Dead of Night (The Youngbloods #2)

Dead of Night (The Youngbloods #2) Page 39

“You cannot expose us,” Jesse said.

“You chose your parents over me, so why shouldn’t I choose to do what I want?” Seeing the genuine-looking hurt in his eyes tore at me, but I had to finish this. “There are private islands all over the world, and you have tons of money. Just go buy another one.”

“You’ve made your point,” my brother said. “What do you want?”

“From now on? Leave my brain alone, let me and Jesse date like normal kids, and stop trying to run my life.” I regarded Jesse. “And you. You will not lie to me, or make deals with my brother behind my back. You will start acting like a boyfriend instead of a bodyguard.”

“Is that all?” Trick asked.

“There’s one more condition.” I gestured at both of them. “This idiot feud between our families is over. Finished. Forever.”

Jesse looked at Trick. “I will speak to my parents and tell them they must end the feud or face exposure. Under the circumstances, I’m certain they will agree to your terms.”

Trick looked like he was ready to explode. “I should have let the Van Helsings have you.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” I said in my sweetest voice. “I’m sure even Grandma and Grandpa have Internet access.”

“Catlyn.” My brother heaved a sigh. “All right. I’ll talk to Grayson. But if you’re going to date Jesse, then there will be some rules.” When I started to tell him what I thought of that, he added, “You want to be treated like a normal teenager, then you have to behave like one.” He turned to Jesse. “You have your car around here?” When he nodded, my brother said, “You can take her home. In the mood I’m in, I might shove her off the bike.”

Trick walked off, leaving me with Jesse. As soon as I found my jaw and put in back where it was supposed to be, I felt oddly miffed. “I should have gotten all the dating rules up front. Assuming you still want to see me.”

“I don’t know.” Jesse waited until my brother roared off on his Harley before he smiled slowly. “You were most convincing.”

“Yes, I was.” I threw my arms around his neck as he twirled me around. “We did it. Don’t fall in the water. I love you.”

Jesse didn’t put me back on my feet until he kissed me breathless. Then I was the one who didn’t want to let go.

“My very clever Cat,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around me. “You didn’t tell me you were going to bring the letter.”

“I wouldn’t call it a letter exactly.” I pulled the crumpled ball out of my pocket and grinned up at him. “This is more like a blank sheet of paper I folded up and sealed in this envelope.”

“You took a great risk.” He made a chiding sound. “What if he had tried to read it?”

“As soon as I told him what was—or actually wasn’t—in it, I knew he wouldn’t bother.” I started to toss my bluff into the lake, and then thought better of it. “I think I’d better burn the evidence, just to be sure.”

We walked from the pier to the lot on one side of the docks, where Jesse kept his car. As he went to open the passenger door for me, Sheriff Yamah’s patrol car entered the lot and pulled alongside us. For once he seemed too agitated to notice that I was with Jesse. “Miss Youngblood, is your brother on his way back to the farm?”

“Yes, sir, he is.” I frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“Your brother Gray called the station,” he said. “One of your mares is having trouble foaling, and Dr. Marks is tied up at another farm.” He finally saw Jesse was with me. “Maybe I should take you home.”

“It’s okay, Sheriff. Patrick asked him to drive me back.” To Jesse, I said, “None of us have ever foaled a mare, and Rika’s in trouble. Can you help?”

“Of course.” He glanced over at Yamah. “If you will escort us, James, I will not have to adhere to the speed limit.”

The sheriff nodded. “Let’s not make this a habit. Come on.”

With his lights flashing, Sheriff Yamah led the way out of town and back to the farm. Once we were in the drive, I saw all the lights in the barn blazing, and every horse we owned except Rika standing watch at the fence around the back pasture.

“I’d offer to help, but I don’t know a blessed thing about horses, and I’d just be in the way,” Yamah said to me from his window. “Jesse, watch the time, and don’t make your parents worry.” He touched the brim of his hat and then backed out of the drive.

“How many mares have you foaled?” I asked my dark boy as we hurried to the barn.

“More than I bothered to count.” He stopped me just outside the door. “This will be a messy business, and if the trouble is too great you could lose the mare or the foal.”

“I won’t freak out.” I hoped.

We went into the barn, and as we passed the lights hung by the stalls Jesse began switching them off. “Too much light disturbs the mare,” he explained.

