Texas True by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online

foal wasn’t born within that time frame, it was a sign of trouble. Both the foal’s life and the mare’s could be in danger. No wonder Natalie had come roaring up the ranch lane like it was a highway, in an attempt to shorten the precious moments being lost.
    Natalie offered no comment. She was too intent on working the unborn foal farther back into the birth canal so she could maneuver its front legs into the proper position.
    â€œGot one.” Her low mutter of victory quickened Beau’s pulse. He held his breath as she went deeper, working to unbend the other leg and pull both feet into position. Seconds crawled past.
    â€œDone!” She stumbled backward, catching her balance. Beau began to breathe again. “Turn her loose, Sky. Let’s hope she can finish this by herself.”
    Working swiftly, Sky unfastened the hobbles, freed the rope, and stood back to give the mare plenty of room. Glancing to his right, Beau saw that Will had come in to watch with the others.
    Horses most often gave birth on their sides, but Lupita didn’t take the time to lie down. Bracing her hind legs apart, she strained once. Muscles rippled as her foal slid into the world and dropped to the soft, clean straw.
    Will gave a whoosh of relief. Jasper was laughing and cheering. But Beau’s eyes were on Natalie. She was staring at the foal.
    â€œSomething’s wrong,” she said. “It’s not breathing.”
    In a flash she was bending over the newborn foal, extending its head and clearing the membranes from its nostrils. With a clean towel, she began rubbing the little body, almost roughly. “Come on . . . ,” she murmured, tickling the foal’s nose with a piece of straw. “Come on, breathe . . .”
    There was a little sputter, then a cough as the baby sucked in its first breath of air and began to stir. Natalie sank back onto her heels, her head sagging, her shoulders slumping for a moment before she checked the foal again. “Congratulations, Lupita,” she said, grinning. “You’ve got a fine boy!”
    The mare had shifted toward her baby and begun licking him clean. Behind her, Sky was busy tying up the long umbilical cord. It had been severed, as it should be, when the foal dropped, but until the mare passed the placenta, the trailing end had to be kept clear of her hooves.
    Alert now, the foal raised his head. With the membranes cleared away, his true color could be seen in the shadowy stall. Natalie noticed it first. “Oh . . .” she breathed. “For heaven’s sake, will you look at that?”
    Beau gave a low whistle as his eyes caught the gleam of a brilliant golden coat and the damp threads of a creamy mane. “Unbelievable,” he murmured, and it almost was. A random mix of recessive genes from the foal’s buckskin dam and chestnut sire had produced the rarest of colors. The tiny foal was a palomino, the first in memory on the ranch.
    As if to make up for his rough entry into the world, the little fellow was already struggling to stand. He worked his rear up onto his impossibly long hind legs, toppled into the straw, and promptly tried again. The third time, with nuzzling encouragement from his mother, he made it. Wide-eyed and quivering, he stood for the first time, gleaming like a little piece of the sun.
    Sky glanced back at Will. “Now you can get Erin.”
    But Will had no sooner turned to go than Erin burst into the barn. Still in her pajamas, fuzzy slippers, and flannel robe, she’d evidently seen the lights from across the yard and discovered that her father was missing from the house.
    â€œIs it born?” She was out of breath, her long hair tangled from sleep. “Is my foal here?”
    Erin pushed forward past the watchers. Natalie had stripped off her gloves and moved back to stand near Beau. Only Sky remained in the stall with the mare and foal. Straightening, he turned and gave her a rare smile.