogs, several cats, a cantankerous goat, and a curvaceous hog…er, pig. This was real. And it wasn’t something she could just change her mind and back out of. Every one of these animals was now depending on her. She was doing this thing, starting a horse rescue, and she was doing it on her own. Truly on her own.
She’d just kicked her brother out. And by not showing up tonight, Zane had made it perfectly clear he didn’t want to be part of her life. It was all up to her to feed and care for all these animals, and there were probably more to come.
When Zane had hung the sign and she’d registered the business, it had felt real, but not like this. Not like stepping into a stall that smelled of fear and sweat and urine and trying to convince a distraught and hurting horse in labor that she needed to stand up and move to another part of the stall. This was the real deal, where the rubber met the road, and there was no going back.
It didn’t matter that her hands were shaking and her heart was thrashing against her chest. She was scared, but so was Beauty. And they were in this together.
“It’s okay, girl. I’m not gonna hurt you,” she told the horse, taking another tentative step toward her. “I’m sorry, but you gotta get up.”
Beauty swung her head, biting at her haunches, then moaning as her huge belly contracted. Bryn reached for her halter, slipping her fingers under the fabric. “Come on, Mama. You gotta move.”
The horse pulled back, trying to free her head. Bryn held on. I can do this. I have to do this. She leaned back, putting her weight into it as she pulled on the halter. “Come on, girl.”
The horse strained against her, letting out a hard bellow as another six inches of spindly legs appeared.
“Please, Beauty, you’ve got to get up.” Sweat broke out on Bryn’s neck and her arms trembled, but she fought the urge to panic as she pulled again, her need to help the horses, her horses, outweighing her fear. She had to move her. Before it was too late.
This time the horse rocked and moaned and pushed to her feet.
“Good girl, you did it!” Tears welled in Bryn’s eyes, but she blinked them back as she led Beauty to the middle of the stall. The horse followed her a few yards, then went down to her knees again and rolled to her side. But it was enough to give her space to push the foal out.
Bryn patted the horse’s neck and slipped out of the stall. She didn’t want to upset the horse any more than she already had. “You’re doing great, girl,” she cooed, then gasped in amazement as another contraction hit, and the horse pushed the foal’s head out. “Keep going, Mama. You’re almost there.”
The horse heaved and moaned, then pushed again. The foal’s shoulders broke free, and the front hooves tore the sac. Another push, and the back legs were out.
The foal was here. “You did it, Mama. You did it,” Bryn cried, pressing her hands to her chest.
The last push had drawn the sac back from the legs, but it was caught on the foal’s head, the white casing covering its mouth and nose.
The foal wasn’t moving.
It didn’t shift its legs or try to lift its head. It just lay there.
Beauty raised her head in an attempt to get to the foal, but the effort was too much for her, and she dropped her head back into the straw.
Bryn held her breath, willing the baby to move, praying for its tiny chest to rise and fall, for it to wiggle its head free of the membrane. But it didn’t budge.
Its small body lay deathly still.
Chapter 20
Bryn had to do something.
Zane had told her when the foal came that it was important to try not to touch it and to stay out of the way of the baby’s time to imprint on the mother. Bryn knew the first minutes were important, but she couldn’t just stand there.
Not when the foal couldn’t breathe. She had to do something. She opened the gate and raced to the foal. Falling to her knees, she lifted the foal’s head.
The milky white membrane was thick and slick with fluid. She grabbed the edge and pulled it back, desperately trying to free the foal’s mouth and nose. The tissue tore and pulled away, and Bryn pushed it off the foal’s head and down its body.
The foal’s head lay in the straw and Bryn lifted it again, clearing away fluid from its nose and rubbing the sides of its head. “Please, baby, please. Come on. Breathe.”
Its head lolled to the side. No! Bryn rubbed harder, praying at the same time. “Please God, please God, please God.”
The foal gave a sharp gasp followed by a snuffling sneeze. Bryn slumped forward, feeling giddy and drained at the same time. Her mouth was dry, and she let out a shaky laugh as she hugged her arms around her middle, pressing her hands to her sides to control their trembling.
Beauty raised her head and peered at her baby as the foal kicked its legs and flopped forward in the straw. Wanting to give the mother and baby bonding time, Bryn pushed to her feet and eased back.
Turning around, she gave a start and let out a little yelp at the figure of a man in a cowboy hat standing in the shadows of the stall.
“It’s about time you got here,” she spat at him, the relief at saving the foal replaced with anger at Zane.
But it wasn’t Zane who stepped out of the shadows and held up his hands. “Sorry, I came as fast as I could.”
Her shoulders slumped forward and her chin drooped to her chest. “Sorry, Brody. I thought you were Zane.”
Brody held the door of the stall open then shut it after she’d walked through. “Looks like you didn’t need either one of us.” He tilted his head and studied her. “You okay?”
She pressed her lips together, fighting the emotions that struggled to break loose, as she carefully nodded her head.
He smiled and held his arms out. “Come here.”
She took a shuddering breath and stepped into his open arms.
