Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“We need formula.”
“We need a nurse mare,” I counter, raising an eyebrow. “Because as much as I love her, I can’t stay and feed her every two hours until the end of time.”
“Well, shit.” The ranch owner, Caleb Kincaid, strides over and sighs when he sees the mother horse. “Damn, she was a sweetheart.”
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him softly and have to swallow down the tears that want to come. “There was nothing we could do, and we tried everything.”
“I know,” Caleb replies and drags his hand down his face and smiles softly at the baby. “The foal made it.”
“She did. She’s going to need a nurse mare, if we can find her one.”
A nurse mare is a female who has recently given birth but may have lost the baby. We can give her hormones and work with her to get her to take to the baby, adopting her as her own.
“I have another horse who just gave birth two days ago,” Caleb says, thinking it over. “The baby’s with her, but maybe she could take a second and it would be like twins?”
Dr. Fisher and I share a look.
“It’s possible,” Dr. Fisher says slowly. “But you’d need to make sure her nutrition is impeccable, and we’d want to keep a close eye on her.”
“I have no issue with that,” Caleb responds. “The baby would be happier with a mama rather than having one of us come out with a bottle every two hours.”
He’s right.
“We need more clean towels,” I tell Caleb. “I’ll wipe up the other mare’s sweat and cover the foal with it.”
I turn to Dr. Fisher.
“Do you think she’ll need hormones if she just had a baby two days ago?”
“Only one way to find out,” he says. “Let’s try. The sooner the better.”
For the next hour, the three of us work to get the foal ready to introduce to the mare, and we end up spending all day with her, with the babies.
Anything could go wrong, and we want to be on hand, just in case. I absolutely don’t want the mare to hurt this foal, after we all worked so hard to get it here safely.
The foal keeps trying to feed on the mare, but she moves away from the baby, so I’ve bottle-fed her throughout the day.
I’m exhausted.
I’m dirty.
I want to go home, and I want to see Tucker.
But it doesn’t look like I’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.
“Let’s start a round of hormones,” Dr. Fisher says. “Maybe that’ll get her interested. We keep feeding that baby until the mare decides for sure if she’ll adopt her.”
“Got it.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TUCKER
She never came home this morning, which means my girl has been out on a call for almost twenty-four hours.
And I fucking hate it.
She’s texted to let me know that it’s a bad birth situation and she can’t leave, but Jesus, that’s a long fucking time.
I had a greenhouse delivered today and placed in the grassy area where Darby mentioned she’d put one, if this were her house. It’s ready for her to fill with whatever the hell she wants. Flowers, herbs, vegetables—I have no idea what she’s thinking, but it’s all hers.
And is it ridiculous to offer her something so permanent when this is a one-year gig? Probably.
But I don’t seem to give a shit.
Scott’s standing next to me, his arms folded over his chest, and we’re staring at the area around the greenhouse, which as of now, is just nothing.
“How many boxes are we building?”
“Six. Two on each side, and two in the back,” I reply. I can see it perfectly in my head. I can also picture my Duchess out here, tending to whatever she wants to plant, and the mental picture almost makes me hard. “Each of the raised garden boxes will be four feet wide by ten feet long.”
“Let me get this straight,” he replies, holding up a hand. “Rather than being out fixing fence tomorrow, we’re building flower beds.”
I cross my arms over my chest and tilt my head to the side, staring at him. “Yes.”
“Why?”
Because Darby wants them, and it seems that I’m going to do my best to give her anything her little heart desires.
Instead, I simply raise an eyebrow. “Because I fucking said so. It won’t even take a full day.”
My manager shrugs and then nods. “Yeah, okay. You’ve just never really cared about flowers. Does this have anything to do with a certain pretty vet intern?”
“Maybe I just suddenly want a vegetable garden.”
He scoffs and rubs the back of his neck. “Right. And I suddenly love snuggling with grizzly bears.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“But you can’t live without me,” he replies and checks the time. “I need to get home so I can help with the baby, who is the most beautiful creature ever born, by the way.”
“Yes, I know, you show us all at least twenty new photos a day. She’s barely a day old. She doesn’t change that much day to day, you know.”