by Fox Brison
I grinned. She’d only been here a couple of days but already moved like she owned the kitchen. “Please.”
While Haley set about making the sandwiches, I poured two glasses of milk. We’d barely taken our first bite when the back door flew open. “There you are,” Mom bustled into the kitchen and busied herself with the same blue enamel coffee pot that my Grandpa used when I was a kid. “I was expecting you back an hour ago.”
“Sorry, I was showing Haley the trail horses in the back pasture.”
“And what did you think, Haley?”
“I think they look great. You have a good mix for all abilities. From what I’ve seen the last few days this ranch is going to be a roaring success, and I’m starting to worry there won’t be any room for me when I come and visit.”
“We’ll always make room for you.” I said and I don’t think it was lost on any of us how different my response was to the one I gave the first day Haley had sat in this kitchen.
“Can I make you something to eat? You look like you’ve been working hard.” Haley broke both the quiet and my mother’s incredulous stare of ‘you’ve changed your tune.’ Or was it a knowing stare of ‘I can guess what happened to you to make you change your tune.’ Even though she’d be wrong. Wanting something to happen is totally different from it actually happening.
Right?
It was then I noticed Mom’s appearance. She was flushed, sweaty and had a smudge of dirt across her nose. “What have you been up to?” I asked. On second thoughts do I really want to know?
“You mentioned before you left that Jack and Jen would need some privacy, so me and Colin have been getting the love shack ready. Needed a mighty good clean, but it’s done. We took out the furniture this morning and I’ve just finished dressing the bed.”
“You can’t expect Jen to sleep in the love shack!” I said, appalled. “It’s beyond basic.”
“It’s not that bad, it has an indoor toilet,” she protested as if this was the height of luxury. “But no, I don’t expect Jen to live in the love shack. I expect you to live in it.”
I stood up, a touch annoyed. I hated when my Mom did this, when she made decisions for me; the most annoying part was nine times out of ten she was right. “What about my stuff?” I suddenly panicked. I had a few accessories I really didn’t want Mom or Colin to see.
“It’s all moved,” Mom said smugly, clearly pleased with herself. “I didn’t touch your personal belongings, I reckoned you’d want to sort them out yourself.”
“That’s kind of you,” I said, a mite sarcastically and utterly relieved.
“The love shack?” Haley asked smiling obviously trying to ease the building tension. “Sounds interesting. Where, and more importantly, what is it?”
“You know I told you about the cabin I built near Mudpie Pond?” I said and she nodded. “I needed my own space away from interfering old coots.” I looked straight at my Mom
“More like when you needed a place to bring your women home,” Mom interjected and I nearly reached for the skillet.
“Is it far?” Haley asked. I could see her shoulders shaking as she tried not to laugh.
“A two minute ride, ten, fifteen minute walk. It’s out beyond the back field.”
“Well I’ve nothing else planned for the next hour, how about you show me this place you built?” Haley stood and took my hand. And I paid no heed to my Moms self-satisfied air, because all I could focus on was Haley’s hand in mine.
And how I never wanted to let it go.
***
“This place is beautiful,” Haley said when we arrived at the little two room cabin sitting on the edge of the water. It had taken nearer to half an hour to reach because we stopped to pick wildflowers, “To brighten the cabin,” as she put it.
“Yup.”
And it was. The pond was too big to be a pond and too small to be a lake. It was merely a widening and a deepening of the creek at this point. The small fishing dock Jack and I had built dipped its toes in the shallows and reeds circled the edge. A small copse of willows I’d planted were gaining in maturity and slightly further away was another reed bed that was used for sewerage. I was nothing but organic in the love shack – I had no choice. On its north east side was a stand of pines and the cabin was in front of these looking out over the water. There was a newer stable attached which was virtually the same size as the cabin itself.
It looked like it belonged in the era of the Louisiana purchase, but it was home.
“I added the wraparound porch a few years back and was thinking about an addition, but once my Grandpa took ill I was needed up at the house more,” I said, opening the door and standing back so Haley could pass by me.
The interior was even more rustic, but Mom had made a real effort to make it welcoming. The large main room was split into two distinct areas. A large bespoke bookcase partition separated the small sleeping area from the main living area and housed many of my prized possessions; photos of my family, a couple of rodeo trophies, many of the books I wiled away the cold and lonely winter with and a few wood carvings.
“What’s this?” Haley picked one up and squinted as she turned it over in her hand.
“Oh that’s meant to be a bald eagle.” Colin had tried teaching me whittling when I was younger. I was about as creative as a blind bison and the carving Haley was holding looked more like two frogs mating.
I quickly moved her away from the rest of my carving catastrophes.
The kitchen was tiny; it didn’t get much use and the only thing I ever cooked here was coffee. But there was a stove, that was kind of essential because it also heated the cabin. There were new rugs on the wooden floor, but the pictures on the wall were all old favourites. “I love this painting,” Haley said her head cocked and a soft smile lighting up her eyes as she admired a watercolour of the pond at sunset.
“Mom did that one.”
“Really? Gosh she’s talented.” Her finger trailed over the golden highlights lighting the pond from the dying sun.