* * *
Zane heard their voices as he slipped quietly into the barn. He’d seen Brody’s truck, so he knew the vet was here. He’d almost left when he’d seen his rig, but he figured the reason he was there had to do with Beauty, and Zane’s concern for the horse and the foal drove him to sneak into the barn, just to see how they were doing.
He didn’t expect to see Bryn stepping out of the stall and into Brody’s arms. Her arms clutched his back and her shoulders shook like she was crying.
Damn. Had something happened to the horse? Or the foal? He took another step forward, trying to see into the stall without letting on that he was there and breaking up their intimate moment.
Bryn pulled away and swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying. Everything’s okay now. I guess I was just scared.”
Brody put a hand on Bryn’s arm. Heat rose up Zane’s back, and he wanted to knock the guy’s hand away. “It’s okay,” Brody told Bryn. “I’m sure you were scared. But you handled the crisis and saved the foal’s life.” He looked over her shoulder and into the stall. “Mama and baby look like they’re doing just fine.”
Relief flooded through Zane’s body. Thank God. Both horses were doing okay. So he could leave now. Except his feet weren’t moving, and his gaze was solidly stuck to the expression on Bryn’s face as she gazed up at Brody.
“Thanks for coming all the way out here. I really appreciate you being here for me,” she told him.
That mass of guilt that had been churning in his gut started tumbling again.
A hard ache ripped through his chest as he watched Brody lift his hand and cup Bryn’s cheek.
“I’ll always be here for you, Bryn.”
She gazed up at the vet, a sweet smile on her face, as she covered his hand with hers and leaned he
r cheek into his palm.
Zane had to turn away. Had to get away. This was what he’d wanted. This was the way it was supposed to be. Bryn deserved a guy like Brody, and with Zane out of the picture, everything would fall into place. Just like it was supposed to.
He slipped back out the door, his feet itching to run as he sprinted toward the highway.
* * *
Bryn held Brody’s hand against her face. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. Especially after the day I’ve had today. And I’ll always be here for you too.” She squeezed his hand. “You are such an amazing guy. You are just the kind of man I’ve dreamed of finding and falling in love with.”
“But?”
“But…” She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I can’t fall for you because I’m already in love with someone else.” Whether he wanted her or not, she was in love with Zane, and it was going to take a lot to get over that. And as much as she wished the cute doctor could be the remedy for her heartbreak, she knew he wasn’t the cure. “I wish I could be there for you in the way you want me to be.”
He offered her a knowing smile. “You are, Bryn. You’re my friend. And that’s really all I need right now.” He pulled his hand away and scrubbed it across the back of his neck. “I know I asked you out on a date, but that was more because my mom has been pressuring me to get back out in the dating world. I figured because we were already friends, you were a safe way to attempt my first date since Mary died.”
Bryn smiled up at him. “And how did you think it went?”
“I think it was awkward and uncomfortable and also kind of nice. I really like you, Bryn. You’re gorgeous and funny and smart, but I just don’t think we have that connection. I know what real love is, and frankly, I’m not ready for that again.”
She nodded her head. “I know. I feel the same way about you—you’re gorgeous and funny and smart too. And I adore Mandy.” She shrugged again. “But I’d still really like to be friends.”
“Oh heck yes. I want that too. And Mandy would kill me if I wrecked anything between us and she didn’t get to hang out with you anymore.”
“So we’re good?”
He smiled. “We’re good.” His lips tightened at the corners of his smile. “Although speaking purely as your friend, I am a little worried about you.”
She was a little worried about her too. “I know,” she whispered, already guessing what he was going to say.
“Zane’s a tough guy. He’s been through a lot and has a pretty rough history.”
Why did everyone always bring up Zane’s history? No wonder the guy wanted to stay away from Creedence. No one would let him forget his past.
“He just seems like a hard guy to hand your heart to,” Brody continued. “You sure you trust him with it?”
“No,” she answered. “But it’s too late now. I already gave it to him. And you wouldn’t want my heart anyway,” she said, trying to control the tremble in her voice. “Because I’m pretty sure he already broke it.” She swallowed back the lump in her throat and squeezed her eyes against the tears that were trying to sneak out.
Brody swore. “He’s an idiot.”
She tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a sigh. She forced her lips into a brave smile. “Enough about me. How’s Hope doing? Is she feeling better today?” Bryn’s stomach clenched at the frown that appeared on Brody’s face.
“You know, I thought she was doing okay this morning, but when I left the clinic tonight, she still hadn’t eaten. And she’s been really lethargic—not her usual self. I’m glad she’s staying another night, just so we can keep an eye on her.”
“Should I go over there and see her?”
“Nah. You’ve got enough on your plate for tonight.” He pointed to the stall where the foal was standing on wobbly legs next to Beauty and the mama horse was licking her baby’s head. “You know, dogs are pretty devoted animals, and they can sense mood shifts and emotions in their owners. They can get depressed and despondent over the behavior of their alpha. So to be honest with you, I don’t think you’re the one she’s waiting to see.”
