Page 116 of Sunrise & Serenity

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” she says softly.

Chance just nods, his focus on the mare.

“Can you hold her?” he asks me. “I want to check the foal’s position.”

With a dip of my chin, I take my place next to her head, grasping her halter as Chance gloves up and applies lubricant.

“Front legs are in the right place,” he says. “Head’s a little off to the side. Not bad enough to panic yet.” He pulls his arm out and strips the glove off.

The mare shifts hard against my grip on her halter, sweat darkening the chestnut hair along her neck and heat rolling off her in waves. “You think she can do it herself?”

He watches her for another second, brows drawn together. “Maybe. It could straighten as she pushes. If it doesn’t, I’ll have to help it along.”

The mare stamps once, ears pinning, then pushes.

Nothing. Chance mutters a curse.

Breathing steadily, I rub my hand down her neck, gauging the way her muscles tremble. “Easy, girl.”

She settles, and Chance rests an elbow on the half door. “Knew there was a reason I called you. You always could calm the difficult ones.”

He glances at me. “Remember that gray mare Dad bought when we were kids? The one that tried to kill everybody during foaling season except for you?”

I chuckle. “You mean the one that tried to take your thumb off?”

“She did take my thumb off. Damn near, anyway.”

“Still attached last I checked.”

He flexes the offending thumb. “Barely.”

Sage smiles from the corner. Not forcing herself into the conversation, just enjoying ours.

Chance reaches for the thermos of coffee and pours a small amount into the lid cup, then hands it to Sage. “You sure you don’t mind being dragged into this?”

“Are you kidding?” She studies the mare. “This is incredible.”

Before Chance and I can have any coffee, the mare stamps once, and we straighten at the same time. Funny how some instincts never leave, even after all these years. Chance moves behind her while I take hold of her halter again.

She tosses her head up, but I keep my grip loose and steady, letting her move without fighting her.

Chance eyes Sage over his shoulder. “Would you grab those towels off the rail?”

She’s moving before the entire question is out, and when she hands them to him, he takes them with a distracted nod of thanks.

Her hair’s falling out of the loose ponytail she pulled it into as we drove here, dark strands framing her face. One sleeve of her shirt is shoved halfway up her arm, and sawdust clings to one knee of her jeans.

Back at the cabin, she reached for her camera before stopping herself. She hadn’t wanted to see this moment through a lens. She’d wanted to be part of it.

Chance shifts beside the mare, pulling my attention back to why we’re here. After checking the foal’s position again, he blows out a breath. “Head’s still a little off.”

“Worse?”

“Nah.” He strips off the glove and tosses it beside the first one. “But if she doesn’t get this foal moving soon, we’re gonna have problems.”

Sage’s eyes flick between us. “Could she die?”

“That’s why Doc’s on standby,” he says. “If she doesn’t start making progress soon, I’m calling him in.”