Wrangler's Challenge, page 16
In ten minutes, Noah was back, rubbing his cold hands together to warm them up.
“I’ll bet you that by the time we get done eating, Candy will have foaled.”
“And I bet Harper was happy you brought him something to eat.”
He chuckled as he filled two yellow ceramic bowls with the chili. “For sure. It was such a good idea that Reese had that broodmare suite heated. It’s cold out there, probably dropped into the twenties already. In the suite, it’s a nice fifty-five degrees, just right for a mom ready to give birth. It will also help the foal.”
“The foal won’t get cold or contract pneumonia,” Dair agreed.
He set the bowls on the table. “Come on,” he urged, pointing to one side of the table. “What I’d like to do is eat, and then I’ll wheel you down there. Kira, Shay, and Reese are waiting for Harper to call when the foal’s been born. They’re eager to see the new baby, too.”
“Sounds great,” Dair said, always enthusiastic over a foal being birthed. “Good thing they know to stay away until the foal is born.”
“For sure. There’s broodmares who will stop the birthing process if there’s a crowd of onlookers around. Seen it happen too many times.” Noah placed the platter with buttered bread between them. Going back to the counter, he brought over two glasses of water and then sat down.
The cheese-covered chili melted in her mouth. Noah had also added a thick dollop of sour cream. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten much since the injury, but now she was starving. They ate in companionable silence, just the sounds of their spoons scraping their bowls.
Noah had just finished his first bowl of chili when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his shirt pocket.
“Harper?”
“Yes. Candy just dropped a beautiful jet-black filly. She’s a beauty. Mom and baby are fine. Come on down. And bring me a second bowl of chili? And while you’re at it, four more slices of bread?”
Laughing, Noah said, “You got it. We’ll be down in about ten minutes. Did you call Shay and Kira?”
“They’re next on my list.”
Noah told Dair, “She’s a black filly. That’s a rare color.”
Finishing off her chili, she said, “Truly, it is. I love black. It’s my favorite color in horsedom.”
“Well,” Noah said, “you may be of some help.”
“How?” She munched on the last piece of bread.
“I was talking to Harper when I was down there. He said that Candy is really a sweet mare and she doesn’t mind if someone is in the stall with her and the foal. I was thinking that maybe tomorrow you might wheel on over there and make friends with them. See how Candy responds to you and how the foal reacts to you. Because Harper has to leave for a job south of here for the next week. He won’t be around to handle the foal like it should be handled in order to introduce it to humans.”
“But, I’m in a chair.”
“So what? Let the foal come to you. You can pet her, rub her head, neck, or any part she turns toward you. Didn’t you do this to your foals your grandmother’s broodmares birthed?”
“Well,” Dair said, hesitating, “yes. We’d make sure those foals were completely bonded with us, and not afraid of humans.”
“Think you could do that for Harper while he’s away on that job?”
“I can try. I’ve never been around horses and been stuck in a chair.”
“I’ll be with you at first. We’ll see if it works or not. Okay?”
She smiled. “You’re good for me, Noah.” She saw his cheeks turn ruddy, a sudden bashfulness come to his gray eyes.
“I don’t know how you can say that, Dair. I put you back in your chair by not being responsible toward you.”
She stared at him. “What? That you didn’t speak up about Champ?”
“Yes,” he said, giving her an apologetic look. “I’m the boss. It’s my job to make the tough decisions. Tears always rip me up. I’m a sucker for any child or woman who cries.” His mouth quirked. “If I had just followed my gut, you wouldn’t be sitting in a chair.” He abruptly got up, taking the dirty dishes with him.
Swallowing her shock over his sense of guilt, there was little she could say. Noah scrubbed the dishes in the sink, his broad back toward her. She could feel the churning of his emotions, some anger, some frustration, and his disappointment in himself. Mouth tightening, she wheeled over to within a few feet of where he stood at the sink, rinsing off the dishes.
