by Home Fires
“Take it easy, Sophie,” Casie said, though her own nerves were cranked pretty tight. “Let’s just let nature take its course.”
“Nature!” Sophie turned on her. “There’s nothing natural about this. Natural was taken away when she was tied up in a stall so narrow she couldn’t even—”
“Sophie,” Casie said. “Quiet down.”
The barn fell silent. Only the mare’s soft grunts could be heard. In a minute she had stretched out flat. Sweat darkened her flanks and neck.
“There!” Emily said, trying to peer past the mare’s tail. “Is that a hoof?”
The mare groaned long and low.
Sophie jerked toward the stall, but Casie grabbed her arm and reeled her back.
“Just wait.”
“She’s dying.”
“She’s not dying,” Emily said. Her voice was soft, reverent with hope and trembling excitement. “She’s creating life.”
They waited in silence. Sophie clutched Casie’s left sleeve. Emily was holding her breath.
The lone hoof emerged farther.
“One leg’s back. It’s malpositioned,” Sophie whispered, but just then the other front foot slipped into view. It was followed by a dark nose encased in a bluish-white sac. It slipped farther into the world and drooped toward the well-bedded floor. The mare groaned, heaved, then lay panting.
“We’ve got to help her,” Sophie rasped.
“She’s as flighty as a jackrabbit,” Casie said. “We don’t want to scare her.”
Sophie bit her lip. “Better that than losing the baby.”
Casie scowled, then nodded in silent agreement.
“Easy, girl,” Sophie said and took a step into the stall.
Casie let her go.
“Freedom?” Sophie said. Nothing happened. The mare remained flat out on the straw, neck stretched forward, legs straight and stiff.
The foal, still wrapped in its gauzy sac, still caught half inside its mother’s body, was as motionless as the mare.
“Get the afterbirth off its nose,” Casie instructed quietly.
Sophie did as ordered. Casie snuck forward, fear squeezing her chest. If they lost this foal, both girls would be inconsolable.
“Tug on the legs,” Casie instructed. “Nice and gentle.”
Sophie shifted her terrified gaze to Casie’s, swallowed, then wrapped her fingers firmly around the foal’s fetlocks.
Freedom’s eyes widened. She lifted her head slightly, then glanced back over her misshapen belly. Her gut contracted. Sophie pulled harder, and the foal, slippery as an eel, slithered onto the straw.
“She did it,” Sophie crooned.
The mare, relieved and anxious, gathered her legs beneath her and pushed onto her feet. She turned a rapid circle and nickered low in her throat, but the foal remained unmoving.
“He’s not breathing,” Sophie said. “I don’t think he’s breathing!”
“Stick a straw in his nostril,” Casie said, rushing up. “If that doesn’t work we’ll—”
But at that moment the little creature sneezed noisily and shook its wobbly head.
There was a communal sigh of relief, followed by a bevy of activity. Emily applied iodine to the baby’s navel as she’d done a hundred times with calves. Casie removed the afterbirth, which had already dropped away from the mare.
“Look at him,” Em cooed, fingers pressed to her mouth. He was already preparing to rise, rubbery hooves braced in unlikely positions in an effort to do so. He heaved shakily upward on crooked legs, finding his balance against all odds.
“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Sophie sighed.
Watching the ribby, ungainly newborn shake its knobby head, Casie was sure Emily would disagree, but perhaps her maternal hormones had already kicked in full force.
“He is.” She breathed the words between her fingers, eyes bright with tears. “He’s just perfect.”
Casie smiled, reveling in this moment of solidarity. But in that second the mare staggered toward the wall. Emily jumped out of her way. Freedom stumbled, trying to correct herself, but she fell to her knees and then onto her side.
“No!” Sophie gasped.
Casie swore. Emily backed against a wall, wide eyed.
“Call the vet!” Casie rasped. But Sophie was already doing just that. They could hear the answering service on the end of the line. The mare thrashed a little, the motion weak and disjointed.
“Keep her down,” Casie ordered. “Sit on her head!”
