Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Grayson
A watched horse seldom cooperated, yet as evening turned into night, I remained near Fern’s stall, eyes unable to look away even as my brain kept returning to the earlier meeting with Adler. I’d been strangely proud of Adler’s managing of the tiny house folks, the confidence with which he’d spoken and the organization of his plans. My pride was at odds with my doubts over his ability to stay. He unquestionably had the talent to see the project through, but my wary heart refused to believe he was cut out for long-term ranch life.
“I brought you some food.” Unsurprisingly, the object of my ruminating showed up slightly past the usual dinner hour with an insulated bag full of plastic containers and a thermos of coffee.
“You didn’t have to do that.” My stomach proved me a liar as it let out a loud rumble at the scent of Casey’s cooking.
“I know.” Adler’s usual cheery grin didn’t reach his concerned eyes. He used a nearby ledge to dish up a generous helping of casserole. “Where’s Kat? I brought enough food for her as well.”
“Getting Jude. We called for him a while ago, but his truck wouldn’t start.” Not entirely unexpected, given the plummeting temperatures and the age of Jude’s well-loved work truck, but a hiccup nonetheless. Frustration edged my voice. “Kat volunteered to go fetch him while I watch Mama Fern here.”
“Winter seems like the worst time for foaling.” Adler watched Fern paw at the straw in her stall. The horse was in obvious discomfort, with a sweaty coat despite the cool air in the horse barn.
“It’s not ideal. We often aim for March to June, but this maiden went into season ahead of schedule.” At five, Fern was right at the age where we typically bred first-time mares, and despite careful management of all the horses’ fertility, sometimes surprises showed up. “She’s got impeccable bloodlines and eager buyers for any foals, so the decision was made to go ahead with the breeding. Pregnancy has been pretty textbook for a first-time mama, but we were all figuring she had another couple of weeks.”
“Oh no. Is it too early for the foal?” Adler made a distressed noise that made me put down my fork. “There’s no NICU for horse preemies.”
“Predicting gestation is never exact.” I gave Adler a fast pat on the shoulder, giving myself the temporary boost from the contact. Only us here, and it had been a long day in a long week. Like Adler had insinuated earlier, perhaps we were due some play. Continuing to fool around with so much unsaid between us was foolhardy, but Adler continued to steal all my common sense. “Fern will likely be okay, but that’s part of why I want Jude here, in case the mama or baby needs extra attention.”
“Her restlessness means she’s in labor?” Adler watched the horse as I finished my supper. Fern paced in a tight circle, at times looking like she might be considering lying down, while in other moments, looking almost colicky with wide eyes and flared nostrils.
“That and other signs of contractions.” Kat had noticed Fern’s broodish ways a few days ago, but we’d both hoped she’d hold off until the other side of this weather. “Fern has been working at this for most of the day. Always worrisome when labor goes long.”
“You’re worried about a breech?” Adler asked, clearly remembering some of the stories I’d shared as cautionary tales of ranch life.
“A malposition of some kind or another complication, yeah.” My intuition was seldom wrong, and my neck had prickled as soon as Kat said Fern seemed to be in labor. I’d held off on summoning Jude, but my feeling of unease had only grown over the course of the day.
“I hope she does okay.” Adler gave the horse and me sympathetic looks. No surprise that the softest heart I knew was moved by Fern’s predicament. “I also stopped by and saw to the dogs before bringing you the food.”
“Thanks. Gonna be a long night.” I exhaled hard before gesturing toward the barn doors. No sense in Adler being exhausted as well. “You don’t need to stick around if you’re bored. Likely a lot more waiting before anything happens.”
“I don’t mind keeping you company.” Adler leaned against the stall door, shoulders brushing mine. “And I’ve never seen anything born. My younger siblings were all delivered at the hospital and presented to us a few days later, red-faced little bundles of trouble.”
I chuckled at his description. “I was ten or eleven for the first horse I saw foal. My dad woke me up to come see because I’d been asking after this one horse, Molly. Pretty paint mare. Mom bundled me up, pajamas and all, with a thermos of hot chocolate.” My voice turned thick, and I had to swallow hard. “Good memory.”