Cowboy All Night. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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СКАЧАТЬ of sympathy for her. Everyone else knew him well. They could separate jokes from fact.

      Lexi stepped into the breach. “You have to take everything Brant says with a grain of salt, but on the plus side, you don’t have to worry that he’ll ever get mad at you. You can’t rile this cowboy. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

      Cade laughed. “We’ve all tried. My specialty was rubber snakes tucked into a guy’s bunk. I got a rise out of everyone but Brant. He named that rubber snake Elmer and treated it like a beloved pet. Then he—”

      “Hate to interrupt.” Herb’s gentle voice from the depths of the stall brought them all back to the matter at hand. “But it’s show time.” His comment was punctuated with a loud groan from the mare.

      Brant walked to the stall door and looked in. Lucy, a golden palomino the color of the setting sun, lay on her side with her flanks heaving. Herb moved with the brisk efficiency of a man twenty years younger as he crouched behind the mare. He’d put on his glasses, always a sign the birth was imminent.

      Opening the unlatched stall door, Brant slipped inside. “Hey, Dad.”

      He glanced up. “Good to see you, son.”

      “You’re looking chipper. Teaching must agree with you.”

      “I had no idea I’d love it so much.” He smiled at Brant. “Like old times being together like this, huh?”

      “Sure is. Nice feeling.”

      “Yep.” Herb held his gaze for a moment before clearing his throat. “All righty, then. You take her head and I’ll handle the business end, just like we’ve always done.”

      “Got it.” Nudging his hat back, Brant dropped to his knees in the straw and began stroking Lucy’s sweaty neck. “Easy does it, sweetheart,” he crooned. “Just relax and let nature take its course.”

      Lucy snuffled in response.

      He laid his hand against the vein pulsing in her neck and held it there. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured, “and your baby will be fine. Just go with it. No worries, Lucy.”

      She groaned again and quieted.

      “Good,” Herb said. “I just felt her relax. Keep talking.”

      Brant settled into the rhythm he’d developed over the years. Moving his hand in slow circles, he congratulated Lucy on the beautiful baby she was about to bring into the world. He praised her bravery and talked about what a good mother she would be.

      What joy he felt during these moments. Every time he watched a birth, he felt like a kid on Christmas morning. Or rather, the way he imagined a kid who’d had a typical childhood might feel. His type-A dad had always been on the phone or his computer, even on Christmas morning. Probably why he’d died so young.

      With luck and good care, the foal would live thirty or even forty years. It would bring happiness to many people and would be trustworthy because he would teach it not to be afraid. He couldn’t guarantee that every foal’s life would be perfect, but he only accepted jobs when he knew the people in charge were kind.

      If Rosie approved of Aria, that was good enough for him. The brother was an unknown, but Rosie must have faith that Aria could handle that situation, too. He believed horses could work miracles with people, so he’d do his part to help this plan along.

      “I see the forelegs.” Herb’s voice vibrated with excitement.

      Love for his foster father gripped him in a warm embrace. The guy had been delivering foals for many years, yet he still felt the thrill. Herb and Rosie Padgett had been wonderful role models for all their foster boys.

      Lucy shifted beneath his hand and her flanks heaved. “Doing great, Lucy,” he said softly. “A few more minutes and we’ll meet your little one.”

      “There’s the nose.” Herb nearly chortled with glee.

      Someone sucked in a breath. Brant glanced up to see Aria white-knuckling the stall door as she stared at the emerging foal with wide eyes. Rosie, Lexi and Cade had given her the front-row view.

      “It’s going well, Aria,” Brant said quietly. He willed her to bring it down a notch.

      She nodded without taking her attention from the foal. Then she took a deep breath and her shoulders relaxed a little. She was trying.

      “And there you go,” Herb said. “Just like that. All done. Lucy, you have a beautiful little colt.” He reached for a bucket and began cleaning the glistening membrane away.

      Brant glanced up at Aria and smiled. “Congratulations.”

      “Thanks.” Her response was shaky and she blinked away tears as she continued to hold on to the stall door for support. Behind her the others kept up a happy little buzz of conversation. Their camera phones clicked many times, but Aria didn’t move.

      “Yep, he looks great,” said Herb. “Brant, ready to switch with me while I check Lucy’s vitals?”

      “You bet.” Brant traded places with Herb and sank to his knees next to the peach-colored colt. This little guy might turn out to be a palomino like his mom. “Pleased to meet you, buddy.” He picked up a clean towel from the stack Herb had brought in and began slowly wiping the colt’s damp coat while he murmured every compliment he could think of.

      When the foal was reasonably dry, he discarded the towel and used his bare hands to massage the tiny body. Then he raised his voice enough that Aria would be able to hear him. “Does this fellow have a name?”

      “Linus,” came the whispered reply.

      That made him smile. Linus had been his favorite Peanuts character.

      “Can I...can I come in?”

      He mentally crossed his fingers. “Sure.” He kept his focus on the baby, who seemed relaxed. “Just do it slowly. No quick movements.”

      Her flowery perfume was subtle, but he registered it as she knelt in the straw beside him. The straw must be rough on her bare knees, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her breathing was steady and he didn’t feel tension coming from her. For a moment she didn’t say anything.

      He wasn’t surprised. Miracles had a tendency to rob people of speech. He would have been disappointed if she’d started chattering away, oblivious to the wonder of watching a life begin.

      At last she spoke, awe in her voice. “He has a blaze.”

      “Yep.”

      “And blue eyes.”

      “For now. They’ll darken later.”

      “He’s...perfect.”

      “Yes, he is.” The emotion in her voice matched what he felt every time he attended a birth. He didn’t know much about her, but judging from her reaction to this foal, he would get along with her. If she could manage to relax a little more, they’d get along even better.

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