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Somehow, I know I will never, ever regret him being my first.
Crossing the bedroom to the window, I peer out into the darkness and see the light on in the barn. A shadow moving around. Unless the scarecrowactuallycame to life, that shadow has to belong to Dusty. I’ll just cross the pitch-black property and go see what’s keeping him.
Easy.
A moment later, I stand in the frame of the open front door, gulping. I can’t see anything in between the house and the barn. Monsters hide in this kind of darkness. But I’m finding myself…a little anxious without Dusty around. I miss him. It’s so weird, considering I only met him tonight, but his presence makes me feel safe and happy. Warm and wanted.
I want my farmer back.
With a deep breath for bravery, I step out into the cold darkness, my feet carrying me across what feels like a combination of dirt and grass toward the barn. As I grow more confident, I move faster, the frigid air feeling kind of nice on my flushed skin. At least, momentarily. Wow. The air smells socleanout here. The quiet is vast and soothing to my ears, nothing but crickets and wind. The opposite of the city. I would have assumed that total silence would unnerve me, but it doesn’t. I kind of love it.
Finally, I reach the light of the barn, stepping inside onto the soft straw floor. I stride in the direction of the shadow and find Dusty in a stall with a horse who seems to be restless, dancing around somewhat on its hind legs.
“Dusty?”
“Bianca.” His head whips in my direction, concern immediately etching itself into his brow. “You should be inside where it’s warm, darlin’.”
I lean my cheek against the frame of the stall entrance. “It’s warmer with you.”
His chest rises and falls. “I want nothing more than to be back in that bed with you, but my mare is in labor.” He looks me over and grunts. “Damn. Look at you in my shirt.”
“It’s huge,” I giggle.
“I’mhuge.”
I bite my lip. “I noticed.”
His swallow is loud enough to hear across the stall. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are hell on my concentration.”
“Sorry.” With a sly smile, I push away from the wooden post, venturing further into the stall, regarding the mare with wonder. I’ve never seen a horse up close like this. Only in movies. Or when the occasional police officer rides one in the St. Patrick’s Day parade. She is nothing short of majestic. “So, wow. She’s having a baby horse?”
His chest rumbles with mirth. “Yes. A baby horse.”
“Am I in the way or…can I do anything to help?”
“I want you warm in bed, Bianca.”
“Really, I can help.” For some reason, I want to be a part of this. Bringing an animal into the world. Helping this mare through this stressful time. More than anything, though, I want to be a part of this with Dusty. “Tell me what to do.”
He observes me for a moment, then leans down and kisses my forehead. “All right, city girl. There is a storage locker at the rear of the barn. Get me some clean bedding to put down on top of the straw. I think she’s looking for a place to lie down for a spell.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, jogging out of the stall to retrieve the bedding.
A couple of minutes later, I return with an armful of blankets, handing them off to my farmer. “Now, you stand back, darlin’. She might back up or roll over suddenly and I don’t want you getting crushed. I’m having heart palpitations just thinking about it.” He hands me one of the blankets I brought. “Wrap yourself in this. I don’t want you cold.”
I am quite happy to do what this man says. Unusual, to say the least. Normally, I don’t love being bossed around, but Dusty doesn’t boss me around because he’s on a power trip. He genuinely has my best interest at heart. Wrapped in the blanket, I move to the far corner of the stall and watch Dusty ease the mare down onto the bedding where she rolls around a little. As she does this, Dusty leaves the stall briefly and returns with a large, white cloth, wrapping it around the mare’s tail. And then she’s back on her feet, her sides heaving, nostrils flaring with great bursts of air.
When something moves out of the corner of my eye, I realize there’s a gray horse watching the proceedings from outside of the stall. “Is that the horse that came to the house?”
“Yes,” Dusty said, stroking the mare’s neck. “That’s Buggy, my stallion. He came to let me know that Lady was in labor.”
A crank turns in my chest. “Is that…normal?”
He shoots me a grin. “It’s normal on this farm.”
Another horse sticks his head into the stall directly above me, watching the mare with what appears to be quiet worry. “Is this a magical farm?”
“Some days I wonder if it might be.”
