Page 23 of The Lies We Told Ourselves

“Yep.”

Cole stepped back and frowned. “I’d recommend introducing some calorie heavy feeds to see if we can step up the weight gain. Let’s alternate for now, but don’t increase her alfalfa until you’re sure she’s tolerating the new feed.”

Booker hummed in agreement, and Cole took a step back, frowning before going to a box of supplies and pulling out a stethoscope.

“Damn,” I heard Booker mutter under his breath. “I was really hoping you didn’t think that as well.”

Cole shook his head sadly and then listened to the mare’s stomach carefully.

“What? What’s wrong?” I asked.

I could feel a sense of panic building. Especially when Cole sighed sadly, his shoulders drooping.

“She’s in foal,” he said, stepping back and shaking his head.

Cole made some notes on a clipboard.

Booker moved to the mare, running a hand over her muzzle.

I felt so out of the loop here. A complete novice with no idea of how to help, and I hated it.

“Try getting some fat-added feed into her diet as soon as she’s balanced out. I know I don’t need to warn you, but I’d be remiss not to remind you to keep an eye out for re-feeding syndrome.” Cole finished writing and shoved his pen in his box before he packed up his things. “She’s good for an antibiotic wash over those sores, and I’d like you to get her hooves trimmed as soon as you can. She’s calm enough that it’s not going to be overly stressful for her.”

Booker hummed in agreement and walked out of the stable, closing the door behind him. I was left standing in the middle of the barn, silently watching the people who could actually help her.

“It was nice to meet you, Reece. I’ll be around in the next few days, but call me if you need anything, Booker.”

Cole and Booker shook hands, and then Booker walked him out to his car. I’d never felt as alone as I did right then.

A soft gust of warm breath tickled the back of my neck, and I turned to see the mare with her head over the stable door for the first time since she’d arrived here.

“Hey there, girl,” I whispered, turning to her and running a hand over her soft muzzle. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you.”

She nudged me gently with her nose, and a sad laugh bubbled out of me. “You getting ready to eat already? Hey, that’s got to be a good sign.”

“It is,” Booker said from behind me.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I’d been filled with all these plans of making him talk about yesterday, but in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t feel all that important now. Not when we were standing here trying to figure out if we could save the sweet girl in front of us.

“She’s going to lose the foal, isn’t she?” I asked.

Booker sighed, and I felt him move closer, the heat of his body warming my back. “She will. We just have to hope we don’t lose her with it. Her body can’t sustain them both, but it’s going to try.”

“There isn’t any way?”

I wanted him to reassure me. To tell me it was all going to be all right. I already knew he was a man who’d fight for what was right, and I didn’t think he’d ever lie to me. If I could just get Booker to tell me we could save them both, then everything would be okay.

“I’ll get her hay net,” he said softly. “I need to work out her new feeding regime, but then I’ll talk you through it,” he said instead.

It felt like a sign. Like the loss of the foal hanging over us symbolized more than us failing the mare I’d come to love. It felt like the beginning of an end.

But I was done giving up on the things I wanted.

I was done letting life drag me down and then kick me for good measure.

Maybe I was setting myself up for a broken heart.

Maybe I was trying to save more than just this little horse.

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