The Legend of the Bloodstone by E B Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

massaged it downward, but other than that, the horse did not stir. 
    Chetan bent over her shoulder, nodding encouragement at her work. The milk was slow to start, but then it suddenly began to rush in a st eady flow into the bladder skin, filling it quicker than she anticipated. 
    “We need another, Chetan, hurry!” she demanded , unwilling to risk losing even a few drops of the precious liquid. Chetan shouted to Makedewa, who snapped a curt reply, causing Chetan to groan in frustration. Teyas stepped forward, snatched the water bladder from Makedewa’s belt, and thrust it through the fence rail at Chetan. Teyas stood on the low rail and leaned over to watch, and Makedewa stalked off amid a growl of what she could only imagine was cursing.
    Chetan held the second bladder until it filled, and Maggie stopped milking.  He held up the bladder and cocked his head to the side like a perplexed puppy, obviously trying to figure out how they would get the milk into the foal.
    “I need a knife to cut a hole,” she said. He did not hesitate. He unsheathed a small dagger from the edge of his legging and handed it to her. Their eyes met for a moment, and Maggie was pleased at the trust in his gaze. They both grinned when she plucked a hole in the bottom of the first full bladder and watched the milk shoot out in a steady stream into her hand. She quickly pinched the hole closed and sat down beside the listless colt, which nickered softly at the scent of milk on her hands. He did not struggle when she placed his over large head in her lap, but seemed not to know what to do when she placed the make shift nipple in his mouth. The colt wrinkled his nose and sneezed.
    Teyas and Chetan exchanged and anxious glance.  Maggie refused to let the colt ignore the life saving nourishment, and squirted some of the warm fluid into her hand. She cupped her palm to the colt’s nose and fought as he tried to weakly pull away, and then suddenly either from exhaustion or her persistence, he stopped. 
    The colt stuck out his tongue and licked her hand.
    She quickly filled her palm again, and the colt licked it dry. She heard a weak nicker from the mare and smiled.
    “We’ll save your baby, momma,” she whispered to the dying mother. She knew it was her last breath. Maggie offered the bladder again to the colt, and he eagerly latched onto it and began to suck. She held the bladder against her breast and cradled the colt’s head in her lap, reaching out to scratch him gently along his mane.
    “The mother is gone,” another voice said. Winn knelt down beside her.
    “I know,” she said softly. She slowly raised her eyes to meet Winn’s gaze, relieved to see his face soft and his blue eyes shining. He looked quite handsome when he was happy, she thought.
    “You have soft hands. My young horse is lucky you care for him.”
    “Your horse?”
    “The mare was mine.  Thank you for helping this one.”
    His quiet stare held hers for a timeless moment, his brows shading the slits of his deep blue eyes as the corners of his mouth turned slightly up. She could tell neither if he was amused or just grateful, but the intensity caused her belly to do that strange tingling thing and she ducked her eyes downward in response.
    “I’ll stay and feed him.  He’ll need to eat several times tonight. And then we need a goat, or a cow, for more milk,” she stammered.  The colt began to slow his feeding, and she wiped a froth of milk from his whiskers with the edge of her dress. His lips dropped away, and his head felt heavy again in her lap as he lay satiated and began to snore. A sleepy musical whinny filled the silence.
    Winn glanced down and noticed the knife, which he plucked from the dirt and held out to his brother. “Chetan, your knife.”
    Maggie nearly forgot his brother stood beside them.  Chetan took the the knife, but his eyes met his brothers and they exchanged a stare she did not understand.  Chetan lifted his chin and held the knife out