“That she is. Hasn’t had much time for it lately. Hopefully once Jen and Jack are settled in, she’ll take an interest again.”
***
After the grand tour Haley and I sat on the dock, our feet hanging down and brushing the surface of the water. I felt like a kid again – all that was missing was my fishing pole. “Can I change my mind,” Haley said quietly.
“Excuse me?” it came out a little dubious, a touch hopeful and maybe just a bit excited because in my head I was sure I heard “Can I change my mind because I don’t want to be friends, I want you to take me inside and make love to me.”
What she actually said was, “I think right here is where I could spend eternity.”
Damnit.
“So, this is where you brought your women?” There was a teasing lilt to her question, but I hurried to set her straight.
“Mom makes it sound like there was a revolving door! There was one. I brought one woman here!” I said emphatically.
“She was special?” Haley picked at a thread on her shirt.
“Not special enough as it turned out. She was a city girl at heart and didn’t understand my bond with this place. I couldn’t leave and she couldn’t stay.”
“And as we said, long distance clearly doesn’t work.”
“No, it doesn’t. At some point someone has to give up a part of themselves.” I said with resignation.
“And you weren’t willing?” She studied my face whilst I considered my answer.
“Not then.”
“And now?”
I stared into her beautiful blue eyes.
“Now I’d willingly give the whole of me for even a chance of a small part of-”
“Dani!” Mom called from the truck. “There’s a suit at the house says he’s from the oil company!”
Shit. “Duty calls.” I grinned sheepishly, secretly glad of the interruption. My defences had been breached and I was about to bare my soul, which would have been
damned unfair of me.
I just could’ve done without this particular interruption.
***
“Ms Robbins, Mike Standing.” It was obvious he was from the oil company because there was a slick from his car to where he stood.
“Mr Standing, I don’t know what we can do for you.” I wasn’t in the mood for niceties.
“It’s more what I can do for you, lil lady. We sent you several letters, but they seemed to have been misplaced.”
I saw Mom and Colin wince. I wasn’t a feminist, nor someone who would take offence at old time manners. I did, however, take offence at patronising condescension. Those twin attributes were a huge pet hate of mine.
“Not misplaced. I filed them in the fire,” I said grimly.
“You play hard ball Ms Robbins, perhaps this will soften your stance?” He held a piece of paper in his hand, “It’s a generous offer for your land near Wolf Rock.”
“Nope.”
“All we want is to drill some exploratory wells. It won’t cause any damage,” he persisted.
“Nope.
“It’s for a lot of money, money I know you need.”
“Nope.”
“Ms Robbins-”
“Mr Standing, you’ve offered, I’ve declined, so unless you want my Momma to come at you with her shotgun, and she did it to my own daddy so rest assured she won’t hesitate, I suggest you git off my property.”
I came across more country in that moment, but it wasn’t a bad thing to show him he wasn’t dealing with a sagebrush lizard that would drop her tail and run. No. He was dealing with a bonafide cowgirl who was used to handling prairie rattlesnakes. I hadn’t been bitten yet and no oil man in a shiny suit was going to spoil my record.
“Things can change very quickly Ms Robbins, this offer will not be on the table once I leave here,” he warned, ominously.
“Mom, looks like we have ourselves a trespasser.” I heard the familiar action of the pellets being loading into the chamber of my Grandpa’s antique shotgun.
“You will regret this, Ms Robbins, I promise you that.” Mr Standing jumped in his car and drove off in a cloud of dust.
“Circle the wagons, Momma,” I said softly, “I don’t think that’s the last we’ll see of Mr Standing.”
Chapter 31
Haley
My body clock was all over the place because of the time difference and the alcohol I’d been knocking back. Or perhaps my insomnia had something to do with what had nearly happened between Dani and I before Nora interrupted us at the cabin.
Probably a bit of everything.
Dani and I were petrol and a match; every time I got close to her, every time I smelt her scent, every time I watched her laugh or smile, I felt twinges in my abdomen that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with attraction. An attraction that was combustible if I wanted it to be. I sighed, because it made me question my relationship with Dawn even more. If I was already falling for another woman, scarcely a month out of our liaison, did I ever truly love her?
It was late, well after midnight, but the moon was still pretty much full and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky to dull its brilliance. I grabbed Dani’s torch and headed for the large barn scarcely a hundred feet from the main house. Dani had said that Stormy was getting close to foaling and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check in on her. Horses, in fact animals in general, prefer to give birth during the night hours because there are less predators about, but it made checking in on them a tiring business. I’d spent many a night on a small cot in a Newmarket stable waiting for the arrival of a foal. I heard a small whinny and tilted my head, frowning. So that doesn’t sound good.
Not good at all.
The barn door creaked open and a small patch of ghostly moonlight illuminated the walkway. I frowned again. There was an unusual sound, not one associated with giving birth coming from one of the stalls… something was wrong. I followed the noise until I reached the beautiful grey Dani had introduced me to that morning lying on her side; there was clearly a problem with the birthing process. Shit. The horse was pushing yet there was no sign of the foal. I shone the torch towards the horse’s vulva.
Double shit.
