Gage, Ronna - Three Hearts One Love (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Ronna Gage

  Dylan’s eyes sparkled with excitement and let up tension. “Would she have delivered without the repositioning?”

  “Yes, but it would have torn her vulva, and she would’ve needed medical care to sew the damage.”

  “Do you have sutures and needles in your bag?”

  Karma winked. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I am a registered DVM. I think I’ve got it covered.” She strutted up to him. “The only thing I need from you…are chains.”

  “Chains! You said…”

  “Hold on there, cowboy. This isn’t your first time at this either. You know this may go bad in a second. I like to be prepared to intervene in the delivery.”

  Dylan relaxed again. “Sorry, I’m just a little keyed up, that’s all.”

  “Can I help?”

  Dylan looked around. “Not yet, but there are the chains you asked for.” He pointed to the two sets on the wall. Karma followed his direction with her gaze. Satisfied, she nodded. “How much longer do you think?”

  “I feel if we don’t deliver her by nine o’clock, we may need to intervene at the clinic.”

  “Cesarean?” Dylan’s voice lowered, his eyes darted back and forth between her and Bertha.

  Karma loved how his voice altered in the grips of strong emotional bonds—passion, arousal, and like this moment, nervousness. She looked at Bertha. “Yes, but for now, our plan is to tug and pull. She’s too weak to push for too long on her own.” Karma reached out to cup Dylan’s face. He leaned into it. His hand covered hers.

  “I’m glad you’re here. I can use a professional, neutral person right now. God knows I’m not.”

  Karma’s heart swelled with love. “I’m not either. In fact, I’m scared shitless, but I’m in my comfort zone and will do what it takes to deliver this calf safely and quickly.” She reached up and gave him a soft kiss. He deepened the kiss.

  He stopped the kiss and stared into her eyes. “What do you have to be scared shitless for, Dr. Rodden?”

  She lowered her gaze to his heart, and then her eyes retreated to his, she glimpsed the pulse point of his throat. Strong beats tested the membranes of his neck. His eyes flickered with desired challenge. “Losing,” she whispered. The soft confession toiled through her heart and rested in her eyes, misting them and blurring her view of his handsome face. “It sucks to lose.”

  Dylan’s eyebrows crinkled. He nodded, but the weight of his stare conveyed his understanding. She turned to walk away. Her hands lingered on his waist, roamed over his stomach to his side until she stepped out of touch with his body. She walked to the gate to put away her stethoscope.

  “She’s down!” Dylan announced.

  Karma grabbed her bag and brought it closer to the patient. “Good girl.”

  Bertha lay in the straw, her respirations quick and deep, and then she grunted. The bag of water burst open.

  “It’s not long now, daddy!” Karma announced over Bertha’s belly. Her excitement bubbled inside.

  Dylan smiled, but the seriousness returned in his gaze. “Do you need the chains?”

  “Hold on. Let me have a look.” She grabbed another long glove from her bag and checked the heifer’s progress. “Looks good, but we may still need them.”

  After thirty minutes of grunting and pushing, Bertha grew tired.

  Karma checked the little one’s progress. The kicking hooves had no room to move. “Dylan.” She looked over at him. “Get the chains.”

  Without hesitating, debating, or rethinking the decision, Dylan trotted to the wall and grabbed a set. “What do I do?”

  “Give me an end of one of them.” Karma held out her hand, grabbed the end he gave her, reached into her bag, and grasped the tube of lube. She doused up Bertha’s uterus. “Hold this for just a bit. I am going to pull the leg out.” She reached inside, grabbed the first hoofed foot, and pulled it out.

  “Holy shit, this calf is huge!” Dylan said when he spotted the hoof.

  “I told you.” She wrapped the chain’s end around the hoof and secured it. “Hold this, Dylan,” she ordered, handing him the tensed chain. “Give it some tension as she pushes. For the love of God, don’t let that leg back inside.”

  “Got it!” Dylan maintained the tension on the chained leg.

  Karma eased the other leg out and chained it like the first. “Now, when she pushes, we pull. When she rests, we will keep the tension.”