“I don’t blame you, Noah.” Dair said it quietly. He snapped his head in her direction and she could see the full weight of how he felt. There was raw, gutting guilt there. Opening one hand, she pleaded, “Look, no one’s to blame for this. We all made decisions. I’m as much to blame in this situation, if you want to look at it that way.” Her heart was beating hard because she didn’t like seeing Noah this upset. He wasn’t angry with her. He was angry with himself. She could see it in the flash of his gray eyes, the way he tensed unconsciously.
“Right now,” he said, his voice low and thick with feeling, “I know I put you there. I don’t want to argue about this with you, Dair. You’re in training under me. I let you down. That makes me feel pretty damned disappointed with myself. And you’re paying the price.”
Sighing, she whispered, “Don’t do this to yourself, Noah. I spent a year and a half after I lost my leg, beating the hell out of myself. It does no good.” She watched him scowl as he placed the dishes into the dishwasher. Closing it, he turned and placed his hands on the slender arms of the chair, his face six inches from her own. “You deserve nothing but sunshine, Dair, after all you’ve been through. I like you way more than I should. Because of that, I allowed you to sway me from what I knew. That wasn’t your fault. That was all on me.”
More shock rolled through her. Noah was so close, so vital and alive. He was masculine, the power of him as a man, radiating off him. She picked up that scent of his, and she found herself inhaling it deeply. The stubble on his face, deepening the natural hollows of his cheeks, accentuated that sense of coiled power within him. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and she felt an incredible longing course through her, throwing her into a maelstrom of emotions.
Her hands tightened in her lap as she felt the full force of him connecting with her. Worse, she was yearning for him. His admission that he liked her way too much threw her off balance. What did that mean? She wasn’t angry or upset with him. Dair whispered, “You can’t bluster at me, Noah. I’m not going to blame you for what happened to me. I’m a big girl. I wear big girl panties, in case that is lost on you.” For a moment, she saw his chagrin change to amusement. And then he broke her gaze, bowing his head for a moment.
Noah straightened, holding her defiant gaze. “Big girl panties, huh?”
“Yeah,” she growled.
He scratched his head, giving her an amused look. “Never heard that saying before.”
“Well, you aren’t a girl, either,” she said, losing some of the defiance in her tone. Lifting her finger, Dair shook it up at him. “I won’t let you take all the blame for this, Noah. I had a part in it, too. So I’m paying the price. I disregarded my gut hunch on Champ, too. I knew he was dangerous. I sensed that he wouldn’t change. I was just as swayed by the little girl’s tears and pleading as much as you were. So? Blame us for having soft hearts and not listening to our heads.”
He sighed, giving her a wry look. “I’ll always be sorry I helped put you in this present situation, Dair.”
His apology made her wince because she could see the regret in his expression. “We’ll get over this together, okay?” She wanted desperately to ask him what he meant by liking her too much. Noah had never made a move to show her he had any interest in her other than being a kind, compassionate person. What did he mean by that statement? It was on the tip of her tongue to ask when his phone rang.
Noah answered. It was Harper.
“Hey, I can sure use another bowl of that chili, Noah. Are you going to come down here soon?”
“You have a hollow leg, Harper,” he growled. “Yeah, we’ll be down shortly.” He slipped the phone into his shirt pocket.
“Harper’s still hungry?” Dair asked, grinning.
“Yeah. The guy is lean as hell and he eats for three people. Want to go down and see the little filly with me?”
“In a heartbeat,” Dair murmured, glad that they were off the other topic. She was discovering that Noah had a very sensitive conscience. With a shake of her head, she turned and wheeled into the mudroom to don her winter gear while he fixed another huge bowl of chili for Harper.
There was a tenderness in Noah’s eyes as he handed her the wrapped bowl of chili that he’d put on a tray across her lap for her to hold on the trip down to the barn. He’d also wrapped up four more pieces of bread that had been slathered with butter. And added a thermos of black coffee.
“You’re a good friend to Harper,” she said, tucking all of it onto the tray as he pulled on his winter gear.
“Like to treat people as I want to be treated.”
