Page 36 of Bad Decisions & Back Roads

She stepped past me, her hand closing warm and solid on my shoulder, anchoring me.“This is one of those things I’m good at.”

For the first time in the last thirty minutes, my lungs filled all the way.

The mare lurched back to her feet, sides heaving.

“I need you up front,” she said, already moving.“Keep her steady while I check her.”

I grabbed the halter, trying to ground the mare as Gia pressed in behind.She worked fast, efficient, listening first to her heart, then putting on the plastic sleeve and reaching in.

“Foal’s alive,” she announced.“Reactive.”A pause while she palpated the unborn foal.“Not positioned right.”

My grip on the lead line tightened.

“Head’s back.”She exhaled hard.“Give me a second.”

The mare shifted, muscles bunching under my hands.I murmured nonsense, anything to keep the horse calm, while behind me Gia pushed, adjusted, worked.

Minutes stretched out.This was taking too long.

Gia finally pulled back, bracing her hands on her knees.Her breaths came out rough.“Damn it.I was trying to avoid this.”

My stomach dropped.“Avoid what?”

“I’m going to try one more time.”She went back in.

The mare groaned, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated up through my arms.Another contraction hit.Gia swore under her breath.“These contractions are brutal,” she said, voice tight with strain.“Come on, girl.Relax for me.One more time.Just?—”

The mare fought it.

Gia stepped away, stripping the shoulder length sleeve off and headed for her bag of supplies.

Every worst-case scenario I’d been trying not to think about slammed forward.“Is she going to make it?”

She didn’t look at me, already drawing up an injection of something.“I’m giving her a relaxer.It’ll buy me time to get the foal’s head around.”

The needle slid in.We waited.Time dragged, thick and heavy.The mare’s breathing slowed, her body softening enough.

Gia moved back into position without hesitation.

I held on tighter, barely aware I was holding my own breath while she worked.Then?—

“Got it.”Gia stumbled back a step, something like triumph breaking through.

I didn’t accept it as victory yet.

The mare dropped.

“Easy, easy.There you go,” she coaxed, already guiding.“That’s it.Keep pushing.Here it comes.”The foal appeared, slick and fragile and impossibly small.

“Daddy!”The word cut through everything.

I pivoted, heart slamming, eyes locking on the tiny monitor screen—movement, small and alone—and then back to Gia, to the mare, to the foal halfway into the world.

My voice cracked.“My daughter’s up.I’ve got to go get her.”

“I’ve got this,” Gia said, not even looking up, steady as stone.

Everything in me split in two.“I’ll be back,” I said, already backing away.“I swear.Give me a few minutes.”