  Dylan nodded. “Why?”

  “We don’t want the little one to slip back in, for one, and this steadies the pressure on the cervix and speeds dilation.”

  “Got it.”

  Bertha grunted, deep and low. “Okay, here we go. Pull! Steady, not hard. Easy!” Bertha’s respirations grew quick again. “And stop! Keep the tension.”

  “How do you know when to stop pulling?” he whispered.

  Leave it to Dylan to set a quiet atmosphere for the delivery. I swear he can read my mind. “When her breaths are quick like this, she’s no longer pushing. When you hear her grunt, she’s pushing,” Karma whispered back.

  Dylan shrugged his shoulders. “Easy.”

  Karma looked at him. “What are you, new?”

  “No, I’ve never had a difficult delivery before. I usually wake up and have a calf added to the herd.”

  “Oh, I see.” Karma monitored Bertha’s breathing, the calf’s feet, and the tensions on the chains.

  “Do we have to pull the calf completely out with these chains?”

  Karma shook her head. “No, once we pull the last rib out, it’s usually easy for the mother from that point on. He’s pretty much out of the birth canal.”

  “Why not pull more?”

  “The placenta needs to transfer blood to the calf before the umbilical cord ruptures.”

  “I see. And it allows fluid to drain from the little guy’s nose.”

  She gave him a wink. “Exactly. Now you’re getting it.”

  He looked back at Bertha. “I think we need to pull again.”

  The heifer’s breaths fell deep. A small grunt came from her diaphragm. “Yes, and pull hard this time. She’s growing tired.” They put the tension on the chains. “Pull! Easy…steady…keep it coming.” Bertha tried to stand. “No! dammit! I can’t have her getting up now.” Karma tossed Dylan the chain. She crawled to Bertha’s head. “We need another set of hands. She can’t get up.”

  “Can I help?”

  Karma looked up and gazed into Jaxon’s eyes. Her heart soared and then plummeted a split second later. “Wh…?”

  “Great, Jax, help me keep tension here!” Dylan ordered, lifting the chain Karma had let go of a second ago.

  What the hell is he doing here? How do he and Dylan know each other? She watched him jump the gate and take up the position she just vacated. Her mouth watered at the relaxed fit of his jeans, the tight fit of his T-shirt, the smell of his cologne.

  Focus!

  “What the hell do you think I am?” Jaxon asked, sitting next to him.

  “Right now you are a vet tech,” Dylan answered. “Listen to Karma’s instructions.”

  Jaxon looked at her. “Nice to see you again, Karma.”

  “Same here.” She shifted her attention back to the laboring cow. “Now, let’s focus on the job at hand.” Karma lay across Bertha’s neck. “Here we go. Pull! Remember, don’t pull after we get the last rib out.”

  “I see the last two ribs,” Dylan announced.

  Karma leaned over to investigate. She reached down with both hands and rotated the calf’s hips. “Rotating the hips helps position the calf to slide out. Hopefully one more push will do it.”

  Jaxon looked over at Karma and then at Dylan. “Who is going to wash my clothes?”

  Karma and Dylan looked at each other. In a time of crisis, it would be just like Jaxon to make a joke, even if it did come out in a selfish manner. “That’s what I love about you—your sense of humor,” Karma stated without thinking.

  Jaxon and Dylan looked at each other and smiled. “I’ll bet!�
� they agreed together.

  Bertha thrashed and grunted. “This is it now. Here we go.” Up on her back haunches, she grunted once more, and out came the little bull, along with the remnants of the water sac, the bloody placenta, and mucous, spilling out on the floor of the stall. Karma immediately went to the little calf. “His breathing sounds labored,” she informed her team—the two loves of her life, who now would lose their friendship because of her.

  “What do we do?” Jaxon asked, picking membranes and straw off his clothes. “Turn him upside down like a kitten?”

  “No!” Dylan and Karma almost yelled.

  “I saw you do it last week!” Jaxon reminded her.

  “I’ve seen her do it too, but kittens and calves are very different,” Dylan stated.

  Jaxon looked at his clothes and then at Dylan’s and Karma’s. “And less messy.”

