Wesley inhaled deeply and started to walk backward, slowly dragging the baby horse with him. It took all his strength not to let go of the slippery legs, and all his gentleness not to grip them so hard they cracked in his hands. After one last tug, the foal’s head came out, along with several gallons of fluid and afterbirth.
Dr. Fischer and his father swooped in quickly with needles and towels. They hovered around the foal while Wesley saw to Nora and Track Beauty.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Nora asked as Wesley toweled his arms off.
“A little gross but not terrible.”
“Gross? Don’t listen to him, gorgeous. You have a lovely vagina, and I’m sure if you do your Kegels, you’ll get your post-baby muscle tone back.”
Wesley couldn’t resist leaning forward and kissing Nora even as his father watched in disapproval. But the disapproval disappeared off his father’s face when the foal started squirming in his first attempt to stand.
“Wow. They walk fast.” Nora giggled as the foal stood up and went down again immediately. Giggled? Nora Sutherlin giggled? Wesley couldn’t believe it. He’d heard her laugh a thousand times, but never had he heard her giggle so girlishly and with such childlike delight. But the foal’s attempts to stand were hilarious and pitiful at the same time.
“That’s a boy there,” Wesley’s father said as the foal finally made it to all four feet and stayed there. He stood by the newborn and ran his hand up and down his coat, checking him for imperfections. With Track Beauty as the broodmare and Farewell to Charms as the sire, there would be no imperfections to be found. “Wonder what to name this guy…”
“Nora should name him, since she was here for it. All Rails horses are named by women. It’s good luck.”
“Well, I’ve named a lot of characters,” she said. “And that guy looks like a character.”
Wesley and Nora watched as the foal took his first tentative steps. Forward two…back one…and back one more…
Wesley’s father released a slight oath and a grunt of pain as the foal stepped right onto his toe.
“Wonderful. He steps on feet.” The older man laughed and patted the baby on his tiny head.
“Well, we know what to name him, then,” Nora said, grinning at Wesley. That smile took him back to the first day they’d gone horseback riding together. Wesley had picked a big sorrel stallion named Bastinado. Wesley had thought nothing of the exotic name until Nora had asked if the horse had a habit of stepping on feet. The stable girl replied that he did, and Nora had explained that Bastinado was a fancy term for foot torture.
“Bastinado it is,” Wesley said. “Pretty damn sure that’s not in the registry.”
Nora crawled over to the foal and stroked his face. Wesley hadn’t seen a chestnut foal that cute and small in a long time. Farewell to Charms had been a little guy, too, and then had sprouted up into the longest-legged monster horse he’d ever seen.
“I love him. I’m going to keep him.” Nora kissed the horse on his nose. “In my house. It’s a big bed. He can fit.”
“Madam, that horse is worth—” Wesley’s father began.
“Dad. Joking. Nora is joking.”
“She jokes an awful lot. She ever say anything she means?”
“No,” Nora said, winking at Wesley. “And I really mean that.”
“I don’t find you particularly amusing, young lady.” Wesley’s dad glared at her.
“I don’t care if you love me or hate me. You called me ‘young lady’ and that makes you my new favorite person.”
Wesley watched his father’s face tighten with anger before he exhaled and shook his head. “How’s our girl doing, Fisch?”
Nora scooted over to Bastinado and continued rubbing him down as Dr. Fischer and his father gave the mare a once-over followed by a twice-over. Wes and Nora kept their attention on little Bastinado as he sorted out how his legs worked. Nora even found a riding crop somewhere and teased Bastinado with it as if he were a kitten and not a million-dollar Thoroughbred.
They watched for several hours, laughing at his progress, wincing at his falls, encouraging him to stand back up again when he went down into the hay.
“Poor little guy…” Nora cooed as she peeled hay off his coat. “I know it’s hard. You get enough wine in me and I can’t walk very well, either.”
Bastinado pushed his nose into her hand and Wesley could only watch them. He’d seen Nora with children on a few occasions. She was so good with them, teasing them and talking to them like adults, giving them her full attention as if no one else in the world existed but them. She was just as good with Bastinado. Something in Wesley ached at the soft, motherly tone of her voice, the radiant smile on her face.
He couldn’t help but let his mind wander into dangerous territory. Nora would look so beautiful pregnant. She’d bitch and moan the entire time about her swollen ankles and sore br**sts, and yet he knew no woman in the world would make a better mother. How endlessly patient she’d been with him as a teacher, how loving and protective she’d been as a roommate. How she managed to find him in the hospital after his diabetic ketoacidosis scare still baffled him. With a child of her own, of their own, he knew she’d be ten times as diligent, as protective, as concerned. And God, to see her hold a baby in her arms? He’d sell the whole Railey empire on eBay if he had to for that. He might even sell his soul.
