“In case there’s an emergency.”
“Wouldn’t you need a vet?”
“Not always. I’ve done this long enough to be able to handle most things.”
I rested my head on his shoulder. “You’re so smart.”
“Not really, but experience teaches wisdom.”
We didn’t speak again. There was no need for words as we watched the horse strain and shudder. Her sides heaved as she pushed, then rested. Gray got up to check that she was okay, then returned to my side.
“It won’t be long now.”
“Should you help deliver the foal?”
“For the most part, we don’t need to interfere. It’s best to observe and give her space for her body to do what is natural. I’ll give a helping hand if it’s needed.”
“I’ve never seen anything give birth in my life,” I said. “Sounds terrifying.”
Gray chuckled, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Well, you’re in for quite the experience, then. There’s nothing quite like it. It’s brutal and messy, but also… it’s pure magic. I’ve seen hundreds of births, and it never gets old.”
Gray’s fingers never left mine, their warmth a soothing balm against the tension filling me as I waited for the struggling horse to bring new life into the world. It was hard to watch her pain. It felt cruel for her to have to do it alone, but I trusted Gray that staying away was best.
The mare’s efforts intensified, her body straining with the primal force of birth. Gray’s calm presence kept me grounded as I watched in awe as the foal made its appearance.
Gray moved quietly for such a big man. He whispered to the horse while he gently ruptured the amniotic sac, and there it was—a tiny, wet foal blinking in the moonlight.
“It’s a boy,” Gray whispered, his voice filled with awe.
The foal lay still for a heartbeat, then gave a small, shuddering breath. The mare turned her head to nuzzle him, her soft nickers of encouragement filling the night air.
I watched in silent wonder, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. The scene before me was nothing short of miraculous, a testament to the raw beauty of life. I understood why Gray never got tired of it.
“Wow,” I whispered when he sat next to me. “That was… incredible. Thank you for letting me be a part of this.”
“Do you mind waiting a while longer?”
“No, I’m so comfortable I could fall asleep right here.” I raised my head to the sky, gazing at the velvet blackness sprinkled with stars for as far as the eye could see. “I can’t get over how beautiful it is here.”
“Not as beautiful as you.”
Gray was staring directly at me, and my heart leaped. “You’re a sweet talker, Gray Magnuson. No wonder I fell for you.”
Should I feel so happy, even though I’d betrayed my fiancé in the worst way possible? Perhaps I should have felt a smidge of guilt, but I had none. Not when this man looked at me with such love in his eyes.
The umbilical cord didn’t fall off like he’d said, and he called me over to watch him break it by hand. Being even closer to the mare and her newborn was a privilege I didn’t take for granted. I made sure not to distract the mare or interfere with their bonding.
With a firm hand, Gray held the cord on either side about an inch away from the foal’s abdomen, then twisted and pulled, causing it to separate. He applied pressure to the stump with his fingers to stem the bleeding, which wasn’t as much as I thought it would be.
When the job was done, Gray grimaced. “Like I said, it can be messy.”
“But necessary.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the sweet foal with its delicate snout and big brown eyes. It wasn’t long before the newborn attempted to take its first steps, legs wobbly, its body unfamiliar with the concept of movement. The foal stumbled, fell, got back up, and tried again.
Each time it fell, the mare was there, watching over the newborn. After a few tries, the foal stood long enough to take a step or two, but then he clumsily collapsed back onto its belly.
I grabbed Gray’s shirt, barely containing my hushed squeals. “He did it! Did you see that, Gray? He took his first steps, and I got to see it.”
When Gray didn’t respond, I glanced up. He was staring at me again. “What?”