  Karma lifted the calves back feet a little off the ground. Fluid oozed out from his nose and mouth. “That should do it.” She set the calf next to his mother. Bertha looked the newborn over. Satisfied he turned out okay, she licked his head, cleaning him of the birth debris. “Ah! I always love this part,” Karma sighed, clutching a hand over her heart. “Only a mother could be that gentle.”

  “Or a father,” Dylan stated behind her.

  Jaxon walked up to her. “Who’s going to clean up this mess?” he asked.

  She looked up at him dumbfounded by this whole series of events.

  “We thought you could handle that,” Dylan suggested with a teasing smile. “We did most of the work.”

  Jaxon chuckled. “I don’t think so.” He turned toward the gate. “I’m taking a shower.”

  Dylan looked at Karma. Her guilty conscience almost got the better of her. She froze in anticipation of an accusation. She had no excuse or logical explanation to give to either of them. Bracing for the first barrage of questions, she maintained her gaze on the cow and her calf.

  “We need to talk,” Jaxon said beside her.

  She nodded.

  “Let’s clean this up, bed her down, and then we can talk at the house,” Dylan suggested.

  Except for clinical questions and instructions, Karma, Jaxon, and Dylan worked in civil silence. In the vast guilt and dread of her heart, comfort didn’t exist. The atmosphere mounted with tension as each man glanced at her, making the barn almost unbearable.

  Chapter Seven

  Karma walked between Jaxon and Dylan, each one holding one of her hands in his. The short walk to the main house gave her enough time to feel the onslaught of emotions by their simple touch, which tantalized her body in a sweet assault of warmness that almost distracted her from the confrontation awaiting them.

  In the house, Jaxon let go of her hand and then sat down at the bar. Dylan stood on the other side leaving one stool open for her. Karma braced herself for the showdown. I will leave here with my head held high no matter the outcome. She didn’t know what to expect really. Regret, dread, love, and disappointment entwined in her heart and ran rampant like a virus into her soul, creating more tense ranges of nerves within her. She’d miss the days of lying with each of them, making love on rainy days, skinny-dipping in Dylan’s stock tank, cuddling on the couch with Jaxon during a movie. She turned away from their stares.

  Jaxon stood up from the stool, and then paced the floor in mild agitation.

  Karma held her breath. Here goes the first strike.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Dylan asked him.

  Jaxon stopped pacing, looked down at his shirt, and pulled it away from his skin. “I have cow blood and…stuff on me,” he pouted.

  Dylan held back the laugh Karma saw lingering under the surface. “First things first,” he stated calmly.

  Karma straightened at the second hint of the face-to-face meeting among the three of them.

  Jaxon rolled his eyes and stripped out of his shirt right in front of her and Dylan. “I’m going to borrow a T-shirt from you then,” he declared, stomping off to the master bedroom.

  Karma looked at Dylan. “How long have you two known each other?”

  Dylan tilted his head. “All our lives, I’d say. Our fathers are best friends. He and I grew up together, went to school together, dated girls on many double dates together. I’d say he’s like a brother to me.”

  Great! Just when I didn’t think I could feel any worse. The brief history of Dylan and Jaxon’s connections added to her regret. Nausea rumbled through her stomach. She watched Dylan walk to the refrigerator seemingly uncaring of how she and Jaxon knew each other.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  Flabbergasted by his hospitality, she hesitated before answering. “Sure. I’ll have a glass of tea.”

  “Jax! Do you want a glass of tea?” he hollered toward the bedroom.

  “Yeah! Where the hell are the T-shirts I usually borrow?”

  Dylan rolled his eyes and then looked at Karma. “He’s here every other day and still can’t remember where I told him I keep them.” He leaned toward the bedroom. “In the guest room!”

  “Oh yeah! I forgot.”

  Dylan raised his hands in exaggerated mocked surprise. He looked at Karma. “He’ll forget next week.”

  Karma chuckled. She didn’t bother to hold it back. “You sound like a woman complaining about her husband, and he, well, has an uncanny ability to take things lightly. Amazing,” she said in reflex to the antics. Her mind crept onto another ulterior motive to his lightness. He didn’t really love me like he said after all.

