Not that Cassie would ever touch him that way. More likely he’d receive a kick in the butt to send him on his way down the mountain. She’d been sleeping in the studio the last few days. When she’d come running to tell him about Gracie’s labor, he’d been thrilled to be able to do something for her.
Now he wished she’d ask him to help her with something he could actually do well. If he screwed this up, she’d never forgive him.
“Anything I should be doing on this end, darlin’?”
Cassie’s hand stilled, and he realized she still hadn’t warmed up to his use of one of his favorite endearments. She met his gaze, the wariness blatant in her expression. “They are not like horses or cows.” Damn—she’d gone on the defensive again. “Alpacas need very little assistance when birthing their babies. Most owners just sit back and watch.”
That sounded good to him, especially because he found himself positioned closer to the business end of things than he liked. So why had she come running to him in a panic? Who was she trying to convince this would be a breeze—him or her? Luckily, the mother-to-be seemed calmer than either Luke or Cassie, merely standing and waiting, with an occasional glance behind her when she had a contraction.
Luke wished he had his camera to record the first photos of the baby. The lighting in here would have made for some beautiful shots. Okay, maybe the thought of making some kind of lasting and positive impression on Cassie was part of it, too.
But he hadn’t planned on being stranded up here in an avalanche, so he hadn’t packed anything when he went to Aspen Corners to hang out with friends over a week ago. While he’d finally located his phone in the crashed truck, the charger was stuck in the mangled dash. At least he’d been able to use Cassie’s phone to call his momma, check on his horses again with Matt, and try and figure out what the hell was going on with Marc. The man hadn’t answered his phone for days. Rafe and Matt said Angel told them Marc was doing some deep soul searching. Luke hoped to hell the man found the answers he needed to turn his life around before he lost Angel for good.
But right now, Luke had his own worries.
The small shed was warm and cozy, even though the early May winds continued to howl outside. Luke moved to the spot behind Graciela and saw the bulging sac beginning to emerge. Shouldn’t be long now—at least he hoped not. His gaze wandered to Cassie’s face as she focused on her beloved alpaca. The girl had a sweet spot for Gracie. Didn’t she say this one had been sent to heal her?
Jeezus, don’t let me screw this up.
The soon-to-be momma gave a moan. “Shhh. You are doing fine, Graciela. I will not leave you alone.” The alpaca calmed under Cassie’s gentle touch. The two had some kind of silent connection. When she was near this one, a sense of peace seemed to come over Cassie more so than with the other three. He wished he could have put that expression on her face, but for some reason, he only put this lady on edge.
Another attempt to push left Graciela pacing in the stall. What he thought might be a snout stuck out a tiny hole in the sac, but she had a long way to go before the cria would be on the ground. He walked closer to Cassie, hating it when her hand clenched into a fist. What the hell did she expect him to do to her?
“Any idea how this works?” He left off any endearment, not wanting to push his luck.
“The feet should come out first then the baby’s head. Sometimes the head is first, but that can make for a more difficult birth. Once the head comes out, Graciela will walk around while any amniotic fluids drain from the cria’s mouth.”
Sounded simple enough—a damned sight easier than horses. They moved behind the animal again and watched as the cria’s head crowned.
“Oh, no.”
Luke cast a glance at Cassie, who had a death grip on the towel she’d used to wipe the sweat off Gracie’s neck and belly. He returned his gaze to the alpaca. Where the hell were the cria’s legs. He wished he knew more about what to do. He wondered if the anatomy was all that different from a horse’s. He’d helped deliver a horse once while in 4-H?
Luke stepped closer to the animal and stroked her side, feeling another contraction hit her as she pushed once more, moaning when her effort didn’t seem to progress the birth any. Luke took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves.
“What are you going to do?” Cassie came toward him as if to keep him away from Gracie until she knew of his intentions.
“I’m thinking she might need a little help, this being Gracie’s first baby and all. I’m going to see if I can find the cria’s legs and help this delivery along a bit.”
Cassie remained silent a moment and then nodded. “Do not hurt her.”
“You know I won’t, darl…”
Quit while you’re behind, Denton.
One thing he’d learned from his SAR work—and even his Dominant training with Adam—was to do no harm, so Luke waited for Gracie to work through one more contraction before intervening. No progress. Clearly, she wasn’t going to deliver this cria until the baby was in the right position. Not sure if an alpaca momma’s contraction could crush bones the way a horse’s could, he decided it was now or never and reached into the opening of the birth canal, feeling around until he found what felt like two skinny sticks. He sure hoped he was doing the right thing as he pulled the legs forward until they popped outside the sac. They dangled there a moment before another contraction came, and the baby’s head pushed the rest of the way out.
“Thank you, Goddess. It worked!”
Luke opened the cria’s mouth and let its head hang as fluid seeped from its small mouth. Gracie took to pacing again, and after several more contractions, the cria’s legs were practically touching the ground. He’d never watched an animal give birth standing up before. Horses and alpacas were very different creatures.
“The baby is not moving.”
Luke’s gaze returned to the cria. Shouldn’t it show some effort to be born? He wondered if there might be a problem. Should he help pull the baby out or let nature take its course? He pressed his fingers against the neck, trying to find a pulse. Where the hell were a cria’s pulse points, anyway?
