CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Amber~
She had meant to lie down and have a nap before she went back to the stable block. But by the time she had cleaned up after supper and spent a half hour on the phone with Heather, she no longer felt like she could fall asleep. She had settled for reading quietly until just before eleven.
At a quarter to, she washed her face and combed her hair. She was tempted to change into something more glamorous than her flannel work shirt and oldest jeans. Maybe put on some lipstick. But she had to guard against that. No matter how Lance had looked at her, no matter how he smelled, this was not a date. She had been invited to help oversee the birth of a foal, not to canoodle.
This was part of her job – probably the most important part. Healthy foals were a necessity on a stud. Of course, the foals the mares were giving birth to this spring were not of Laura’s breeding. The mares were carrying the foals that had been conceived when they had been bred last year. They would have been sent to a different stud, where they would have given birth to the previous year’s foals before being serviced.
For all that Laura seemed genuinely attached to her horses, the Bascom Quarter Horse Stud was a business. Laura bred and trained her horses for sale. Laura did breed her own stock, but Sissy was not one of her own mares. If Alberta’s Silver Scilla lost her foal, Laura’s reputation would suffer and so would her pocketbook.
Sissy had been sent to the Bascom Quarter Horse Stud to be bred to Laura’s stallion Buddha. The breeding would take place as soon as she came into estrus, which would be within six to twelve days of giving birth. That was why the mares did not give birth at home unless they were being artificially inseminated.
By the time Amber got out to the stable block, most of the lights had been dimmed to permit the horses to sleep. Mares generally gave birth in the dark. But human beings naturally needed lights in order to help. Dim lights had been set low on the walls so that they barely illuminated the lanes between the horse boxes.
Amber went into the tack room to hang up her parka. Lance was seated in the swivel chair at the desk, looking at the video screens. The cameras panned slowly over each doorway and each horse box. The horses were sleeping – some standing up and some lying down. Now that she knew about the security aspect, she could see that the cameras moved relentlessly over every area no matter how deep in shadow.
Lance looked up and smiled his crooked smile at her. He was wearing his eyepatch and his hair was a little mussed as if he had been lying down. But the narrow tack room cot was made up military fashion with tight hospital corners, and the coverlet lay taut over the pillow. Maybe he had forgotten to smooth his hair after he took off his watch cap.
She slipped off her parka and hung it in her locker. “What do we do now?”
“Sissy is fast asleep. I don’t know if it’s going to be tonight after all. There’s no point going over to her stall and disturbing her until she gets restless.” Lance waved an arm towards a stool. “Sit beside me and we’ll keep watch together.”
Amber pulled up the stool beside Lance’s chair. “I hadn’t realized how many cameras there were in the stable block.”
Lance nodded. “There are cameras on every horse box and on all the entrances – inside and out. And a couple scanning the training rings as well. Steve did a good job.”
Amber had been listening to the whispers and the gossip in the lunchroom for two months, so she knew that Laura’s husband was a hotshot executive in a big security company. Steve Holden had turned out to be one of Clive Bascom’s descendants – just like her own Grandma Shirley. For sure Laura’s great-grandpa had been a randy, careless son of a bear. Hard to believe he was originally from French Town.
Steve Holden liked to spend his weekends playing with the horses. Not that training them was a casual activity, but everyone had emphasized from the beginning that the horses were supposed to enjoy what they were being taught. And that worked best if the people teaching them enjoyed themselves too.
So far Amber had only been allowed to watch as the yearlings were taught to walk on a line with a bridle. In fact, except for mucking out and grooming, mostly what she did was observe. Well, it made sense. She had a lot to learn. She settled herself quietly beside Lance to do just that.
Lance indicated the smaller of two screens. “I’m going to put this camera right on Sissy. If she wakes up we, will go check on her. Sometimes they surprise you. And there are four other mares who could go into labor unexpectedly.”
Amber knew that there was always someone in the stable block keeping watch during the birthing season. The mares were simply too valuable to waste time getting dressed and coming over from the living quarters after trouble was spotted. The tack room was pleasant enough – and you could in theory watch from the bed. But Amber was grateful that Lance did not seem to want to lie down. He fiddled with his mouse and the array of tiles on the larger screen popped up four larger images that displayed sleeping mares.
“So what do we do if one of them does go into labor?” she asked.
“We go stand in the stall with her and watch. Usually a foal just slips out. We generally give the mother a hand cleaning up her baby and we like to disinfect them both – it prevents complications down the road. But at the first sign of trouble, tonight we’ll be calling Freddie.”
Amber already knew that Laura’s dad Dr. Freddie Bascom was a veterinarian. But obviously he could not keep watch every single night. There was a roster, and everyone took turns. So far Amber had not been scheduled for night watches. But that was because no one thought she was experienced enough. Which she hoped was about to change. She couldn’t help but be excited at the prospect of watching a foal being born.
“What do you mean disinfect them?” she asked. Surely foals were born sterile?
“You never know what germs are floating around an apparently clean stable. And even after the mom licks them clean, they need a wash. To be on the safe side, we wipe the mares off after they give birth. And once the mares have eaten the afterbirth and licked their foals, we dip the babies’ umbilicus in the disinfectant too. And then we clean out all the old straw, swab down the stall floor and replace the straw.” Lance chuckled. “It’s not a glamorous operation, Amber, but you’re going to love it.”
“I thought horses just dropped their foals without any real discomfort or hazard? After all, they evolved to give birth outside, and alone, in the dark.”
“And pretty much they do,” Lance assured her. “But every now and again the foal presents wrong. Or the mare has twins. Or she spends too much time in labor. That’s when we need an equine midwife. Carlos and Laura and I are pretty good at it, but Dr. Freddie is the expert. Don’t worry, I’ve been working here for seven years, and we’ve never lost a mare or a foal yet.”
“How did you happen to start working in the stable?” Amber asked.