My eyes widened and I immediately reached into my fleece pocket for my mobile phone. Stormy was experiencing a red bag delivery, which basically meant the placenta was trapping the foal inside her, with no oxygen supply. I tapped on my phone and Dani answered, but I cut her questions short.
“No time to talk, just listen. Phone your vet and bring a clean pair of scissors to the barn. And a bottle of whiskey.” I hung up and focussed on Stormy. I stroked her nose and spoke soothing nonsensical half sentences. Minutes passed, precious minutes, desperate minutes where I checked the barn for something sharp to cut the bag; the scarlet sack protruding from Stormy gave the impression she was giving birth to the devil himself, and by this stage I wasn’t as worried about infection brought about by unsterilized tools as I was about hypoxia.
Dani was cutting it close.
Any longer and we would lose the foal.
I heard the barn door open and seconds later, Dani, out of breath, was beside me, the bottle of whiskey tucked under her arm, the scissors in her hand and I quickly went to work.
I began praying that Stormy hadn’t been in labour for too long before I’d arrived, because anything longer than six minutes and nothing I did would make a blind bit of difference in saving the foal. I poured the whiskey over the scissor blades hoping this would provide some sterilisation. They weren’t surgical but they were sharp and would have to do. I began to cut the velvety red sack so I could reach the amnion, or white bag, which contained the foetus. The difficulty was not nipping the distressed foal in the process which would drastically reduce its chances of survival even more.
And they were slim enough as it was.
Dani’s eyes glistened. She didn’t speak or move, immobilised by fear.
Beads of sweat peppered my brow. I’d only ever come across this kind of delivery once before and it didn’t end well; we lost the foal due to hypoxia, a lack of oxygen, and then the mare a day later through infection. Everything was a rush, everything was methodical, a juxtaposition that tightened every nerve in my body. Bags cut, I reached inside and readied to pull the foal out in time with the next contraction. Down and towards the mare’s hind legs… “C’mon, Hales, c’mon baby,” I whispered to myself and the foal. Taking a deep breath I counted to three then pulled the foal free and was immediately doused in the amniotic fluid that followed.
The foal didn’t move.
I quickly pulled the prone body to one side; thankfully the umbilical broke because I didn’t have any sterile string or wire to tie it off and we had enough stacked against us without adding in the risk of septicaemia. I positioned the tiny foal in the recovery position.
“It’s not breathing.” Dani sobbed.
I didn’t have a stethoscope so couldn’t check definitively. There was nothing else for it.
“Dani remove your shirt.” She didn’t hesitate and did exactly as I asked.
I vigorously dried the foals head and then clearing the fluid from its nostril I poked it with straw in an attempt to instigate a natural reflex. Still nothing. “C’mon,” I whispered again, “breathe.” Last chance saloon. I had no intubation equipment so it was going to have to done the old fashioned way. I blocked the nostril closest to the ground and then blew into the top one, a long blow followed by seven or eight rapid shorter breaths. I knelt back and watched the chest for signs of… breathe damnit.
There!
Yes!
Movement.
The foal was breathing by itself.
Chapter 32
Dani
It was barely five am and Haley and I were sitting on the porch watching the sun rise; a hell of a lot had happened since we watched the sun set eight hours previously. Doc Rogers and Amy had only just left. Amy gave Stormy and Red (the foal’s name which Haley had suggested b
ecause of how he’d entered the world and which I thought was perfect) a thorough examination supervised, not by her Grandfather, but by Haley on my insistence. My stringent insistence. Amy took bloods and administered the first in a course of antibiotics to Stormy for the infection that Haley suspected was the cause of the premature placental separation.
Miraculously, early signs were good. Both mother and son appeared none the worse for their ordeal, although Haley cautioned only time would tell with Red.
“How did I miss it, more to the point how did Doc Rogers and Amy miss it?” I asked exasperatedly.
“There might not have been anything there to miss,” Haley said. She looked beautiful but utterly exhausted. “From what I can gather Stormy didn’t present with any of the usual symptoms… dripping milk or vaginal discharge which would normally suggest this type of infection.” She shrugged but it wasn’t apathetic or nonchalant. It was a shrug of dissatisfaction. “It’s simply one of those things, Dani. Stormy is obviously the suffer in silence type, but by God she’s a great Mum and Red’s a little fighter. She wasted no time getting him on the teat and his sucking reflexes are quite remarkable considering what he’s just been through.”
As I listened to Haley talking something happened, it was like a nest of fire ants had exploded in my gut; I’d never experienced a feeling quite so intense before. “They’d both be dead if you hadn’t been here,” I whispered as she stood and stretched her back in the pale morning light. She smiled at me, a smile filled with muscle pain and relief. “And to think you almost weren’t because I was such a...”
“Hey, don’t.” She dropped down to her knees in front of me and tilted her head under my ducked chin so she could look into my eyes. We sat in that position for several seconds feasting on each other’s emotions. It was as charged as forked lightning. Finally, she broke the silence. “I was here and that’s all that matters.”
“I don’t think Amy would’ve been able to do what you did,” I pointed out with a heartfelt sigh. Haley’s hands were still resting on my thighs and she gripped them.
