by Nancy M Bell
“Great idea, George, breed the damn mare, head back to the rigs, and leave it to me to worry about foaling her out.” Michelle cursed her absent brother for the millionth time.
She turned her attention back to the monitor in time to see the mare lower herself heavily to the bed of straw. Even on the grainy monitor, dark patches of sweat were apparent on the mare’s neck. She set the monitor back on the table and checked on the black dog by the door one more time before she pulled on her still damp coat and crammed one of George’s thick toques on her head.
The force of the wind stole her breath when she stepped out of the lee of the house. The snow was over her knees and some quickly found its way into her boots. Doggedly, Michelle plowed through the snow toward the barn. She was relieved when her hand found the rough wood of the corral fence, and she followed it to the barn. She flicked on the lights as she stepped inside. It seemed quiet after the raging wind outside, even though the old building creaked and groaned as the force of the wind hit it.
Michelle made her way quietly to where she could see into the buckskin mare’s stall. The horse was down in the straw and stretched out flat on her side. Her tawny coat was dark with sweat, and her sides heaved with the strength of the contractions. Michelle stayed quiet, not wanting to disturb the mare, just be there in case she got into trouble. The woman settled herself on a bale of straw and pulled her jacket more firmly around her. Still cold, she snagged a wool cooler hanging nearby and wrapped it around herself as well.
It took the mare another thirty minutes of labour until her water broke with a gush. Michelle sat up straighter and waited. The sac and the foal should make an appearance within twenty minutes, or Michelle would have to call Mary back and see if Doc could make it out. She pushed the thought of the new vet to the back of her mind. Within ten minutes, the shiny membrane of the sac protruded from the mare, and a tiny hoof pushed against the opaque surface. The mare heaved again, and more of the foal slid into view. The tiny hoof inside the sac showed its soft rubbery bottom, complete with tiny frog as it pushed through the membrane.
“God damn it,” Michelle swore as she got to her feet and unlatched the stall door. The foal was coming backward, a breech birth. “Just freaking marvellous,” she muttered.
She laid her hand on the mare’s haunch and moved her tail aside to check if both feet were showing. She let her breath out through her teeth at the sight of two little hind feet and two hocks laying side by side. So far so good.
“C’mon, little horse, one more push, and we should have it,” Michelle encouraged the mare. “We need to get your baby out, so he can breathe.”
Michelle threw her gloves into the straw and grasped the slimy hind legs of the foal and waited. When the mare convulsed with the next contraction, Michelle pulled with her, and the foal slid wetly out into the straw. Michelle tore the tough skin of the caul away from the foal’s nose and face. Then she got to her feet and stepped out of the stall. The buckskin mare raised herself up off her side and peered back at the foal lying steaming on the straw behind her. Michelle held her breath, waiting for the mare to realize the foal belonged to her. A throaty nicker came from the mare’s throat, and the foal struggled and kicked his way free of the caul. The buckskin heaved herself to her feet and moved to nose the small body in the bedding, soon her tongue was licking him clean and dry. Michelle allowed herself a small sigh of relief. She slid back into the stall with a length of binder twine in her hands and spoke softly to the mare. The horse paid her no mind, and Michelle trailed her hand from the mare’s shoulder to her hindquarters and lifted the heavy afterbirth which was still attached and hanging out onto the floor. She caught the heavy caul and tied it up to the mare’s tail, so it wouldn’t get stepped on and pull away from the mare, leaving a piece of it still attached inside. Once the afterbirth was up out of the way, Michelle left the stall again and leaned on the door to watch the momma and baby get to know each other. The buckskin pushed the foal with her nose, and the foal attempted to get his legs underneath him and stand. On his third try, he managed to scramble up on his stilt-like legs, only to fall in a heap. The next time, he had better luck, and the mare pushed him with her nose toward her flanks. The baby stuck his nose under her flank and found the udder. Michelle held her breath. This was the moment when some first time mothers objected strongly to the foal groping around her swollen and tender udder. The sound of slurping and the mare’s tongue licking the foal’s butt was music to her ears. His little tail twitched as he ate his first meal. Right now, she needed a hot drink, even though she’d have to come out later and make sure the baby had his first poop and passed the meconium out of his system. The first bowel movement was sticky, thick and dark. If he didn’t pass it, the colt would need an enema.