Luke positioned himself at Gracie’s hind legs and watched the miracle of birth unfold before him. True to Cassie’s prediction, Gracie needed no help in doing what came naturally to her.
When the cria slid gently onto the shed’s floor, Luke pulled away the remnants of the sac and glanced up at Cassie feeling like a proud new daddy. Her gaze never left the baby, though. When Cassie’s expression of wonder became one of horror, she turned to Luke, her dark-chocolate eyes pleading as if waiting for him to do something.
His attention returned to the cria. Motionless. Not breathing. Foals usually struggled to their feet within minutes. Was it normal for a baby alpaca to just lie there?
He felt clueless—and helpless.
Cassie handed him a soft cloth and hunkered down beside him, her body warm and trembling.
He took the cloth, opened the cria’s mouth, and cleaned out any fluid, hoping to help it breathe on its own, but still saw no sign of life.
“Por favor, Lucas.”
Dear God, don’t let me fail this girl.
Hearing the desperation in Cassie’s voice—begging for the first thing she’d ever asked of him—he couldn’t let her down if he could help it. But why did she have to ask for the near impossible? Still, his training kicked in. He opened the baby’s mouth and stuck his finger in to check for any remaining mucous. Clear.
“Bring me that flashlight.”
Cassie brought it over and cast its beam down the cria’s gullet. He didn’t see any other obstruction. “Thanks.” Lowering the head to the ground, lining up the spine with the back, he cupped his hands over the cria’s snout and blew as hard as he could. The small chest expanded. He repeated with three more breaths.
He waited for some response. Nothing. “Cassie, compress the cria’s abdomen, alternating with when I breathe. I’ll be doing two breaths then ten compressions. You compress h
er every time I breathe into her mouth.”
“Okay.” She moved beside him and placed her hands on the baby’s belly, interlocking her hands. Apparently, she had learned CPR.
Good girl.
They worked together until the cria’s front leg kicked. “Did you see that?”
“Yes!”
He hoped it wasn’t some kind of involuntary response. This baby had to live. Cassie would be devastated if they lost her.
They repeated another round. Another kick—definitely a kick this time—and soon all four legs were in motion. Luke let out a whoop and reached out to hug Cassie, who hugged him back. At first, anyway, before she grew stiff. Knowing to let go, he stood, walked around the cria, and helped the little thing to its feet. Luke glanced over the wobbly critter’s back to see tears streaming down Cassie’s face. Her lips trembled with emotion. He wanted to reach out and wrap his arms around her again, to offer her some comfort and support, but didn’t want to push his luck.
“Muchas gracias, Lucas.”
Their gazes met, and she smiled. His name never sounded so good as when he heard it from her lips.
“I think we had some divine intervention.”
“Grace.”
“You got that right.” She’d sure given the momma alpaca the right name.
They both stood staring at the baby for a few minutes. “Have you picked out a name yet?”
Cassie started toward him, but she knelt beside the baby cria, which was now curled in the straw near its momma, and stroked its back. Tears continued to stream unheeded down her cheeks.
Such a gentle soul. Anyone who loved animals as much as she did couldn’t hide behind her gruff façade forever. One of these days, he hoped to see her show that kind of affection toward him. Even though he knew next to nothing about her, he felt a connection with her he hadn’t felt since…well, not in a long time.
“Her name will be Milagrosa.”
“What does it mean?”
Cassie’s gaze returned to Luke’s. “Miracle.”
“Fitting. Perfect.”
Out of the blue, he realized today was the anniversary of Maggie’s death. Sorry, Maggie. He used to mourn for days before and after this anniversary, but with all that had been going on up here, he’d forgotten.
Somehow, though, he looked on this as progress. He didn’t feel as depressed as he had last year at this time. That sketch Cassie had done had allowed him to move on.
Luke hoped God would pull off another miracle and help Cassie to open up to him one of these days. Something told him the two of them would be good together, helping each other heal.
* * *
Cassie stroked Graciela’s neck, hoping to still the shaking inside her stomach that threatened to overwhelm her while Milagrosa nursed on the rich colostrum that would help her fend off disease and grow strong in her first months of life.
When Lucas had wrapped his arms around her, she had been so lost in her exhilaration she hugged him back before coming to her senses. The man brought her cria back to life. Her emotions were jumbled, stretched so thin she had to blink away the tears.
Movement out of the corner of her eye shifted her focus to the man in question, and she watched him stretch out on the straw and place his hand protectively on top of Milagrosa’s belly.
Cassie gave him a sidelong glance, the urge to reach out to him even stronger.
No, Cassie. You’ve trusted the wrong men before.
Pedro had fooled her. He had always being solicitous, especially around her parents, and seemed to care about her, as well. Lucas might be gentle, kind, and almost like another brother, but he was not her brother. She needed to guard herself against becoming too comfortable around him.
Still, he had saved Milagrosa’s life.
“How did you know what to do?”
He glanced at her. “About what?” He didn’t seem to be on the same wavelength as she. What had he been thinking about?