Sophie shoved her phone in her pocket and did as told. “What’s wrong?”
Casie’s mind was spinning. “I don’t know. Too much blood loss? Calcium deficiency? It could be anything.”
“Maybe it’s dehydration.”
“I don’t—”
“Help her,” Sophie pleaded, and there was something in the girl’s tone, a desperate hopefulness that snapped a half dozen decisions firmly into place in Casie’s mind.
“Keep her steady. I’ll get the IV,” Casie said and rushed out the door. Fingers trembling, she untied the fluids bag from the front of Angel’s stall and hurried it next door. “Find me a vein.”
“What?” Sophie’s eyes were wide with terror.
“The vein, in the neck. You saw them do it to Angel.”
“I watched a guy saw a lady in half, too. It doesn’t mean I can replicate—”
“Just do it!”
The two of them huddled together over the mare. The animal’s eyes were glassy, her body frightfully still as Sophie ran a trembling hand down the length of her neck.
“There!” Casie said. “Push up there.”
Sophie jabbed with her thumb, but no vein bubbled above her fingers.
“Push harder!”
A blood vessel bulged away from the mare’s chestnut hide.
Taking a trembling breath, Casie jabbed the needle into the swelling and jerked her head toward Emily. “Open it up.”
“What?”
“The IV,” she snapped. “Turn the screw.”
“How far?” Emily’s voice was almost inaudible.
“All the way.” She had no idea what she was doing. Might as well go for broke.
All eyes turned to the IV bag. No one spoke. Hell, no one breathed. And then the clear liquid began to flow out of the plastic and into the vein.
“Okay,” Emily murmured. “Okay.”
“Don’t move, Soph,” Casie warned. If the needle came out of the vein, they were screwed … if they weren’t regardless. “Get some tape, Em.”
“Tape? Like …”
Freedom shifted her right foreleg.
“Hurry,” Casie said, and Emily catapulted from the stall.
In less than a minute she had returned. “How is she?” Her voice was breathless. She was holding a roll of silver duct tape in her hand. Casie raised her brows.
“It holds the rest of the ranch together, so I figured—” Emily began, but there was no time for explanations.
“Tear off a piece and tape down the needle,” Casie ordered.
Emily swallowed and moved closer. In a moment the needle was strapped to the mare’s neck. She remained exactly as she was, eyes unblinking, body immobile.
“Okay.” Casie said the word softly. “Now a longer strip.”
“How long?”
“Couple feet, maybe. We’ve got to make it as steady as we can.”
“But what if—”
“I don’t know,” Casie said, then inhaled carefully and lowered her voice. “Let’s just try it.”
Emily unrolled more tape as the newborn bumbled back to its feet. It shambled wildly along, legs going every direction before bumping into the nearest wall and falling onto its rump.
“Is he okay?” Emily’s voice was strained, but Casie kept her attention steady on the mare.
“Just make this needle secure, then grab the other IV bag from the tack room.”
Emily jerked a nod and hurried away. In a matter of seconds, she was yanking the tubing out of th
e old bag and jamming it into the new. Fluids flowed out in a steady stream.
But the mare remained as she was, glassy eyed, barely breathing. Behind her, the foal stumbled back onto his feet, took a tottering step forward, and shambled helplessly into another wall.
Freedom remained completely unaware.
“What now?” Sophie’s tone was small and broken.
“Try the vet again,” Casie said.
She dragged her phone back to her ear. They waited breathlessly as more fluids pumped into the mare’s system.
“Answering service,” a voice responded.
Sophie flashed a hopeful glance to Casie. “I need to speak to Dr. Sarah!”
“I’m sorry.” The voice on the other end of the line was cool and remote. “This is the answering service for Dakota Equine Veterinary Hospital. Dr. Sarah is not available at this time.”
“I need her to call me as soon as possible.”
“Can I get your name and pertinent information?”
“It’s life or death!”
“Please give me—”
But in that second the mare’s eyes blinked closed.
“No,” Casie breathed.