Michelle left the pair to settle and flicked the lights off as she left. She pulled her toque down further over her ears and squinted through the heavy curtain of snow, trying to see the glow of the porch light. The veils of wind-whipped snow obscured any chance of her actually seeing the light, so Michelle put her hand on the corral fence, and using it as a guide, headed in the direction she knew the house was. She came to the end of the corral and could make out the bulk of the garage just ahead of her. Stepping into the lee of the building she paused to catch her breath and wipe the snow from her face.
“Almost there,” she muttered through cold lips. “Stupid snow storms,” she added as an afterthought.
Michelle struck out from the shelter of the garage with her chin tucked down on her chest. The corner of the house should be right in front of her. The wind howled fiercely, and snow devils whirled everywhere, throwing biting bits of ice into her face. Her feet found the steps of the back porch first, and Michelle thankfully grabbed the snowy railing with her right hand. The drifts were thick on the broad steps and made it hard to get footing. Michelle fought her way up the stairs and missed the top step. She pitched head first into the big drift on the porch between the steps and the door. Michelle floundered in the snow as she tried to find some purchase for her feet in the sifted snow. Her breath stuck in her throat as her flailing hand was caught in the grasp of a strong gloved hand.
“George, is that you? What are you doing home? Is the rig shut down?” Michelle gasped as she used the extended hand as an anchor and emerged from the snow.
She got to her feet and pushed the snow laden toque back from her eyes and swiped her wet hair out of her face. Her eyes widened in surprise as she looked up at the tall figure of a man who was definitely not George. The porch light behind the stranger made it hard to see his features, that and the fact he had a hat pulled low over his face and a scarf wound around his neck and lower face. Who the hell is he? A small jolt of fear seared through her. This was definitely not someone she knew. Maybe somebody stranded by the blizzard?
“Michelle?” The man’s voice was barely audible over the wind. “Is this the Wilson place?”
“Do I know you?” Michelle peered up at him through her snow crusted lashes. He knew her name and whose ranch it was, so there was no sense standing out in the storm. “C’mon into the house. I need to get out of this wind.”
Michelle opened the back door and shook the worst of the snow off before stepping into the blessed warmth of the mud room. The tall stranger followed her in. He slapped his Stetson on his thigh to knock off the crusted ice and snow and unwound the long scarf from his neck. Michelle turned from hanging up her wet jacket and took in the man’s seal black hair and startling blue eyes. I would definitely remember if I knew this guy. Michelle licked her lower lip and ran her hand through her wet, tangled hair.
“Are you lost, or do you live around here?” Michelle queried him. I wish! She added silently.
“I just bought the Chetwynd place, over the coulee,” he said, a smile warming his face.
“The Chetwynd place.” Michelle paused, as the pieces fell into place. “You’re the new vet?”
“Cale Benjamin.” He stuck out his hand.
Michelle automatically shook the proffered hand. Her brain was in overdrive. Damn Mary, she could have warned me he was gorgeous.
“You’re the fancy horse vet from up Calgary way.” Michelle’s voice sounded stern and disapproving even to her ears.
Cale’s smile faltered a little, and a small frown creased his forehead. “I do some equine work up that way, yeah.”
“I thought a guy like you would be living in the big city, not out here on the bald assed prairie. Not a lot of opportunity to make big bucks on ranch horses and cattle.” Michelle couldn’t seem to stop herself from being rude.
“I’m not a city guy.” Cale grinned. “My parents ranch down near Nanton, so I’m used to the bald assed prairie.”
“Huh.” Michelle turned to the stove and set the kettle on the burner. “Want some tea or coffee? You must be cold.” She remembered her manners at last, and her grandmother’s voice sounded in her inner ear. Any folks is always welcome at this table, especially in a storm.
