“She’s down, Tory. You need to come now.” Trotting toward them, Jessica skidded to a stop. “Oh. Uh, hi, Leah.”
Tory pulled back from the kiss, her gaze still locked with Leah’s.
“You guys, hurry.” Jessica turned back toward Long Shot’s stall and nearly collided with Skyler as she stepped into the hallway, holding a wet cloth to her cheek. “What happened to your face?”
Skyler glared at Tory and Leah. “Apparently the two of them had an argument, so Tory sucker-punched me and her pushy girlfriend knocked me down. I can’t find an ice pack.”
Jessica dutifully inspected Skyler’s face. “Oh, honey. That doesn’t look good.” She gave Tory a reproachful look. “You take care of the mare. I’ll take care of slugger.”
Tory grabbed Leah’s hand and tugged her down the hallway.
“Where are we going?”
“Long Shot is foaling.”
*
Tory took a quick look at the mare lying on the floor of the stall with one hoof and a nose crowning the vulva, and turned to the bucket to wash and lube her arm again.
“One of the forelegs may be rotated back. I need to bring it forward for her to deliver. That’s what I was trying to do when she slammed me against the wall. I need you to keep her calm.”
Leah squatted next to Long Shot’s head and spoke softly. The little mare grunted with another contraction, but her ears flicked toward Leah’s voice.
Tory slid her hand in the birth canal again, in search of the errant foot. She felt her way down the foal’s neck, groaning when another contraction clamped down hard on her arm. The leg she sought was curled against the beginning of the canal, so she pushed back on the small chest. The slender leg unfurled and she pulled the tiny hoof forward. It finally lay alongside the first leg, and she gathered both in her hand and waited for the mare to push. When the contraction began, she gently pulled the foal forward. Moments later, a small black colt with a large white star on his forehead lay in the straw, taking his first breaths.
“He’s beautiful,” Leah crooned to Long Shot. “He’s so beautiful. You did good, sugar.”
Tory heaved a sigh of relief.
Long Shot struggled to her feet and turned to sniff her colt as he gathered his long, spindly legs under him in an effort to stand.
Tory washed her arm clean and Leah went to her, picking up a clean towel to dry her and then wipe the remaining mud and blood from her face.
“I can do that,” Tory said. But she readily submitted. She braced her back against the wall and pulled Leah to her. Leah’s mouth was warm and sweet.
“I love you,” she said, relishing the words as she spoke them.
Leah’s gaze was soft, her answer like sun-warmed honey soaking into Tory’s soul. “I love you, sugar. So very much.”
Tory hugged her and turned so they could watch together as Long Shot nudged her colt to his feet. Instinct led his first jerky steps toward mother’s milk, and he poked at her side until his inquisitive nose slid under her belly and his eager mouth latched on to a teat.
Tory rested her cheek against the top of Leah’s head. It had been an emotionally draining day, but she’d do it again and again if the outcome would always be Leah nestled securely in her arms.
His belly finally full and his confidence in his legs growing, the colt began to explore his surroundings. Because the Chincoteague ponies shared the wide forehead and small ears of the Welsh breed, his dark coloring made him a near double for Nighty. Tory rubbed her hands in comforting strokes along Leah’s back. She was so quiet, Tory wondered if she also was thinking about Nighty. “What should we name him?” she asked.
Leah pulled back and reached up, her hand warm against Tory’s face, the brief caress of her lips soft against Tory’s. “Exactly what popped into my mind when I finally came to my senses and decided to gamble on a lifetime with you.”
Something tugged at Tory’s jeans, and they both looked down to see the colt curiously mouthing the material of her pants. Leah laughed. “Let me introduce you to Sure Thing.”