* * *
Brody was right, Bryn thought the next morning as she stared down at Hope’s listless body. The dog did seem sad. Other than a small tail wag of greeting when Bryn first walked into the room, she’d barely lifted her head from the table. She looked pitiful in the harsh lights of the exam room. Her fur was still streaked with mud and blood, and a big patch of her fur had been shaved away from her abdomen and covered in bandages.
A vet tech walked into the room and smiled at Bryn. “Hey, girl, how are you doin’?”
“Hey, Maria, I’m doing okay. Better than Hope here.” Bryn knew the other woman from school. Maria had been a few years behind her, but they’d had a few classes together and the other woman and her family often came into the diner to eat.
“Yeah. Health-wise, Doc says she should be okay. The surgery went fine, and most of the other cuts and abrasions are superficial.”
“Then why does she seem so sad? She looks like she just lost her best friend.” I know the feeling.
“She did,” Maria said. “In a sense. Dogs are really in tune with their owners, and shake-ups in that relationship can affect them and can affect their recovery. We think she’s just missing Zane.”
“Has he been back in to see her yet?” Bryn brushed her hand over the dog’s neck as she asked the question with what she hoped was nonchalance.
Maria shook her head. “No. But I wouldn’t imagine he would. Not with his dad being in the hospital and all.”
“Hospital?”
“Yeah, didn’t you hear? Birch had another heart attack night before last. Friend of mine is a nurse over there, and she said he came in by ambulance. Zane stayed with him through the night and most of the day yesterday. Poor guy is probably wiped out. I guess it makes sense why he hasn’t visited the dog yet.”
Bryn was glad something made sense because nothing else seemed to be making sense to her right now. She gave the dog one last cuddle. “I’ve got to go. But one of us will be back to pick her up later.”
“I’d call first. If she’s still not eating, I’m not sure Doc’s gonna let her go home.”
Bryn walked out of the vet clinic and looked up and down the road, as if Zane might have left a trail of breadcrumbs when he’d left. She had no idea where to find him. She tried his phone again, no answer, then drove to his house, figuring it would be the most obvious place to check first. But no one answered her knock.
The curtains of the front window were open and she peered in, wondering if she might see him asleep on the sofa. But the living room was empty. She did spot his cell phone and a wadded up bag of chips on the floor in the corner though. So at least one mystery was solved.
She could try the hospital next. Or Logan’s. But surely he didn’t go to work. She pulled out her phone and dialed Logan’s number.
He answered on the first ring. “Hey, Bryn.”
“Hey, Logan. Is he there?” Neither of them had to clarify who she meant.
“Yeah. His rig is in the driveway, and I saw him carrying some steel posts out to the north pasture. He’s been talking about fixing a section of fence by the pond there. But he’s in a helluva mood, so if you’ve got a choice, you might steer clear of him for a bit today.”
“Thanks for the advice, but it seems I don’t have a choice. I’m heading your way now.”
“Your decision. When you get here, just walk out that little trail to the north of the barn. You’ll find him.”
She was already in her car and headed toward the highway by the time she clicked off. She swallowed and tried to even out her breathing. Her heart was slamming against her chest, and she was equal parts mad and sad he hadn’t called to tell her about his dad—hell, that he’d chosen not to call her at all.
Was she running a fo
ol’s errand, racing out to see him when his actions were making it quite clear he didn’t want to see her? She didn’t know why she was in such an awful hurry. She had no idea what she was going to say when she got there.
Fifteen minutes later, she parked next to his truck and picked her way down the trail to the pond on the north side of Logan’s barn. It was easy enough to find Zane—she just followed the path and the sound of hammering and his occasional swearing.
She came around the corner and saw him working on a bit of fence. He was shirtless and swinging a hammer, the muscles of his body flexed and tense. Heck, if she hadn’t known what she was going to say before, she was speechless now.
The man looked like a Greek god, if a Greek god wore a tool belt and had been scarred by the torturous hands of his own father. Wait—that actually did sort of sound like a Greek tragedy. Oh gosh, she was getting way off track here. Suffice it to say, he looked hot as hell. Her legs turned to huckleberry jelly, and a fluttering started in her belly at the sight of him.
Zane looked up as she approached, his expression as hard as his muscles as he glared at her. “What the hell are you doing here?” His eyes cut to his shirt hanging on a fence post a few yards away. She could almost see the internal debate of if he should grab it and cover his back or not.
In the end, he stood his ground, pulling his shoulders back and standing even taller than he normally did. She assumed he took the stance as a way to intimidate her, but in fact it did the opposite. It softened her. The fact that he didn’t cover himself—that he wore his scars in front of her, even as a shield—told her they’d crossed a major barrier in the huge wall of defense Zane had built around himself.
She swallowed, wishing she’d brought her bottle of water from the car. Her mouth was as dry as her great-aunt’s Sunday pot roast. And there wasn’t enough gravy in Colorado to moisten that roast. “I heard about your dad.”
He shrugged. “So?”
Wow. This guy was tough. His expression didn’t change a smidge. “So is he okay?”
