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“No need for that, Missy,” Mac said with a kindly smile as he reached for the door handle on the old Dodge. “What Dustin said was the truth.”
“No, it wasn’t. Even with his regular jockey, there was no assurance that Moon Shadow would win.”
“He was the odds-on favorite.”
“And we all know how many long shots have won when it counted. Besides, it’s all water under the bridge now,” she assured him. “We’ll just pin our hopes on Journey’s End. And maybe this time, we’ll win the Derby.”
“I hope so,” Mac said, pursing his lips together thoughtfully as he studied the lush Northern California countryside that made up the pastures of Rhodes Breeding Farm. “It’s time you got a break.” He opened the door to the truck. “I’ll be back after dinner to check on Alexander’s Lady. My guess is she’ll foal around midnight.”
“See you then.” Tiffany stepped away from the old truck and Mac started the engine before shoving it into gear. Tiffany felt her teeth sink into her lower lip as she watched the battered old pickup rumble down the long driveway.
* * *
Three hours later Tiffany was in the foaling shed, watching, praying while the glistening chestnut mare labored. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat mingled with ammonia and antiseptic.
Vance and Mac were inside the stall with the horse while Tiffany and Dustin stood on the other side of the gate. Alexander’s Lady was lying on her side in the thick mat of straw, her swollen sides heaving with her efforts.
“Here we go,” Vance said as the mare’s abdomen contracted and the foal’s head and shoulders emerged. A few minutes later, the rest of the tiny body was lying beside the mare.
Vance worked quickly over the newborn, clearing the foal’s nose. As Tiffany watched she noticed the small ribs begin to move.
Tiffany reached for the switch that turned on the white heat lamps to keep the precious animal from catching cold.
“Let’s leave the lamps on for two or three days,” Vance suggested, his round face filled with relief as the filly tested her new legs and attempted to stand. “I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Neither do I,” Tiffany agreed, her heart warming at the sight of the struggling filly. She was a perfect dark bay, with only the hint of a white star on her forehead.
Tiffany slipped into the stall and began to rub the wet filly with a thick towel, to promote the filly’s circulation. At that moment, the mare snorted.
“I think it’s time for Mom to take over,” Vance suggested, as he carefully moved the foal to the mare’s head. Alexander’s Lady, while still lying on the straw, began to nuzzle and lick her new offspring.
“Atta girl,” Mac said with the hint of a smile. “’Bout time you showed some interest in the young-un.” He stepped out of the stall to let mother and daughter get acquainted.
Vance stayed in the stall, watching the foal with concerned eyes. He leaned against the wall, removed his glasses and began cleaning them with the tail of his coat, but his thoughtful gaze remained on the horses, and deep furrows lined his brow.
“Is she all right?” Tiffany asked, her heart beating irregularly. Such a beautiful filly. She couldn’t die!
“So far so good.” But his lips remained pressed together in an uneasy scowl as he attended to the mare. Alexander’s Lady groaned and stood up. She nickered softly to the filly.
As if on cue, the little newborn horse opened her eyes and tried futilely to stand.
“Come on, girl. You can do it,” Tiffany whispered in encouragement. The filly managed to stand on her spindly, unsteady legs before she fell back into the straw. “Come on . . .”
“Good lookin’ filly,” Mac decided as the little horse finally forced herself upright and managed the few steps to the mare’s side. “Nice straight front legs . . . good bone, like her dad.” Mac rubbed his hand over the stubble on his chin.
Tiffany’s heart swelled with pride.
“She looks fine,” Vance agreed as he watched the filly nuzzle the mare’s flanks and search for her first meal.
“So did Charlatan,” Tiffany reminded him, trying her best not to get her hopes up. The filly looked strong, but so had Felicity’s colt. And he had died. A lump formed in Tiffany’s throat. She couldn’t imagine that the beautiful little filly might not live through the night.
“Keep watch on her,” Vance stated, his lips thinning.
“Round the clock,” Tiffany agreed. “We’re not going to lose this one,” she vowed, oblivious to the worried glances being exchanged between the veterinarian and the trainer.
“What have you decided to name her?” Dustin asked, seemingly entranced by the healthy young horse.
“How about Survivor?” Tiffany replied. “Better yet, how about Shadow’s Survivor?”
