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Balanced on his elbows, he held her face between his hands and stared down at her flushed, sweat-dampened face. “I love you, Cass,” he admitted, his eyes burning bright with passion. “I always have.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. His buttocks flexed, and he entered her, thrusting long and hard into the aching emptiness only he could ever fill.
Cassie’s breath escaped in a rush. As he moved, she moved, too, her body responding to his rhythm, her mind void of all but this one, virile man.
“Cassie, oh, love,” he whispered over and over as his tempo quickened, his thrusts driving deeper.
Blood thundered through her head, and brilliant sparks of gold and red flashed in her eyes. She convulsed, her nails biting into his back.
“I can’t—hold back . . .” And he didn’t. In a powerful explosion that was answered only by her own, he fell on her, his muscles straining, his voice crying out her name lustily.
Collapsing on her, his heart thudding as wildly as her own, Colton held her close. The edge of his hairline was damp, his breathing hard and fast.
Cassie wound her arms and legs around him, wishing she never had to let him go—and knowing that she would. Colton McLean wasn’t a man to be tied down, and she wasn’t fool enough to think she would change him. She fought a losing battle with tears and kissed him over and over again—afraid she’d never get another chance.
Chapter Eleven
Cassie had nearly fallen asleep when she felt Colton’s muscles tense. Instinctively she clung to him. “Mmm. What’s wrong?” she murmured, then stretched languidly.
“Nothing,” he whispered, kissing her crown and levering up on one elbow. The barn was dark, but even so, she knew he was squinting, listening.
She heard it, too. A horse’s low painful moan. Tessa’s mare! Red Wing! Instantly awake, she scrambled into her clothes, shook the straw from her hair and fumbled for the light switch. Colton found it first, snapping it on. Harsh illumination flooded the huge room, accompanied by the nickers, snorts and whinnies of the other horses.
Tucking her sweater into the band of her skirt, Cassie hurried to Red Wing’s stall. Inside, the mare was laboring, her breathing rapid, her eyes wide. Cassie reached for the latch of the stall gate.
Red Wing’s water broke in a gush, filling the air with the scent of birthing.
Here we go, Cassie thought, her hands on the gate. If Red Wing could deliver alone, Cassie wouldn’t offer any help. “Calm down, girl.”
But Red Wing, her ears flicking nervously, eyes bulging and sweat darkening her coat, moved nervously. Veins stood out beneath her glossy hide. She shuddered with the next contraction.
“Come on, Red Wing, easy now,
” Cassie coaxed. Still, Red Wing paced restlessly. Cassie felt Colton beside her. “I’ll need clean towels, water and iodine,” she said softly as Red Wing moaned again. Cassie opened the gate and slipped into the stall. Gently, careful of Red Wing’s shifting hindquarters, Cassie examined her. “Steady, girl.” Part of the amniotic sac was visible, and gently, Cassie probed at the big white balloon. She found the foal’s nose and one foot. Only one. Not good.
“Here you go,” Colton said softly, hauling the towels and water bucket into the stall.
“I’ll need your help.”
“Problems?”
“One foot is twisted back on itself,” she said, trying to keep the worry from her voice. “This way it won’t fit through the birth canal. We’ll have to push the foal back in, straighten the leg and then help it out.”
Colton rolled up his sleeves. “Just tell me what to do.”
Gently, so as not to break the umbilical cord or the sac, Cassie nudged the foal backward, then eased the bent foot forward. The entire procedure took only a few minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. Fortunately Red Wing didn’t lash out with teeth or hooves.
“Okay, now . . .” She guided Colton’s hand. “Now, when the mare contracts again, pull down, gently of course, to help the foal out.”
He glanced her way. “Got it.” The next contraction ripped through the mare a second later, and both Cassie and Colton tugged on the tiny legs until the feet and head were free. An instant later Red Wing moaned painfully, and another contraction pushed the foal’s shoulders through. Once the shoulders were out, the rest of the foal slid to the floor in a rush of birthing fluid.
The umbilical cord broke. Cassie quickly ripped open the sac and cleaned out the colt’s nose. “Come on, breathe,” she whispered, trying to infuse life into the tiny horse.
As Red Wing hadn’t yet claimed her foal by licking it, Colton grabbed a towel and began rubbing its wet sides. The little horse’s eyelids and lips were blue. “Come on, come on,” Cassie begged, waiting for the colt to breathe as she slipped her hand beneath its nose and felt the first warm rush of breath from its lungs. The foal’s small ribs expanded, its huge eyes blinked open curiously, and Cassie wanted to shout with joy. “Isn’t he beautiful?” she cried, reaching for the iodine and dousing the colt’s umbilical stump.
Red Wing snorted, eyeing the dark, straw-flecked, spindly legged bundle.
“Watch out,” Cassie warned. Colton jumped before Red Wing’s teeth found his back. “I think Mama wants to take over.”