“What about that dog you called Doc about. Where is she?” Cale hung his polar fleece under jacket on the back of a kitchen chair.
Michelle swung around from the stove, and her gaze immediately caught on Cale’s hips, which filled out his jeans just the way they should. She swallowed hard and dragged her gaze back to his face. Cale’s gaze burned into her, and Michelle lost any thought in her head except that she really wanted to feel his lean muscular body against her and to run her tongue over his sensuous lower lip. A deep smile creased Cale’s face, and he cleared his throat, breaking the spell hanging in the air between them. Michelle shook her head and turned back to the stove, embarrassment heating her cheeks.
“She’s in the front hall, by the door.” Michelle indicated the door to the hall with her hand and lifted the whistling kettle off the burner.
She poured water into the teapot and covered it with a knitted cosy before following Cale into the darkened hall. She found him on his knees beside the dog. The pitiful thing was now mostly thawed out and emitting a decidedly toxic odour.
“Oh, my word, something must be rotting off for her to smell like that.” Michelle knelt beside Cale and tried hard not to breathe in the sickly sweet stench.
The dog thumped its tail on the mat and licked Cale’s hand as he slid his fingers under her chin to examine her head. His expert hands moved over the dog’s body, all the while he talked soft nonsense to the dog. With a final pat on the animal’s head, Cale sat back on his heels and looked at Michelle. An odd expression crossed his face before he looked away. Cale got to his feet and offered her a hand. Michelle ignored his outstretched hand and stood up quickly before taking a step back.
What is wrong with me, for heaven’s sake? He’s no different than any other man around here. I want to touch him so badly, but I can’t deal with the way he makes me feel. Damn Mary and her matchmaking, damn her all to hell!
“Well, Mr. Hot Shot Vet, what’s the verdict? Will she live?” She cringed inwardly at how harsh and rude she sounded.
“The paw on the injured leg is black and necrotic and will have to come off, the leg is smashed and dislocated, and in light of the damaged paw, I would say the whole limb should be amputated. The rest is cuts and bruises and starvation. The puppies are another matter altogether.” Cale took a step back from Michelle, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead.
“I’ll call Doc in the morning and arrange to take her into the clinic.” Michelle flicked on the overhead light in the hall as she spoke.
More light, that’s what I need. It won’t be so intimate with the lights on, Michelle thought desperately.
Cale bent and scooped the dog up in his arms. He smiled at Michelle’s startled face, turned, and marched down the hall to the kitchen. He gently set the dog in Rex’s bed that was still by the woodstove and covered her with an old blanket from the pile on the spare chair.
“She needs a warm bath and something for the pain, before anything else.” Cale rose and shrugged back into his coat. “I’ll just step out to the truck and get what I need.”
Michelle stared at the back of his broad shoulders as he walked into the mud room, she sat down abruptly onto a kitchen chair and let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“What is wrong with me?” she muttered. “What is it about this guy that has me tied up in knots?”
She was still sitting at the table with her chin propped on her hand when Cale returned with his medical bag. Snow clung to his black wavy hair and sparkled on his thick lashes. Michelle tore her gaze away from his face and pushed away from the table.
“What do you need?” she asked, glad to have something to keep her hands busy.
“Is there a place we can bath her down here, or is the bathroom upstairs?” Cale set the medical bag on a chair and shed his coat.
“There’s a shower down here.” Michelle opened a door off the kitchen and turned on the light.
Cale gathered the dog in his arms and shouldered his way past Michelle as she held the door open for him. He set the dog down on the floor of the shower stall and took the hand held shower head Michelle reached down for him. She adjusted the water temperature to lukewarm and then knelt beside Cale to hold the dog while he applied the stream of water.
