Page 17 of Don't Trust the Cowboy

“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”

“Yeah, well, I’d sooner the town knows than mama and daddy, and I don’t see the difference, anyway. They muddy my name up to everyone, anyway.”

“That’s not true, man, and you know it.”

“Bullshit. And I’m not getting into it. Later.” I say, hanging up. I’m done with this shit. I’m tired and pissed off, and I’ve had enough. After I get out of my truck, I head back into the house, take a shower, and get into bed. Sleep doesn’t come for a while, and it might as well not, since I hear Mazy whinnying a few hours later. It’s an odd sound, and I know instantly that she’s gone into labor. As I trot outside, after throwing my jeans on and pulling my boots back on, I see her lying on her side in the well-stacked stall. I’ve been keeping it cleaned with fresh straw daily, for when she goes into calf.

But what I don’t expect to see is the extra piece of bedding off to the side. While Mazy is in here having a baby, it seems that Piper has made herself a bed inside the stall. She wakes when she hears Mazy whinny once more. “What...what the hell are you doing here?” I ask, half my attention on Piper, the other half on Mazy, who appears, at first glance, to be doing just fine.

Piper darts up, half clothed, wearing some tiny t-shirt and nothing else. “Oh my God, is she okay?” She asks, seemingly ignoring my question. “Do you...do you need to call the vet?” Her voice is laced with concern. I think I might even see a tear pooling in her eye.

“No, she’s fine. The foal is about to be born anytime.” I tell her, trying to avert my gaze from her very obvious nipples sticking out under the white t-shirt.

“Are you sure? Is she supposed to be lying on her side?” She asks, kneeling, completely oblivious to the fact that I can see her fine ass and a little bit of hair poking out from under the shirt at the crest between her legs.

“Yes, that’s how horses give birth. She’s just fine.” I close my eyes, mentally cracking the whip on my cock, that wants to sit up for attention in a way that it hasn’t in a very long time, which isn’t that difficult, considering I have a pregnant mare on my barn floor. “Can you please...cover yourself?”

With a gasp, she rises quickly, covering her mouth, embarrassed as all getgo, and runs over to the pile of her clothes next to her sleeping bag in the straw. She pulls her jeans on as I turn my head, all attention on Mazy, and she returns to my side. Her nipples are still plain as day but with Mazy’s foal on its way out, it’s easy not to look there. Within minutes, the foal is out, and Mazy is tending to her. Piper watches with awe as I talk Mazy through it, patting her snout and whispering gently to her, while this foal is born.

“Is it a girl?” Piper asks, a tear forming in her eye.

“Yes.” I smile, as the little one lays on her side, staring up at us. “It’s a girl. Looks just like her mama.”

“She’s beautiful.” Piper licks her lips. “I’ve never seen anything be born before.”

“Yeah?” I ask, checking Mazy over.

“Never. And it wasn’t gross.”

I chuckle. “It’s a little gross, but this was a clean birth, very clean. Mazy did well.”

“She sure did. She did it all by herself.”

“That’s right. Looks like I had the vet set up for nothing. But it’s better to be safe than sorry. I’ll have him come over here and have a look at her tomorrow, but everything looks perfect.”

“What will you name her?”

I rake a hand through my hair. “Not sure. Mazy came with her name, mind. What do you reckon would be a good name?”

“Sprout.” She says with a smile. “I thought ‘Scout’, but that’s a boy’s name, I think.”

“Sprout.” I test on my tongue, and then I frown, impressed. “I like it. Sprout it is.”

“Are you sure?” She practically squeals. “I...I barely know you, and you’re going to let me name your horse?”

I shrug. “Well, why not? Mazy came with a name, and I didn’t have one in mind.” I lick my lips. “Besides, Sprout’s a fine name.”

Her smile is contagious. “Wow. Thank you.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I should be thankingyou.” I comment, forgetting that I found her squatting in my barn, next to my horse.

“I’m honored.” She says, patting Mazy, who is lying there, calm as anything, resting from giving birth. Little Scout is as cute as anything, sitting there, glancing at us, as if to say, ‘what’s up, guys?’.

“What do you say we let Mazy and Scout bond, hm? Horses generally like to be alone during this process.”

“Are you sure? We can leave her alone?”

I wave. “This is all part of nature, darlin’.” I look over at her things. “Now, why don’t you tell me what you were doing sleeping in the barn?”

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