Page 16 of Waiting for the Rancher
The foal was a fine-looking colt with a dark black coat.
Maverick reclined in the hay mound that he’d shoveled into a pile so he and Hazel would have a comfortable place to sit while they observed the mama and foal.
Beside him, Hazel released a happy sigh. He’d heard it enough over the years that he didn’t even need to see the satisfaction in her eyes to know what the sound meant—that she was pleased with how everything was going.
The foaling had taken long hours. Darkness had fallen and the dinner hour had passed with Clementine bringing them each a plate of the roast and potatoes she’d made. Tiny had started pacing restlessly, frequently lying down and then getting up in order to reposition the foal in the birth canal.
The water hadn’t broken for several more hours after that. But within a short time, the foal’s front feet and nose had made an appearance. Then Tiny had worked hard to push the foal the rest of the way.
Hazel had needed to rupture the amniotic membrane, but otherwise Tiny had taken care of everything else. An hour later the placenta had passed. The foal had suckled at least once. Now the mother and babe were bonding.
Hazel was waiting for the foal to urinate for the first time as well as pass the meconium. But there was no hurry. Both would happen in time, especially since the newborn appeared to be healthy and strong.
Hazel hadn’t needed him during the delivery. She could have handled it all by herself, even if something had gone wrong. But the plain truth was, he liked being there, liked witnessing the new life entering the world, liked seeing something so beautiful and hopeful. More than that, he liked watching Hazel work so proficiently and confidently with the mare and foal.
“You’re good at the foaling,” he whispered in the night air, which had grown colder with each passing hour. He’d already turned down the flame on the lantern overhead, so that now a warm glow filled the birthing area instead of the bright light they’d used earlier.
Last time he’d peeked outside, it had been snowing lightly. While snow wasn’t a regular occurrence in Summit County in the spring, it happened enough that he wasn’t surprised. The covering would just make it harder for the horses and the cattle to forage for feed.
Hazel stifled a yawn behind her hand. “It helps that I love what I do.” She settled deeper into the hay, her hat and coat long ago discarded. Her hair hung in a single braid over her shoulder and had flipped haphazardly so that the end of it rested against his hand.
He’d been tempted to run a finger along the plait, but he’d resisted. Just as he’d resisted letting his gaze drift to her womanly figure. He’d already made that mistake once today, and he still felt the heat of desire all the way to his bones.
It was a desire he’d do well to ignore, even to pretend didn’t exist. Maybe with other women, he would have allowed that desire to blaze a little. He would have flirted and let something simmer—at the most might have stolen a kiss or two.
But Hazel wasn’t like any other woman. She actually wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever known. And he didn’t intend to let desire blaze, simmer, or anything else.
He knew from past birthings that even if he offered her a bed in the house, she’d insist on remaining with the mare and foal. She’d stay up most of the night with the newborn, keeping an eye out for any problems that might arise.
Normally, at about this point in the foaling, he’d turn in and catch a few hours of shut-eye. But tonight, for a reason he couldn’t explain, he wasn’t ready to head to bed. He wanted to linger in the hay beside her, watch the mama and foal, and whisper about anything.
He settled back further, kicking out his legs and crossing them at the ankles.
“You should get some sleep,” she whispered.
“I’m not tired yet.”
“Morning chores will come soon enough.”
She was right about that. He had a whole long list of things to do that he’d been neglecting that week, including overseeing several of the stud stallions. But putting off the work one more day wouldn’t hurt. “Someone’s gotta keep you from sleeping on the job.”
She laughed lightly and elbowed him. “I’ve done this more times than I can count, and I’ve never once fallen asleep.”
“Not even to doze?”
“Well, if all is going perfectly, then sometimes I rest for a little bit.”
“You’re pretty amazing.”
Again she laughed softly. “Thank you, Maverick. But you do know you pay me to do this, don’t you?”
“Don’t matter none. You did it for years without any compensation, and I reckon you’d keep doing it even if I couldn’t pay you.”
She shrugged, and her cheeks began to flush.
How had he never noticed that she flushed at compliments? Maybe he’d have to do it more often, just so he could watch her cheeks turn pink.
The real question that had been pestering him was how interested she really was in Ross. He’d wanted to ask her more about it, but there hadn’t been an opportunity until now. “So, Ross, huh?”