The shower room was small and only meant for one person. Michelle’s hip was pressed firmly against Cale, and he had to reach across her to clean the dog’s face. Michelle rested her chin on his shoulder because there was no room to do anything else. Her heart kicked into double time, and she hoped fervently Cale couldn’t hear it. The dog sat quietly on her haunches while the vet shampooed her belly, careful of her swollen teats. With her long coat slicked back by the water and the mud taken out of it, the swollen bulge of the dog’s pregnancy was strangely at odds with the rest of her. The dog turned her head and rested her chin on Michelle’s wrist. As if she was too tired to hold her own head up anymore.
Cale washed the last of the frozen mud and ice from the dog and applied shampoo again. The dog slid down onto the floor of the shower, her injured leg thrust out to the side awkwardly. Michelle held her head up with one hand and gently helped Cale clean the injured leg with her other. Twice his fingers brushed hers, and it was all Michelle could do not to snatch her hand away. She gritted her teeth and mentally chastised herself. Stop it for God’s sake! He’s a vet, and you hardly know him. Stop it!
The memories flooded back, unbidden and unwelcome. The smell of shampoo and the warm hiss of the water confined in the little shower stall took her back to a place in her mind she avoided like the plague. Memories of Rob’s hands on her body, slippery with soap, his fingers in her hair; his lips everywhere. Both of them tired from long days in the saddle, sometimes full of weary exhilaration if it was a winning day at the rodeo, and Rob had day money in his pocket. Michelle dragged her thoughts away from dangerous territory and tried to focus on the dog under her hands. And look how that turned out, you idiot. He took off for the big city at the first chance he got.
“I think that’s as good as she gets.” Cale’s voice rumbled in her ear and broke the stream of memories.
Startled, Michelle jumped and tipped over against him. Her head came up quickly, and she was caught in the snare of his electric blue eyes. She watched, mesmerized as a small frown creased his face, and then he lowered his lips to hers, stealing the breath from her. Cale’s lips were warm and sensuous, thrusting Rob’s memory out of her mind. Electricity shot through her body as he explored her mouth. His tongue licked her lower lip before he caught it gently in his teeth. Sensation flooded her, and lights burst behind her closed eyelids. Cale buried a hand in her silky hair, trailed kisses down her jaw and breathed against her ear before delicately running his tongue along her earlobe. Michelle pressed against him, overcome with the need to be closer still. There were no coherent thoughts in her head, only sensation and the knowledge she wanted to be close to this man forever.
A flurry of water splattered Michelle’s face. She pulled back fr
om Cale’s embrace and scrambled to her feet. Cale remained on his knees by the dog, now upright and preparing to shake the water out of her wet coat a second time. A fire burned in his blue eyes, and a smile crossed his damnably kissable lips.
“I think she wants a towel.” Suppressed laughter made Cale’s voice throaty and sent shivers of desire up Michelle’s spine.
“I’ll get some,” Michelle managed to croak as she fled into the kitchen.
She grabbed four thick towels out of the laundry room and halted in the middle of the kitchen with the towels pressed to her chest. Her heart beat at triple time, and she felt light headed. Okay, so he’s gorgeous, and he can kiss like nobody’s business. That’s all it is, simple lust, nothing else. What in God’s name was I thinking? Michelle took a shaky breath and crossed the floor to the shower room door. She thrust the towels through the opening, being careful to not let her fingers touch Cale’s as he took them from her.
“I’ll fix a bed up for her,” Michelle turned back to the relative safety of the kitchen and fussed with Rex’s bed.
Cale carried the damp dog to the bed and laid her down. Michelle placed water and some soft food nearby. The dog took a token lap of the water and then drifted off to sleep in exhaustion. Her injured leg looked worse now it was clean, and the damage was easier to see. The frost bitten paw was already starting to slough flesh. Cale put a loose dressing on it and administered another dose of pain meds.
He stood and grinned at Michelle, who refused to meet his gaze. His shirt clung to his body, wet from the shower the dog had given them both. Michelle realized in the same moment her own shirt was soaked as well, and the top button had somehow pulled free of the flannel and was gaping open. Heat rose up her neck as she realized what Cale was grinning at, and she re-buttoned the shirt with clumsy fingers.