“Freedom!” Sophie rasped, and dropping her phone onto the straw, stroked the mare’s pretty face. “Don’t. Please. Not now. Listen. Things will get better. They will. Don’t give up.” The mare spasmed, head jerking. “Don’t—” she sobbed, but suddenly Emily lurched toward the foal. Squatting awkwardly beside him, she wrapped her arms around his barrel and dragged him toward his mother’s head.
“Emily …” Casie began, tears already blurring her vision. “I don’t think—”
“Just help me!” she rasped.
Dropping her hands from the mare, Casie jerked to her feet. The colt was slippery, ears drooping heavily, eyes half closed.
Emily relinquished the foal’s torso. They each grabbed a foreleg and dragged him forward.
“I’m sorry,” Casie said. “I’m so—”
“Farther,” Emily panted. “A little farther.”
They heaved the colt in front of the mare’s unseeing eyes. She remained exactly as she was, thin and broken, flat against the straw, life depleted.
“Wake up!” Emily ordered.
Nothing happened.
“Get up, mare!” Emily said and squatted beside her to slap her neck. The chestnut body remained entirely flaccid.
Emily swore between her teeth. Scooting over to the foal, she swiped her hands across his ribs before slathering the slime on the mare’s nose. “It’s your baby!” she snarled. “Don’t wimp out now. He needs you.”
The world was absolutely quiet, and into that silence, the colt nickered. The sound was as old as the earth, as sweet as life, filled with yearning, and hope, and despair.
And to that sound, Freedom opened her eyes. She blinked once and then her ears shot forward. She answered back. The sound was low and shaky, but in an instant she was scrambling awkwardly to her feet. Casie skittered out of the way, still holding the IV bag. Stumbling forward, Freedom reverently lowered her muzzle to her baby’s damp back.
It was a moment Casie would never forget, a space of time when all was well with the world, when things were as they should be. The mare, unsteady but determined. The foal, even more so, a beautiful dance as old as time as they found each other. There were tottering steps and soft nickers, wide limpid eyes filled with instant adoration and audacious hope.
Eventually, the pair was nestled together in the golden straw. Freedom’s muzzle was resting on her baby’s silky head. He was stretched out on his side, ribs rising and falling, long-lashed eyes closed to the world.
It was then that Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony began playing from the depths of the bedding. Freedom cocked her head in that direction but did little more as Sophie dug through the straw for her lost phone.
“Dr. Sarah?” she said, breathless.
“This is Dakota Equine’s answering service calling back.” The operator’s tone was more than a little snooty. “I’m afraid I need more information than ‘this is life or death.’ ”
“Just have her call me,” Sophie snapped. “Or there’ll be another life on the line.”
CHAPTER 23
“So she said, ‘Get your ass in gear, or it might just be your death.’ ” Emily stood narrow-eyed near the stove, spatula raised and pointed with deadly accuracy at the milk pitcher. Pancakes bubbled on the skillet behind her.
“I didn’t say that,” Sophie said and shifted her gaze to Ty. He felt its impact like an arrow to his soul. Her cheeks were pink, her lost girl eyes as bright as shooting stars. If she were any more awe-inspiring, the sight of her would tear his heart clean from his chest.
Emily scowled, canted her head for a moment, then turned to flip a pancake and consider the situation anew. “Maybe it was, ‘If she doesn’t call me back, you’ll wish you were dead.’ Or—” She paused again, one hip cocked, studying the ceiling as she reconsidered. “Maybe I should be an equine practitioner. I bet they make the big bucks.”
“You’re afraid of horses,” Colt said.
Emily sighed. “It’s a conundrum.”
Colt chuckled. He sat next to Sophie. The three of them were tucked close around the kitchen table. Casie was filling mugs with coffee. The dark aroma was strong enough to taste, whispering of comfort and peace and a world of emotions Ty couldn’t put a name to. The steam wafted lazily into the air, haloing their heads like morning mist. “Way to put the fear of God into someone who has her hands completely tied,” Colt said.
Sophie scowled a little as she took her first sip of coffee. “I thought Freedom was dying.”
