She copied the vet’s number from the barn wall, ran back to the kitchen, dialed the number, and waited. No answer. Great. The horse was dying at eleven – thirty on a Sunday night in the middle of a raging blizzard. Her chances of finding a vet were about as good as her chances of flying to Tokyo without a plane.
Stay calm, she told herself. If you can’t get a vet, then call a doctor! That was insane. What doctor would come out on a night like this to look at a hyper horse? Pat.
Half an hour later Pat slowly drove his car into a ditch at the entrance to Megan’s driveway. He crawled through the passenger side window, catapulted himself off the tilted chassis into a waist – high snowbank, and quickly ran through his entire repertoire of expletives.
He was wading through the storm of the century, in the middle of the night, to examine a horse. He’d have liked to think it was a ruse Megan had constructed to bring them together, but he knew better. Not even Megan could think up something as dumb as this. A horse, for crying out loud. He didn’t know anything about horses.
He’d been in a black mood for six days, and slogging through knee – high snow wasn’t doing much to improve his disposition. He missed Megan, dammit. He missed her every second of every minute of every day. And he was furious with himself for missing her. He should have known better than to fall in love with a stubborn redhead. When Megan did something, she did it all the way. A hundred and three percent. She was… overwhelming.
He opened the barn door, and was happy for the warmth he found there. Megan had dragged her space heater into the building. She’d also draped a full – size feather quilt over the obese horse and tied it on with baling twine. She was standing beside the stall, wringing her hands, and he smiled in spite of himself. She was singing nursery rhymes, trying to calm the crazy horse.
“Looks like you’re taking good care of my patient,” he said softly.
She whirled around to face him. “I don’t know what to do for it!” she cried. “I tried calling the owner and the vet but no one answered. I don’t know anything about horses.”
Pat looked at the horse. It seemed bigger than he’d remembered.
“So what’s wrong with it? Measles?Sore throat? Diaper rash? I hope it’s one of those, Megan. They’re my specialty.”
“Um, no. It’s none of those. It’s just acting weird.”
“You called me over here because the horse is acting weird?”
“I think it ate something awful. Its stomach is all distended.”
Pat cautiously approached the horse and untied the baling twine. “Nice horsey,” he said, sliding the quilt off. “Nice fat horsey. Looks like it ate a car.”
Suddenly the horse’s knees buckled and the animal rolled onto its side.
“Holy cow!” Pat said, jumping back. He cleared his throat and blushed. “Took me by surprise.”
“Oh, Pat, what’s wrong with it? I don’t know much about horses, but I know they’re supposed to be standing up. It’s not going to die, is it?”
He knelt beside the animal and ran his hand along the straining belly. “Honey, I’m afraid you called the wrong doctor. This horse doesn’t need a pediatrician. It needs an obstetrician.”
“You mean it’s having a baby? Can it do it by itself?”
“Lord, I hope so.”
After ten minutes Pat felt the mare’s belly again and shook his head. “I don’t know much about this, but I don’t think she’s progressing the way she should. Keep her calm. I’ll be right back.”
Within minutes he’d returned, carrying a sheet and a plastic bag. “Let’s get the sheet under her as best we can. Tie her tail up in the plastic bag so it’s out of my way.”
He took off his jacket, sweater, and shirt and knelt behind the horse. “I’m scrubbed up to my armpits. Let’s hope once I get my hand in there, I can get it back out!”
“Good heavens, you mean you’re going to… um, examine her?”
“This would be a good time to sing one of those nursery rhymes. I’d rather she wasn’t thinking about what I’m doing down here.”
“Okay, horse,” Megan said cheerfully. “We’re all going to work together to have a baby now. Are you listening?”
“It’s the legs,” Pat said. “I don’t think she can deliver in this position. I can see a nose and a hoof, but the second leg is stuck. I have to ease it up beside the first one.”
The horse was grunting like mad, and Megan was nervous. “Are you sure you can do that?” she asked.
“Megan, I’ve delivered a bunch of human babies, a litter of kittens when I was ten, and I’ve read All Things Great and Small. That’s the extent of my veterinary knowledge. I’m not sure of anything, but I’m going to try.”
A minute later he sat back on his heels and grinned. “I did it! A few good contractions, and it should slide right out.”
Minutes later the wobbly newborn was standing next to its mother, who licked at its wet body.
Megan’s cheeks were soaked with tears. “It’s a miracle,” she said with a gasp, choked with emotion. “I’ve never seen a birth. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
Pat examined the mare, and pronounced her sound. Then he collapsed against the side of the stall to watch his newest patient.
“Tired?” Megan asked.
“Naw, not me. That was a piece of cake. You have any other animals you want me to deliver? A cow?Maybe an elephant?”
She sat beside him, her face glowing with love and pride. “You were wonderful.”
“You were, too. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“We’re a team.”
His gaze held hers. They were a team, he thought. In every sense of the word. And he couldn’t for the life of him imagine why the thought of marriage had frightened him.
The foal stood on spindly legs and nuzzled at its mother’s belly, searching for its first meal. It took a step forward and stumbled. It righted itself, wagged its tail, and succeeded in its search.
“It’s a beautiful baby,” Megan said proudly.
Pat grinned. He’d heard that tone of voice before, and he strongly suspected Megan would want to adopt the horse. Well, hell, if that was what she wanted… How hard could it be to adopt a horse? Probably they should get legally married first. Wouldn’t want an illegitimate horse, he thought, feeling lighthearted and foolish.
He wanted to reach out to Megan, to untie her braids and snuggle next to her in the hay, but he needed to get clean first. “I’m afraid I’m not such a neat obstetrician,” he said, ineffectually wiping his hands on a towel. “Can I use your shower?”
Megan swallowed. Patrick Hunter in her shower.Naked. What a lovely thought. If she played her cards right, she could probably get him into her bed. What the heck? she thought. He was already firmly implanted in her heart.
Yup, she was ready to dangle, to hang in there, to fight for her man. No more pouting over hurt feelings and old insecurities. She was going to convince Pat that marriage would be wonderful. Any man who could deliver a horse could live through marriage, she decided.
“Of course you can use my shower. You go ahead, and I’ll close up the barn.”
She shoveled out the soiled bedding and spread a clean layer of fresh sawdust over the stall floor. She left the lights on, knowing they’d be checking on the horses throughout the night, closed the barn door, secured the latch, and winced as wind – driven snow pelted her face and stung her eyes.
She found Pat sitting in her bed, sipping brandy, covers precariously draped across his bare hips. His hair was damp from his shower, and his smile reminded her of the Big Bad Wolf.
“I didn’t have a thing to wear,” he explained.