I’ve got Glenna on the phone in one hand while I yank clothing out of my drawers.
“Got it. First flight to Calgary, any class. Are you sure, Aura? You can’t travel economy. People will recognize you.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll wear a hat. Get me on the next flight and send a driver over now to take me to the airport.”
“Whatever you say.”
I call Sav next.
“I’m not going to be on the flight with you. I’m heading out early.” I hop around on one foot, yanking a pair of leggings up one-handed.
“But our flight goes out this afternoon. You can’t wait?”
“Nope. There’s an emergency. I need to get back.”
“What’s wrong?” A deep male voice murmurs beside her, and she shushes him.
“I’m not sure. But Quint needs me, so I’m going. I’ll see you later.”
“You’re not sure…okay, then. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be there soon. Safe travels.”
“You too.”
I hang up the phone, tossing it on my bed to pull on a white T-shirt and a baggy blue hoodie. Yanking my hair into a tight ponytail, I grab my purse, a baseball cap, and my passport and head for the front door, pacing while I wait for the driver to pull up.
Chapter 32
Quint
Mysecondflightinas many days is nothing like the first. Frantic, running to catch the plane. I’m out of breath as I slide into my seat, and the panic doesn’t settle for the entire plane ride.
When I finally arrive back at the ranch, the sun is already shining, I throw my truck in park and leap out beside the vet’s truck. The breeding barn is bustling with activity. Caleb, Shayla, Doc Val, and a handful of ranch workers are all milling about.
Shayla’s eyes are red, her hair is a mess, and she’s still wearing flannel pajama pants with horseshoes scattered over them.
Chipper was my first foal. All of us kids got one foal when we turned thirteen to care for, raise, train. The entire process was ours, from foaling to saddle training. It was to teach us responsibility, but Mom always said it wasalso to teach us how important it is to care for another creature.
So Chipper is basically an extension of me. And while she had a short barrel career with Shayla, we retired her to the breeding program after an injury to her hock. This seemed like the best thing for her. She loves being a mom. She’s had one beautiful foal already, who is shaping up to be a barrel star. But as I look over the stall door to see her standing there, hooked up to an IV with her head low and a bandage wrapped around her abdomen, a wave of guilt fills me. I should have been here.
The stall has been draped in sterile drapes and there’s a tarp on the floor.
I wrap my arms around my sister. “What happened?”
Shayla buries her head in my chest. “She seemed okay at first, but it was taking too long. It seemed like she was in more pain than she should be, so we called Val in.”
Caleb steps over to us. “The filly was positioned wrong. We all tried to help, but time was running out. The doc tried to reposition her but couldn’t. A C-section was the last resort when we were out of time and other options. There wouldn’t have been time to get her to the closest hospital. Both Chipper and the foal would have been at risk.”
I pull away from my sister, wanting to take a look at my girl.
Doc Val steps out of the stall. “Please tell me she’s going to be okay?” I ask the vet.
“She’s stable right now.” I want to hope, but the look on her face advises caution. “But performing a C-sectionoutside of a clinic carries a lot of risks. There’s still a risk of infection, she could reopen her wound or twist something up. So as of right now, she’s doing good. But you’re going to have to keep a close eye on her over the next few days. The next couple of weeks. She can get through this, but there are no guarantees.”
This is not how I was planning on this weekend ending, and it’s all too much. Finally getting some sort of hope with Aura, only to get brought back for this. My chest aches and my head is fuzzy.
“What about her foal?” I brace myself for the worst, but Caleb gives me a tired smile.
“She’s doing good. Going to be a bruiser,” he says.