“Is that your mom or dad’s teaching?” she wondered when he went and opened the door.
Walking behind her chair, he gripped the handles with his leather gloves. “Both of them. I like their stand-up morals and values.”
She twisted a look up at him, her head tipped back. “I like who you are, Noah. You’re a good man.” And he was. For an instant, she saw her softly spoken compliment reach out and move him. And then, just as quickly, he hid his reaction.
“On some days,” he muttered. “Let’s go, pardner . . .”
* * *
The lights from their house as well as the ones at each barn entrance provided plenty of light to see where Noah was pushing her chair, and Dair could barely contain her excitement. She spotted Shay, Reese, and Kira gathered down at the door to the main horse barn. They were waiting for them, and that touched her heart. Only in the military was there such unspoken camaraderie among a unit of people. And there was no mistake about it: Even though they were civilians now, scrambling to survive in their new world, they were doing it together. In some ways, as Noah wheeled her up to the huddled group in the freezing night air, Dair looked at the military like a beehive of sorts.
Everyone was a worker bee doing something for the good of the whole hive’s survival. The military was exactly like that. Everyone had a career designation, was trained up for it and contributed through constant teamwork within their squad, platoon, or company. It grew to be a battalion or division, but it was the same hive. Every one of them was a worker bee in the military. It was no different here on the Bar C, either.
She saw Shay give her a huge, happy smile as they rolled up to the group.
“A black filly, Dair! She’s so cute!”
“You guys already saw her?” Dair asked.
“Yes,” Reese said. “We didn’t want to all go in at once and make the mother tense. Harper took us in, one at a time.” He smiled. “She’s a cutie. Strong, curious, and has no fear of two-leggeds.”
“That’s great,” Dair said, eager to see the newborn. “How’s the mom doing?”
“Oh, she’s fine. This is her fourth foal, from what Harper said,” Shay told her. “She’s an old pro at this.”
“Then you’re heading home?” Noah asked them.
“Yep,” Kira said. She patted the arm of his jacket. “Go in and see her. Harper’s moaning that he’s hungry enough to start eating two-by-fours.” She laughed.
“The guy has a perpetual hole in his stomach,” Noah groused, smiling sourly as Reese opened the door and he pushed Dair into the warmer interior of the barn.
Dair inhaled the wonderful scent of sweet timothy hay along with the alfalfa hay stacked in another area of the huge three-story barn. The broodmare suite was away from the rows of rented box stalls. She’d been there a couple of times, marveling at how well it was conceived and designed.
Noah turned her chair and pulled her through another door that led to the suite area. It had low lighting, but not so dark that they couldn’t see. She’d been there with Harper, whose expertise was in breeding and foaling, a number of times earlier. He’d shown her the suite that looked more like a penthouse than a box stall.
“There he is,” she said excitedly, pointing down toward the other end of the concrete aisleway.
“Yeah, waiting for his food,” Noah said, chuckling.
Dair held on to the tray but lifted her other hand, waving at the cowboy dressed in a thick sheepskin jacket, tan Stetson, and his nearly threadbare Levi’s. As Noah had told her before, Harper never threw anything away, not even his jeans when they should have been tossed years ago.
“I can hardly wait to see the little filly,” she whispered, suddenly emotional.
“It’s going to be special,” Noah agreed thickly. “First, we’ll feed this bear of a man and then he’ll take us into the suite.” Slowing the chair, he lifted one hand to smooth Dair’s long black hair away from her shoulder.
Drawing in a swift, soft breath, Dair turned, twisting to look up at him, surprised by his intimate touch as he moved the strands aside. Her scalp prickled pleasantly and her heart opened over the unexpected gesture. There was something in his eyes, but she was too afraid to interpret it. At least, not yet. That look sent a river of fire flowing strongly throughout her body, pooling hotly below, and there was no way not to feel herself coming alive in a way she never had before.