  Jaxon walked back into the room, sat down at the end of the bar with Karma and Dylan on either side, and looked from one to the other. “What did I miss?”

  The other two looked at him and laughed. “Nothing,” each one said.

  Once the laughter died down, they each looked at one another. More silence hung between them.

  Karma took in a tattered breath. “Guys, I don’t know what to say. I have no excuse for the things I’ve done…” she said in some attempt to ease over the difficulty about to break between them.

  Dylan looked at Jaxon, who in turn cleared his throat. “Karma, first off, we aren’t mad at you for dating the two of us at the same time,” Jaxon assured her.

  Karma held up her hand. “How long have you two known about each other?”

  “From about the beginning. The first date you and I had together for sure,” Dylan answered.

  “I don’t understand. You were using me?” Her anger got to her, but then she realized she wasn’t innocent in this triangle. “And I used you,” she admitted softly.

  “We don’t see it as using each other,” Jaxon said. She looked up into his eyes and saw longing for her. His voice softened. “We see it as building a relationship.”

  “A relationship?” Karma hesitated to show any emotion: confusion, surprise, or otherwise. Did I step off into an alternate universe? “I don’t understand.”

  “Yes, one that is completely unorthodox—” Dylan added.

  “Not really!” Jaxon interrupted. “It’s going on all the time.”

  Dylan raised a single finger to pause Jaxon’s next comment. “I know, you’ve told me all about it.”

  “About what?” Karma asked, breaking up the debate between the two of them.

  “We.” Each man took her hand. “Karma,” Dylan said her name, and she felt the new flutters of desire. “Jaxon and I don’t doubt the way we feel about you. In fact, for the last four months, we both agree we’ve never been happier, for ourselves, or for each other.”

  “I love you, Karma,” Jaxon confessed. “And Dylan does, too.” He turned to Dylan, who nodded. “We don’t want to lose you.”

  Dylan looked at her. “Earlier, you said you hated to lose. Well, so do the two of us.”

  Karma sat on her stool looking from one man to the other. The reached out to hold her hands. The heat of their hands warmed her body to intimate levels of security. Hope almost blossomed, but what if she’d interpreted what they said incorrectl
y? “I’m hearing that you two want to continue a relationship with me, but at the same time.” Both men nodded. “How?” Shaking with anticipation, she looked from one and then the other. “Can this really be done? Do we flaunt it for the world to see? Do we keep it in private? Have you two dated women together before?”

  Dylan squeezed her hand and then kissed it. “Well, that’s where we have to decide something.”

  Oh boy, the impending but. Her heart beat in rapid succession of what was to come. “Decide what?”

  Jaxon looked down at her. Love reflected in his eyes. “How far you trust either of us,” he answered in a warm whisper. Karma narrowed her eyes. “You see.” He smoothed his fingers through her bangs, setting it off her forehead. “Dylan and I know we aren’t going to give you up.”

  “Won’t!” Dylan stressed.

  Karma’s heart swelled. “I don’t want to lose either of you.” She looked at Dylan. “I love you, Dylan, for your hard working, nurturing soul. I find myself coming to you when I have those really hard days where I’ve lost a patient or put one down because of neglect.” She looked at Jaxon. “I love you, Jaxon, because you make me laugh, you fill me with joy when I’m with you, and you lift my spirits when my day is too stressful.”

  Jaxon continued. “We’re willing to share, but if you’d rather see us strictly one on one, then so be it. We will live with that, but if we can have little get-togethers like this”—he paused—“all the better.”

  “Are you willing to carry our relationships to the next level, being a threesome?” Dylan asked. “Or are you only allowing a one-on-one type of thing?”

  Her palm caressed both of their cheeks. Her thumb grazed their lips. “If it gets to the point that we, as a threesome, are selfish and uncaring for the other two, this will stop. But for now, I’m willing to try.”

  The two men grinned.

  Dylan looked at her. “I love you.” He pulled her close. “I have from the moment I saw you. I know this seems strange to you, but I promise this is what Jaxon and I both want.”