‘Jim Neilson at his worst, I’m afraid.’
‘Hmm. He’s worried.’ And perhaps not without good reason since the largest animal she’d treated in the last few years had been a lanky Great Dane.
‘I feel like I should offer a blanket apology for Australian men. We’re not all obnoxious, all the time.’
She swivelled her head to look up at him. ‘Just some of you, some of the time?’
‘Quite.’ He grinned at her, his green eyes glowing with open approval. Her heart fluttered uncomfortably. ‘You haven’t met me at my best either, have you?’
She swallowed.
‘Matt Gardiner. Local doctor.’ He held out his hand. ‘And you are the horse whisperer. Much more use than a fairy godmother.’
‘No horse whisperer, I’m afraid. Just Caitlin Butler-Brown. Itinerant veterinarian.’
Glancing down as her hand slipped into his, she was very glad she’d already introduced herself. Long fingers closed around hers, causing a warm tingle that had her utterly focused on his touch. The sensation intensified when his thumb brushed over her knuckles.
‘Even better. Glad to meet you, Caitlin Butler-Brown.’
She couldn’t have replied if her life depended on it.
A grunt of pain from the mare gave her the will to reclaim her hand…and her mind. She curled her fingers into a tight fist to quell the lingering fizz of the connection.
She forced her mind to the job at hand. ‘If I do need to scrub, is there anywhere handy I can get soap and water?’
‘I have water in the car. And I’ve got a bottle of alcohol hand sanitiser in my bag.’
‘That’ll do the job. Thanks.’
The scratch and hiss of a match announced Jim’s return. She realised he was beside her, puffing on a cigarette in agitated gasps. The smell of smoke hung, unpleasant, on the crisp morning air, but Caitlin couldn’t bring herself to complain. She was glad he was there, a defence of sorts against the man at her other shoulder.
Long minutes crawled by as they watched the mare.
‘Dad?’
Caitlin’s system jolted. Dad? She turned slightly, aware of Matt doing the same, to see a slim boy of about ten standing behind them. Except for his dark hair he was the spitting image of the man beside her. Matt had a child. He was married…or at least very committed. A surprising disappointment stabbed her square in the chest.
‘I thought I told you to wait in the car,’ said Matt.
‘But I wanted to see the horse.’ The boy stared at the groaning mare.
‘Mmm. That makes all the difference, of course.’ He ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘Caitlin, this is my son, Nicky. Nicky, this is Dr Butler-Brown. She’s a vet.’
‘Nice to meet you, Nicky.’ Despite her disturbing reactions about his father, she didn’t have to fake a smile for the boy—he was adorable. ‘You can call me Caitlin.’
‘Hi.’ Anxious green eyes lifted to meet hers. ‘What’s wrong with him? Is he sick?’
‘No, not sick.’ Caitlin glanced over at the mare and smiled again, knowing Nicky needed reassurance. ‘It’s a mare and she’s going to have a foal.’
‘Wow. A foal? Like…now?’
She chuckled softly. ‘Yes, very much like now.’
‘Can I watch?’
She looked at Matt.
He shrugged. ‘Sure.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’
Matt’s eyebrows came together sternly. ‘This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, sport.’
‘I know.’ Nicky looked both angelic and cheeky as he grinned up at his father.
The loving affection in the look the two exchanged brought a lump to Caitlin’s throat. Instinctively, she knew Nicky would never doubt his place in Matt’s heart.
Her eyes stung as she turned away. It was like getting a glimpse into the way a family should work, one where love was given unconditionally. The kind of family she would never be a part of. The insight was stunning. Powerful. Beautiful.
The mare moved restlessly. Another contraction and the membranes ruptured with a watery rush. Caitlin’s focus sharpened. Spindly legs and a tiny narrow head were clearly visible. The delivery should proceed quickly now.
The minutes stretched and her instincts began to clamour. She drew in a deep breath and held it for several seconds. Something was wrong.
She licked dry lips then turned to Matt. ‘I’m going to need that alcohol sanitiser after all, please, Matt. I need to check the foal’s position.’
‘Right.’
Jim fidgeted, pulling at the waistband of his grubby jeans. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Your mare’s not progressing as quickly as I’d like now that her waters have broken,’ said Caitlin calmly. ‘Did you have any scans done on her through the pregnancy?’
‘Nope. She didn’t need ’em.’
So, no clues as to what the problem might be. Caitlin prayed it was a straightforward abnormal presentation. Anything more complex could be hard to deal with under these circumstances. And with Nicky there, too.
‘Have you got any clean cloths in your truck, Mr Neilson?’
The cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth bobbed as he thought about it. ‘There’s a bunch of towels the missus forgot to take out yesterday.’
They’d do. ‘Could you get them for me, please?’
Jim nodded, casting the mare a worried look as he headed to his vehicle.
Matt was back with his bag and a bottle of clear gel.
She stripped off her ribbed jumper, looked for somewhere to put it. Matt was one step ahead of her. ‘Grab Caitlin’s top for her, please, Nicky.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled at Nicky as he held out his hands.
He clutched the jumper. She could feel his eyes following her every move as she squeezed out a generous handful of gel and rubbed her arm from fingertips to shoulder.
‘Are you going to take the foal out now?’
Without stopping her preparation, she sent him a gentle smile. ‘I’m going to feel how he’s lying inside his mother, Nicky. I think the wee fellow might not be in quite the right position and that’s making it hard for him to be born.’
‘Will it hurt?’
‘The mare? It might make her a bit uncomfortable but we need to help her so she can push her baby out.’
‘What can I do?’ asked Matt softly, as she dosed one of his gauze pads with the alcohol solution.
‘I’ll get you to hold her tail away for me.’ She knelt at the mare’s straining haunches and Matt crouched beside her. Frosty dampness from the grass seeped through the denim of her jeans, chilling her skin as she waited for a contraction to pass.
With one hand braced on the mare’s rump, she threaded her other hand beneath the spindly front legs as the foal’s nose slipped back. She felt the knobbly knees, the bones of the mare’s pelvis and then…the problem. Another pair of hooves. The hind legs were engaged. They needed to be manoeuvred back down the birth canal before the forequarters could slip free.
A long contraction gripped her arm in a punishing hot vice. Caitlin closed her eyes and breathed through the pain. As soon as the muscles released