“Let’s go see.” I nudged him and he all but sprinted out the door. I followed at a slower pace and when my gaze slid down to his denim-covered ass, I jerked the back up quickly. Christ, I needed to get my shit together. Because that was just unacceptable.
I could handle that.
An hour later, we had a filly on the ground. She was already on her feet, but Imelda Staunton had been quick to stand too. Dad raced down to check her out, and when he named her AngelaLansbury I knew she was staying with us. She had a star instead of a blaze, but otherwise looked just like her mama. We all stared at she took her wobbly first steps and nursed for the first time.
Imelda Staunton had gone back to eating.
I made sure to take plenty of pics for Bodhi, and video too, because he would want to see. I’d wait to send them until I was back at the house, since the Wi-Fi was better there. I didn’t want to be accused of not doing my duty. Bodhi would kick my ass next time we saw each other if I didn’t show plenty of proof that the mare and foal were doing fine.
Since Dad and Ennis were staying with them, and the vet wouldn’t be here until the next day to check the placenta and give Angela Lansbury a good looking over, there was nothing left for me and Mal to do. I walked with him toward the house so he could pick up his kid.
“That never gets old,” Mal murmured, a touch of wonder in his voice.
“Nope,” I agreed. “It’s always a miracle.”
Mal was quiet for a few seconds and then he shook his head. There was a healthy dose of amusement in his tone when he said, “The British actress thing is strange though. Well, not that so much as always using the full name.”
“Dads are weird,” I said, laughing too. Then I realized what I said, “Uh, not that you’re weird. I mean—It’s just—.”
Mal waved it off. “Nah, I’m weird. Pay certainly thinks so. It’s a compliment, because in my experience, the weird dads are the good dads.”
There was something in his tone, an edge of hurt, that made me ask. “Your dad wasn’t, uh, weird?”
“Nope.” There was a finality to it that clearly put an end to the conversation.
I led the way up onto the porch, then held the door for Mal to go in first. I’d barely made it in myself and Mom was right there, eyes bright and a little teary.
“What is it? Is it as perfect as it looks?”
I smiled, looked my mom right in the eye, and said, “Dad named her Angela Lansbury.”
She squealed, but cut herself off in a second, whipping her head toward the living room. Pay was sprawled out, one leg up against the back of the couch, one arm hanging off the cushion. Mr. Raven was clutched tightly in the other hand. As we watched, the little boy let out a snore far too big for his tiny body.
“Crap,” Mal whispered, heading for his kid. “He must be getting a cold. That’s the only time he snores like that.”
“Mal,” Mom called softly. “You can bring him to me even if he’s sick, okay?”
I added, “And if you need to take a day or two, just let us know.”
A complicated set of emotions passed over his face. I spotted disbelief and stubbornness, but relief too. After a few seconds, he just nodded and scooped Pay up. The boy flopped like a sack of potatoes, deadweight in his father’s arms. When Mal rubbed his back, Pay snuggled right in, turning his head to tuck his face against Mal’s neck.
“Thanks so much for watching him, Jenn. I really appreciate the extra time. I’m glad I got to be a part of tonight.” Mal kept his voice soft, but the sincerity was clear. He tried for a smile, but it wasn’t his real one, because it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure Pay will be fine. He’s usually not grumpy when he’s sick. He handles it like a champ.”
“The offers stand,” Mom simply said.
“Thanks,” Mal repeated. “I better get him home. See you tomorrow.”
He headed out. I looked at Mom. She looked at me. Mom grabbed the fleece throw from the back of the couch and tossed it at me. I caught it without a word and raced out to catch Mal.
The property was well lit, and since people were up and moving around because of the foaling, we’d overridden the timers on the main drive. But Mal whipped around and stepped back, probably unsure, and was half hidden in shadow. I made my steps even and slow, not wanting to spook him. His body relaxed when he realized it was me.
“Crew?” He whispered.
I held up the blanket, then draped it over Pay, tucking it in a little so it wouldn’t fall. “Wait here a minute.”
I waited for him to nod, then raced off to the shed behind the broodmare barn where we kept the machinery and farm vehicles. The cabins were a decent distance away. Not too far to walk, but it would be a trek with the weight of a sleeping child. Plus, Pay might be getting sick. And though it was no longer cold at night, it was still chilly enough that he shouldn’t be out in it for too long. Hence the blanket, and now the UTV.
Mal was standing where I left him, and when I pulled up in the UTV, he gave me his real smile. He eased into the seat, transferred Pay to the other shoulder so he was more in the middle and not by the open side, and then braced his now free hand on the roof. I pointed us toward the cabins, driving at a much slower pace than I normally would.