Dr. Fischer and his father swooped in quickly with needles and towels. They hovered around the foal while Wesley saw to Nora and Track Beauty.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Nora asked as Wesley toweled his arms off.
“A little gross but not terrible.”
“Gross? Don’t listen to him, gorgeous. You have a lovely vagina, and I’m sure if you do your Kegels, you’ll get your post-baby muscle tone back.”
Wesley couldn’t resist leaning forward and kissing Nora even as his father watched in disapproval. But the disapproval disappeared off his father’s face when the foal started squirming in his first attempt to stand.
“Wow. They walk fast.” Nora giggled as the foal stood up and went down again immediately. Giggled? Nora Sutherlin giggled? Wesley couldn’t believe it. He’d heard her laugh a thousand times, but never had he heard her giggle so girlishly and with such childlike delight. But the foal’s attempts to stand were hilarious and pitiful at the same time.
“That’s a boy there,” Wesley’s father said as the foal finally made it to all four feet and stayed there. He stood by the newborn and ran his hand up and down his coat, checking him for imperfections. With Track Beauty as the broodmare and Farewell to Charms as the sire, there would be no imperfections to be found. “Wonder what to name this guy…”
“Nora should name him, since she was here for it. All Rails horses are named by women. It’s good luck.”
“Well, I’ve named a lot of characters,” she said. “And that guy looks like a character.”
Wesley and Nora watched as the foal took his first tentative steps. Forward two…back one…and back one more…
Wesley’s father released a slight oath and a grunt of pain as the foal stepped right onto his toe.
“Wonderful. He steps on feet.” The older man laughed and patted the baby on his tiny head.
“Well, we know what to name him, then,” Nora said, grinning at Wesley. That smile took him back to the first day they’d gone horseback riding together. Wesley had picked a big sorrel stallion named Bastinado. Wesley had thought nothing of the exotic name until Nora had asked if the horse had a habit of stepping on feet. The stable girl replied that he did, and Nora had explained that Bastinado was a fancy term for foot torture.
“Bastinado it is,” Wesley said. “Pretty damn sure that’s not in the registry.”
Nora crawled over to the foal and stroked his face. Wesley hadn’t seen a chestnut foal that cute and small in a long time. Farewell to Charms had been a little guy, too, and then had sprouted up into the longest-legged monster horse he’d ever seen.
“I love him. I’m going to keep him.” Nora kissed the horse on his nose. “In my house. It’s a big bed. He can fit.”
“Madam, that horse is worth—” Wesley’s father began.
“Dad. Joking. Nora is joking.”
“She jokes an awful lot. She ever say anything she means?”
“No,” Nora said, winking at Wesley. “And I really mean that.”
“I don’t find you particularly amusing, young lady.” Wesley’s dad glared at her.
“I don’t care if you love me or hate me. You called me ‘young lady’ and that makes you my new favorite person.”
Wesley watched his father’s face tighten with anger before he exhaled and shook his head. “How’s our girl doing, Fisch?”
Nora scooted over to Bastinado and continued rubbing him down as Dr. Fischer and his father gave the mare a once-over followed by a twice-over. Wes and Nora kept their attention on little Bastinado as he sorted out how his legs worked. Nora even found a riding crop somewhere and teased Bastinado with it as if he were a kitten and not a million-dollar Thoroughbred.
They watched for several hours, laughing at his progress, wincing at his falls, encouraging him to stand back up again when he went down into the hay.
“Poor little guy…” Nora cooed as she peeled hay off his coat. “I know it’s hard. You get enough wine in me and I can’t walk very well, either.”
Bastinado pushed his nose into her hand and Wesley could only watch them. He’d seen Nora with children on a few occasions. She was so good with them, teasing them and talking to them like adults, giving them her full attention as if no one else in the world existed but them. She was just as good with Bastinado. Something in Wesley ached at the soft, motherly tone of her voice, the radiant smile on her face.
He couldn’t help but let his mind wander into dangerous territory. Nora would look so beautiful pregnant. She’d bitch and moan the entire time about her swollen ankles and sore br**sts, and yet he knew no woman in the world would make a better mother. How endlessly patient she’d been with him as a teacher, how loving and protective she’d been as a roommate. How she managed to find him in the hospital after his diabetic ketoacidosis scare still baffled him. With a child of her own, of their own, he knew she’d be ten times as diligent, as protective, as concerned. And God, to see her hold a baby in her arms? He’d sell the whole Railey empire on eBay if he had to for that. He might even sell his soul.