Chapter Twelve
Dair couldn’t keep from making a happy sound as Noah wheeled her into the large, airy broodmare suite. It was fifty feet long and twenty feet deep, giving the pregnant mare an opportunity to pace around in the glass-enclosed area. Reese had ordered bulletproof glass for the front of the stall. Only the sliding door was of heavy oak and had a set of Dutch doors, allowing the mare to poke her head out of the stall if she wanted.
Harper grinned widely and walked out to meet them in the aisleway. “Hey, you got some food for me, Dair?”
Laughing, she held up the tray. Noah had thoughtfully placed a large spoon, a napkin, a bottle of water, a thermos of coffee, plus the food. “Here you go,” she said.
“Thanks,” he said. “Hey, go take a look at mama and baby. They’re doing fine. I’m gonna go over to that bale of hay, sit down and eat. I’m starving to death.”
“You already had one bowl of chili,” Noah reminded him with a grin. “It’s that perennial hollow leg, pardner. Either that or you won’t sleep tonight because of indigestion.”
Harper tittered and walked with the tray to the bale of timothy hay sitting along the opposite oak wall. “I know. My mother always said I was born with a tapeworm in my gut.”
Noah laughed and so did Dair. “We’ll just stand quietly outside the stall.”
“Yeah. When I get done, and when that pretty little filly gets done drinking her fill, I’ll take you inside one at a time.”
Straining her neck as Noah wheeled her down the aisle, Dair caught sight of the tiny black foal who was less than an hour old. She had her thin, long legs spread out like a tent to stay upright as she assertively bumped her mama’s milk sac and suckled noisily, gulping and drinking as fast as she could.
“Ohhhhh, she’s so pretty!” Dair whispered, turning, catching Noah’s smile.
“Yeah, pretty, well built, and she’s a winner,” he agreed, critically looking at the foal.
Candy, the mother, a red sorrel, lifted her head as they quietly spoke to one another. She nickered softly, remaining in the center of the straw-covered stall, her ears up, alert as they slowly approached.
Noah placed the chair in the vicinity of the shatterproof glass wall. He set the brake and said, “Let’s just stand and watch. I don’t want the filly to be disturbed from getting her fill of milk.”
“For sure,” Dair agreed, absorbing Noah’s presence, his hands resting on the handles of the chair. Dair could feel the heat of his body and it just made this experience so much more special for her. She grinned and said, “Wow, look at her little brush tail waving back and forth like a clock ticking.” Dair knew the importance of assessing the strength of a foal less than an hour old. And this filly was strong! She was constantly head-butting her mother’s milk sac, suckling noisily so that even Dair could hear it from behind the glass wall. The mother would turn and lick the baby’s black, fluffy fur, smoothing it down here and there across the back. Candy was a wonderful mother, as Harper had told her before.
“This is one of the best things about being around horses,” Dair whispered, tipping her head upward, meeting Noah’s gaze. “I love working with broodmares, helping with the foaling process. The are so cute!”
Noah laid his hand on Dair’s jacket, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You’re just a natural mother, is all,” he said.
The heat of Noah’s hand transferred through her heavy coat, and Dair had never felt so happy as right now. The black filly moved around, those tiny, slender legs of hers still unsteady, but she was bound and determined to stay upright to get that milk. Candy hung her head, her eyes half-closed.
It was always amazing to Dair how strong the broodmares were after the foaling process. It took them an hour or less, once in labor, to deliver their foal. They remained standing, taking care of their baby and then semi-dozing as the foal suckled, just as Candy was doing right now. She had lots of straw stuck in her red mane, and Dair itched to get in there and pull it out, to give the mare a nice curry and soft brushing down to make her feel better.
They stood there quietly, watching the filly eagerly drink her fill. And when she was done, her spindly legs collapsed beneath her and she plopped down on the thick, cushiony wheat straw spread throughout the suite. The foal then stretched out, nestling her face into the straw, and promptly fell asleep.
Dair laughed softly. “What a little sweetie that filly is.”
“Yeah,” Noah said, smiling, keeping his hand on Dair’s shoulder. “She’s a real tiger. But that’s a good sign. She came out strong and ready to take on the world.”
