‘She was fine an hour ago. I’ve had Bill up here off and on this afternoon because she was a little unsettled, but nothing out of the ordinary. I just came up now to see her and she’s definitely edgy. It could be the weather—we can all smell the snow coming—but I think this might be it, Tom.’
‘I’m on my way.’
Holy heck. He wondered if this was what prospective fathers felt when their partners might be in labour. Excited, worried, useless.
By the time he made it up the mountain to Ironbark, the afternoon had deepened into evening. The stable lights were still on and he hurried over to the smaller one where Buttercup was housed.
The mare was down on her knees, blowing hard, making a noise like a foghorn with every breath out. He’d seen horses have foals before—hundreds of them—and maybe Buttercup was fine, but still. That sound of distress was giving him a bad feeling.
Lynette came round the corner with a bucket of water. ‘Oh, Tom, I was just about to call you. She’s been breathing funny the last five minutes. I was going to call the vet if I couldn’t reach you.’
He moved into the stall and laid his hand on the mare’s head. ‘Buttercup, hey, girl. Let’s get you some help, hey?’
He took his phone from his jacket pocket and punched in the quick dial number for Josh, who answered second ring.
‘Josh, I need you, man. Buttercup’s gone into labour and she’s taking it hard.’
‘I’m delivering a litter of pups down south of Crackenback. I’ve another hour here at least, then it’d take me over an hour to get to you.’
‘Shit.’
‘Have you called the clinic? I’m on call, but I’m busy. The service will switch through to Hannah. She was riding earlier with Kev but she’ll be home by now.’
‘No.’ There was a silence where all he could hear was Buttercup’s laboured breathing and the blood rushing in his ears.
Josh sighed. ‘You’ve got to call her, man. She’s an expert in foal delivery.’
‘I can send a helicopter for you.’ Could he? He was grasping at straws, that’s what he was doing. Who even owned a helicopter that they’d rent out with three seconds’ notice, anyway?
Josh’s snort carried all the derision his offer deserved. ‘Just because you’ve got a lot of money doesn’t mean the rest of us have to help you be a proud, insufferable jerk. I don’t care how many helicopters you send for me, I’m not leaving this dog—or her eleven-year-old owner—until I’ve got a row of pups snoozing in this whelping box I’m currently sitting in. Buttercup’s foal means a hell of a lot more than your fragile ego, mate, so call Hannah, damn it.’
Tom’s phone beeped as Josh ended the call.
If only it were his ego that had a piece of shrapnel about to sever it in two.
He started keying in Hannah’s mobile, then paused. If she saw his number come up, she’d dodge his call. No, this had to be official. He found Cody and Cody Vet Clinic in his contacts and waited while the call clicked through its answering service and on to Hannah’s mobile.
‘Cody and Cody, Hannah speaking.’
‘Buttercup’s in labour. She doesn’t sound good, Hannah. I’m worried.’
He knew her well enough to envisage her kicking something and swearing at Josh for having the gall to be busy so she was the one who had to deal with him.
‘I’m on my way. Is she on her feet?’
‘She’s on her knees.’
‘She may lie down and get up a few times, that’s normal, don’t try to stop it. I’m leaving now.’
‘Hannah?’ he said, but the phone had gone dead. ‘Drive safe,’ he muttered, then turned to his horse. ‘Did you hear that, Buttercup, my love? The vet’s on her way.’
CHAPTER
44
Why her? Why now? A thousand weekends on call, delivering labradors by C-section, rescuing piglets from bore pumps, even pulling a pissed-off cat from the depths of an old galvo water tank. She’d have traded a thousand more nights of disturbed sleep and poor pay for this one callout to Ironbark Station.
To top it off, Josh was already out on a job, so she’d have to take her car, which still had no freaking working heater. Why, oh why, had she not bought herself a new car when Kylie had told her to?