“She was dying,” Casie said. “She’d given up. Checked out. Then Em dragged her baby up to her.” She shook her head, remembering, and the sight of the pride in her eyes caused goose bumps to pebble up on Ty’s arms. “It was as if an electric current went off. As if the scent of her newborn went straight to her heart.”
“It wasn’t because of me,” Emily said. “You’re the one who pumped two gallons of electrolytes into her.” She turned toward Colt, spatula still in hand. “You should have seen her, shouting orders like the sergeant general. ‘Get the IV, find me a vein, STAT!’ ”
“I didn’t say ‘stat,’ ” Casie said, tone embarrassed.
Ty watched her settle her hips against the counter and self-consciously sip her coffee just as Sophie tasted her own. Two women. They couldn’t be more different, and yet …
“Emily butchered the story completely,” Sophie said.
“Are they always that …” Linette paused in the doorway. “Spindly?” she asked and skimmed her gaze from one face to the next.
They all turned toward her, conversation interrupted.
“Foals,” their guest explained. “He’s so … knobby.”
“Spindly!” Emily sputtered the word as if she had birthed the colt herself. “Knobby? What are you talking about? He’s spectacular.” There was fire in her eye, a threat in her raised hand.
There was a moment of stunned silenced before anyone spoke.
“Let this be a lesson not to cast aspersions on Em’s baby,” Casie murmured against the lip of her coffee mug, but the words were easily heard. Colt chuckled and Emily finally grinned.
“And it might be wise to remember who does the cooking around here,” she added.
They did a little salute with their coffee mugs.
“She’s right, though,” Sophie said. “He’s a cutie. At least I think so. And he’s strong. He was up in …” She snapped her fingers. Her hair swung in rhythm to the motion. Her fingernails were perfectly clean. Ty didn’t understand how that could be. “Thirty seconds. And with the crap …” She paused, glanced at Casie, and adjusted her terminology. “Considering his mother’s deprivations, that’s amazing.”
“Yeah,” Emily said. “And he—”
“All right.” Linette laughed, holding up a hand as she slipped into an empty chair. “My apologies. I’ll
know better than to slander any of your equine friends in the future.” She glanced up. “So you think they’re doing well?”
Casie shrugged, looking worried. “Seem to be right now. The vet’s supposed to stop in as soon as she can to check on them.”
“How could anyone have treated that mare so heinously?” Linette asked.
“The guy’s psychotic,” Emily said and shivered a little as if disturbed by the thought of him.
They all turned toward her.
“So you’ve met him?” Linette asked.
Casie tensed. Sophie’s eyes went wide, but Emily just flipped a pancake and calmly corrected her mistake. “I don’t have to see psycho behavior to recognize its effects,” she said. “Maybe I should be a psychologist. Or a psychic. Or, hey, I could be a judge. They’re still looking for a replacement for that hang-’em-high gal who resigned recently.”
Linette took a sip of coffee, studying her before turning toward Casie.
“I saw you bought the mare a new halter and lead rope.”
“I did,” Sophie said. “I didn’t want her to have any memories of her old life.”
Linette nodded. “I think green’s her color. What did you do with the old ones?”
“The old halter?” Sophie scowled.
“Yes. I just …” The older woman shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “I’d kind of like a memento of the Lazy.”
“You want a ratty old halter?”
“It’s more the lead I’m interested in,” she said. “It was leather, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Sophie said. “I put it in the trash out back.”
“And you don’t mind if I take it?”
Sophie shook her head, looking bemused.
“Thanks,” Linette said, then smiled her thanks at Emily as the girl slid a trio of pancakes in front of her. “And can I hang around when the vet comes to check out the new arrival?”
“Of course,” Casie said. “You’ll be around the farm?”
“I have a riding lesson, of course,” Linette said. “We’re trying bareback today.”
“That’s—” Casie began, just about to take a sip, then, “What!” Her gaze snapped to Colt.
“Riding bareback,” Linette repeated, then widened her eyes as she chewed. “Em, what is in these pancakes?”