Both of my brothers were in the stall with Rika, who lay on her side in the bedding. She was rocking back and forth and making a low, distressing sound, but it wasn’t because of Gray or Trick. Since we’d rescued the girls Rika had undergone a dramatic personality change, as if Julian’s death had freed her, too. She’d been gentle and calm around my brothers ever since.

Gray, who was kneeling behind her, looked up at us. “What is he doing here?”

“I can help.” Jesse crouched down next to Rika, placing his hand on her shoulder and rubbing it in a soothing motion. “How long ago did her water break?”

Gray’s mouth tightened before he said, “I’m not sure. Maybe half an hour ago.”

Jesse leaned over to where Gray had bound up Rika’s tail in a clean towel wrap. An opaque white bulge protruded from the mare’s birth canal. “That is the foal’s sac.”

I saw two tiny hooves but no nose. “Why isn’t she pushing?”

“The foal is in the wrong position.” Jesse rolled up his sleeves. “If she stands it will retreat and perhaps shift. Have you tried to get her up?”

“Twice.” Trick came into the stall. “She won’t budge.”

“Then we must help her deliver, or the foal will drown inside her.” Jesse moved behind her. “We must do this quickly, on the next contraction. Catlyn, go to her head and reassure her. Patrick, I will need toweling, baling twine and some elastic bands. Gray, you will have to pull the foal.”

“All the books say not to pull,” my brother argued.

“In a normal delivery, that is correct. But this foal is presenting back feet first,” Jesse told him. “In this position the umbilical cord will break inside the womb, which is when the foal begins breathing. There is no air inside her, only fluid.” He stood and backed away from Rika.

“Where are you going?” Gray asked as he shuffled around the mare.

“Your horse does not know me,” Jesse told him as he moved out of the stall. He gazed at me. “You and your sister can do this.”

I stroked Rika’s neck. “It’s okay, girl.” I moved my hand down to the front of her belly, and felt her muscles tighten. “She’s starting to strain again.”

“Take hold of the foal’s legs, in the pastern just above the hooves,” Jesse told Gray. “Pull steadily and firmly, down toward her hocks.” He watched as more of the sac emerged. “The foal’s shoulders are the widest and most difficult to pass, and sometimes they can catch. She will stop and rest for a moment, but you must maintain your hold so the foal does not slip back inside. When she strains again, you must bring it out completely.”

Several tense minutes passed as Rika struggled to push out more of her foal. Just as Jesse had predicted, she stopped to rest halfway through, and then seemed to tense all over.

“Here we go,” I said to Gray.

His jaw set as he pulled on the foal, and then wriggled the sac as Rika pushed harder. The foal’s shoulders bulged out, and then the rest of the sac spilled onto the bedding in a gush of fluids.

“The sac is still intact,” Jesse said. “You must break it, Gray, so the foal can breathe. Poke your fingers through the membrane and pull it away from the face.”

Gray exposed the foal’s head, and then used a towel to wipe mucus from the little nose and eyes. “It’s not breathing.”

Jesse smiled. “The umbilical cord is still attached and intact, which is very good. Use a piece of straw to tickle the nose.”

“Tickle it?” Gray echoed, even as he picked up a piece of straw.

“An old trick. It always works.”

The foal snorted, and then began breathing on its own as it struggled against the sac.

Rika lifted her head and nickered to the foal before she began rolling back into the position to stand.

“Catlyn, move clear of her, she will be uncomfortable for a few more minutes.” Jesse turned to Trick and took one of the towels, handing it over the stall to Gray. “Rub down the foal’s whole body, it will help stimulate circulation and breathing.”

As I moved over to the wall, Rika suddenly stood, shaking herself and turning toward the foal. Gray got a little more spattered as the umbilical cord broke, but he was focused on the foal.

I finally took a look at the little wonder we’d worked so hard to bring into the world. “Do we have a filly or a colt?”

“Filly,” Gray said as he opened a small container of prepared Nolvasan solution and dipped the foal’s navel stump in it. He glanced at the membranes still hanging around Rika’s hind legs. “She hasn’t expelled the placenta.”

“That will take another hour.” To Trick, Jesse said, “Use the baling twine to tie up the membranes so she doesn’t step on them. Catlyn, you must wash her udder before the foal tries to nurse.”