“How to breathe life back into Milagrosa.”
He grinned. “I figured the basic principles of CPR were the same for alpacas as for humans.”
“I would not have been able to think clearly enough to know what to do in that situation. I panicked, but you stayed so calm.”
“Only on the outside, darlin’. I didn’t want you to lose your first cria.” He turned his gaze to the still-nursing baby. “But my SAR training does help me to keep my cool, I guess.”
“I cannot thank you enough.”
He smiled at her. “You already have.”
Cassie didn’t know what he meant, but thought he referred to something more than her words of gratitude.
Hungry herself, Graciela moved to her feed bin. Milagrosa seemed at loose ends and stood on wobbly feet. Cassie and Lucas moved away quickly and stood side by side as they watched the baby cross the stall and seek out her mother’s teat and another meal.
Cassie had never thought much about being a mother, but seeing the two of them warmed something inside her she’d never expected to feel. Not that she’d ever have more than furbabies. Having them would provide her all the maternal satisfaction in her destiny. Well, except when doting on Kitty’s baby.
Two mornings later, her thoughts remained confused. She had not been able to sleep for days and had worked through the night again last night to finish something. She sipped her coffee and stared nervously across the table as Lucas devoured his breakfast. With his appetite so strong again, he would be well enough in no time to head back down the mountain to his ranch.
That was what she wanted, but the thought of him leaving so soon left her feeling…strange. Not the jubilance she once thought she would feel at his leaving. Perhaps the memory of the moment in the shed as she watched him revive her precious Milagrosa clouded her thinking now. Had Mama Quilla brought him into her life at this time so that he could be here to save her cria? She’d found herself less resentful of his presence since then.
But when he left, chances are she would rarely see him. Their relationship would end. No, relationship was too strong a word. Interlude, maybe? No, that sounded too romantic. Their brief time together. Yes, better.
Cassie set her empty mug on the table. “There’s something I would like to show you in my studio sometime today when you have a few minutes.”
He wiped his mouth with his napkin and grinned in her direction. Her stomach flip-flopped. She hoped she was not coming down with something. No time for being sick. She still had to finish a piece for the exhibition next month.
“I’d love to see your studio. Nothing but snow plowing on the agenda today, and I’ll need some breaks.”
He had been doing all kinds of fix-it projects around her cabin and shed, thinking she was not aware of his activities. She could not quite allow herself to smile and hoped she had not made a mistake by inviting him inside such a private place.
But she truly wanted to share with him the piece she had been working on the past few nights and days.
* * *
Luke approached the studio and saw that the door was ajar. No sense actually knocking.
“Knock, knock, darlin’.”
Cassie stood facing an easel, surveying an oil painting of an older couple. Luke hated seeing the stiffness return to her shoulders and back at the sound of his voice, as if steeling herself for an attack. What would make her think he would ever hurt her? He thought they had moved beyond that level of discomfort and distrust after Millie was born.
Give her time.
She had relaxed a lot more than when he’d first come to in the cabin. Cassie had invited him to her studio—finally. That alone spoke volumes in his favor.
Maybe she was in the middle of something and didn’t want to be disturbed. “Sorry, darlin’. I’ll come back la—”
“No, Lucas, stay!” She turned to face him. Her dusky cheeks hinted at a blush. Hard to tell with her skin coloring, but he liked to think he could make the girl blush, whatever the reason. “I…did not hear you come in.”
Oh, yes, you did. He hung his coat and hat and walked toward her. “What are you working on?”
“Actually, I finished it earlier—a portrait of my parents. Just want to make sure it is right before…” She trailed off, and he turned his focus to the piece.
She’d mentioned this piece before. Said it was something she planned to have delivered to Peru. The colorful oil depicted her mother’s bright red headwear suggesting Native origins, but the man was dressed in a black embroidered shirt with a bolo tie, definitely more of a Spanish influence. Something about the man’s green eyes seemed familiar.
The couple’s gnarled hands clasped before them suggested a hard life. They stared out with little emotion.
He didn’t know why, but a sense of sadness in the painting made his eyes sting. His parents had never been particularly demonstrative with each other—with him, either, for that matter—but they loved one another and him, too.
“It’s beautiful.” He cleared his throat of its raspy sound.
She nodded and turned away from him and the easel. With their advanced age in this portrait, surely Cassie wouldn’t refuse to return home to see them every chance she could. Then again, some families became estranged for varied reasons. She seemed adamant about having no desire to return to Peru.
If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you.
Having her allow him to visit her in her studio was enough for now. He glanced around the room while she crossed the room to a cloth-covered canvas.
Clearly, she spent most of her time in here. The cabin was merely functional—cook, eat, sleep, and not much else—but this room had a homey feel to it. The wall of windows likely allowed for natural light much of the day, but it was cold as hell in here. A freestanding, black woodstove occupied the corner opposite the bed, although no fire burned in it now, despite the chill in the room. The girl preferred the cold, although he spotted a space heater near her workspace. She’d need to keep her oils warm enough to work with, for sure. A stained coffeemaker sat on the counter next to the sink.
Nobody's Dream (Rescue Me Saga #6) Page 9