Lois Greiman - [Hope Springs 02] (21 page)

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BOOK: Lois Greiman - [Hope Springs 02]
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C
HAPTER 22
“C
ase. Hey, Case.”
“Yeah.” The single word sounded groggy and misshapen. Since she’d returned to the Lazy six months earlier, sleep had become not only scarce but rather sacred. She lay now in her favorite sleeping position, arms flung out to the side, face squashed against the pillow. She raised her head the slightest degree. “What?”
“Wake up.”
“I
am
awake.” That might have been an out-and-out lie. She rather hoped it was. “Emily? Is that you?”
“Yeah.”
“What time is it?”
“I don’t know.” Casie could hear her shuffling her feet. “Three, maybe.”
“Three in the
morning?
”
“Looks like it.”
Casie closed her eyes. “Why do you think people keep waking me up at three in the morning?”
“I don’t know. Could just be bad luck. Or maybe it’s the fact that some of us are going to have a baby.”
“Yeah, that’s—What!” She would never remember sitting up, but suddenly she was blinking against the light that dimly backlit Emily’s ponderous form. She was standing in the doorway, half in, half out, hand resting on her belly.
“You’re going to have a baby?”
“I thought you knew.” Emily’s face was mostly shadowed, but her dry tone said it all.
“Holy shorts!” Casie breathed. She was out of bed in a second, turning an awkward circle, searching for something she couldn’t quite remember the name of. “Where’s your thing?”
“What thing?”
“Your . . .” She blinked hazily at the girl. “Are you all right?”
“Kind of tired.”
“Get in the truck. Maybe you can sleep on the way. They said you should rest as much as you can until the pain gets too intense.”
“Am I supposed to sleep when
every
horse goes into labor or just Freedom?”
Casie stumbled to a halt. “What?”
They stared at each other.
“Oh.” Emily narrowed her eyes a little. “You didn’t think
I
was in labor, did you?”
There was a pause that stretched out a bit as Casie stared at the girl. “Things are a little blurry.” She said the words slowly. It would be wrong to strike a pregnant woman. “But I’m pretty sure I just asked if you were going to have the baby.”
“Did you mean right
now?
”
Casie put her hand to her heart. It was still there; in fact, it was pretty active. “I don’t know why you hate me, Emily,” she said, and plopped bonelessly onto the mattress behind her.
Emily laughed at the drama. “Geez, Case, I’m not due for a couple weeks yet. But Sophie thinks Freedom is ready to pop any minute.”
“A couple weeks! Holy Hannah, Em. The baby’s not on a time clock. He could come anytime.”
“She.”
“What?”
“I’ve decided it’s a girl.”
“Really? What makes you think—”
“Casie!” Sophie’s voice boomed through the house like a cannon volley.
Casie didn’t even jump at the sound and wondered if it was a bad sign that these early-morning adventures didn’t faze her anymore. “I’m coming,” she said, raising her voice a little before lowering it again as she pushed herself to her feet. “What makes you think it’s a girl?”
“Girls are nice.”
“What are you doing?” Sophie stormed into the doorway, expression mad enough to burn rubber.
“Sometimes,” Emily added, noting Sophie’s irritable expression.
“How’s she doing?” Casie asked, checking a grin as she turned her attention toward the youngest member of their little trio.
“How’s she doing? How’s she doing!” Judging by the sound of Sophie’s voice, the mare was probably doing considerably better than Sophie was. “She’s in shock from the move, she’s physically exhausted, and she probably has kidney damage from dehydration.”
“Sometimes girls are a little bit dramatic, though,” Emily noted.
“Just relax a little,” Casie said. “Take a breath.”
“Take a . . . Just hurry your ass up,” Sophie hissed.
“My ass is hurrying,” Casie said and turned another groggy circle, searching for who knows what. “It’s my mind that’s having a little trouble deciding . . .” She shook her head, trying to clear it. “Okay, I’m coming.”
The barn was mostly dark. Mostly quiet. Angel thrust her head over the half door, ears pricked forward. Beside her, Freedom circled her stall with restless uncertainty.
Casie scowled, trying to mentally engage. “How long has she been agitated like this?”
“Probably her whole life,” Emily said, then, “Oh, were you talking about the horse?”
Sophie glared at her before turning her attention back to Casie.
“I first checked her at three twenty-five. She’s lain down and gotten back up at least five times since then.”
“Any other signs?”
“She’s been dripping milk for about twenty-four hours.”
“Join the club,” Emily said.
“TMI,” Sophie said distractedly and quietly approached the mare’s stall.
Emily shrugged.
“What about her water bag?” Casie asked.
“I think it already broke, but I’m not sure.”
Casie glanced at her watch. “So we think she’s been in labor for at least a half an hour.”
“What’s the norm?” Emily asked.
“Start to finish . . .” Casie paused, thinking back to her Horse Bowl days when she could recall this kind of information with lightning speed. “Three hours. Maybe four. About the same as a cow. Prey animals need to get the job done quick and move on.”
“So flippin’ unfair,” Emily said. She was rubbing her belly. There was a lot of that lately.
“Yeah, well, you just have to push out about nine pounds,” Sophie said. “Freedom has to eject practically a hundred pounds of legs and—”
“Nine pounds!” They were keeping their voices very low. The mare circled again before plopping roughly onto her side with her spine toward them. “If she weighs in over seven, she’s staying in there indefinitely.”
“I don’t think that’s physically possible,” Sophie said. She was scowling as the mare started straining. “I think this is it. Case—”
“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 the old bag and jamming it into the new. Fluids flowed out in a steady stream.

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