Chapter Eleven

JORDAN SPENT the next few days in a fog. He and Russ had apparently formed some sort of truce. Russ stopped being quite so much of a dick, and Jordan stopped his campaign to get in Russ’s pants. The problem was, all that tension with Russ had been a good distraction, even if it did little for his fragile ego. He still seemed to make Russ uncomfortable, though, probably because Russ appeared to be about as good at dealing with his own emotions as anyone in Jordan’s family. Added to that, Phyllis had really taken to the mother hen role Russ had talked about—one she played with far more gushing tenderness than Jordan’s reserved mother would have ever shown. So Jordan felt like a ping pong ball, bouncing between the unyielding blank granite wall he was used to and a mountain of marshmallow.

Russ was right, of course. Jordan couldn’t avoid dealing with things forever, but was it so wrong to want just a little more time? If Phyllis asked him how he was doing again, he might just have a meltdown, right there, out in the open, and that was next door to an unpardonable offense in the Thorndike family.

Kinda like being gay, apparently.

The only time he felt any peace at all was at night, after supper, when everyone else was either gone or in bed, and he could sit with Marina at the back of the barn. Of all the horses on the ranch, she drew him the strongest, probably because she was in the worst shape.

“We make a pair, don’t we, girl?” he murmured as he held out a bit of apple for her.

The last few nights, he’d spent hours just sitting and talking nonsense to her. He’d even taken to singing snatches of whatever songs he could remember, though he’d felt a little silly. It seemed to work, though, because she’d finally rewarded him by coming close enough to her stall door to let him rub her neck and shoulder a couple of times.

“I’m probably still just using you as another excuse to avoid what I should be doing, but you don’t mind. And at least I’m doing something good while I’m procrastinating.”

He held the slice of apple out, but she made no move to come closer to the door.

“Come on, girl. It’s all right. You know me.”

She shifted restlessly and swished her tail in agitation.

“What’s the matter, girl? Want to be left alone tonight?”

She hadn’t been this nervous with him since the first time he saw her. She paced the confines of the stall and let out a cross between a squeal and a grunt. The other horses farther up the aisle poked their heads out of their stalls and made nervous inquisitive noises of their own.

Concerned that she was acting a little strangely, he walked quickly back up the aisle and turned on the overhead lights. Blinking in the sudden glare, he trotted back to her stall.

“Nothing to worry about. Just want to get a better look at you.”

He wasn’t sure if the words were for him or her, but as he noticed her sweaty sides and the slight tremble in her legs, his anxiety grew.

“I’m going to go get Russ now. It’s probably nothing, but I’d rather piss him off and be wrong than….”

Deciding he really didn’t want to finish that sentence, he trotted back up the aisle and broke into a jog the rest of the way to the house.

“Russ?” He knocked lightly on the man’s bedroom door. “Russ?”

“Yeah?” came the grumpy reply.

“Hey, it’s probably nothing, but—”

Russ opened the door, fully dressed with his boots already on. Behind him, Jordan spotted a laptop open on the bed with what looked like a live feed from the barn on the screen in black-and-white.

“I saw the lights in the barn come on,” he replied gruffly at Jordan’s raised eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. It’s Marina. She’s sweating and upset. She wouldn’t take the treat I offered, and she loves apples.”

Russ pushed past him and headed down the stairs while Jordan followed close on his heels.

“Shit!” Russ exclaimed after peering into the stall.

“What?”

“See that discharge?” he asked, pointing toward her hindquarters. A disgusting-looking fluid ran down her back legs, partially obscured by her tail as she shifted and paced nervously. “It’s either infection or labor, neither of which is good, since she’s nowhere near time. Her udder is filling too, dammit.”

Jordan’s stomach twisted, and a ball of fear formed in his chest. “What do we do?”

“Stay here and try to keep her calm. I’ll go call Dr. Watney.”

Left alone again, Jordan moved closer and tried to coax her to him again. “It’s okay, Marina. We’re going to take good care of you.”

He kept up a steady stream of gentle gibberish, and it seemed to help. She stopped pacing and moved to get some water from the bucket not far from where Jordan stood. By the time Russ came back, she’d even let him pat her neck once. She moved away when Russ stepped close, but not as far as before.

“Dr. Watney’s on her way. Her house is about thirty minutes from here, so we have a little time to get her haltered and calmed enough to let the vet close.”

“She doesn’t really like much handling,” Jordan said skeptically.

“I know,” Russ said gently, without the harshness the obvious remark deserved.

Russ worked with her every day. He knew Marina better than anyone. Jordan just wasn’t thinking very clearly at the moment.

When Russ brought the halter, it took both of them nearly the entire thirty minutes to coax her into it and get her settled. A car pulled up outside just as Jordan had gotten Marina to nibble on a bit of apple in his palm, and Russ walked out to meet the vet.

Dr. Watney was a short, slight woman with tightly braided black hair and smooth coffee-colored skin that made it hard to judge her age.

“Tish, this is Jordan, a new recruit. Marina’s taken a real shine to him, so hopefully together we can keep her calm enough for you to do your job. Jordan, this is Dr. Latisha Watney, our savior on numerous occasions.”

“I’d shake hands, but my hands are a little full right now.”

Jordan held the halter lead loosely while he gently stroked Marina’s neck with his other hand.

“That’s okay, Jordan,” Dr. Watney replied with a smile. “You just keep doing what you’re doing. I’ve checked Marina out a couple of times since she’s been here, and you guys seem to have worked a miracle yet again. She’s much calmer than the last time, and I’m glad to see the weight she’s put on.”

Marina jerked her head slightly and snorted when the other two entered the stall, but Jordan kept murmuring to her until she settled a bit. She still seemed tense, and he was about to mention it, when Dr. Watney said, “I think it’s safe to get Dallas. So far, she doesn’t sound like it’s any kind of respiratory infection.”

Jordan threw a confused look at Russ.

“Having another good-tempered and well-trained horse nearby can sometimes calm the skittish,” Russ explained as he exited the stall. “She seemed to like Dallas when we did this before.”

Russ put Dallas in the stall next to Marina’s so the mare could see and touch muzzles with the old gelding. It seemed to help, as a little more tension left her body. Jordan was prepared for Russ to take over and kick him out of the stall, but Russ merely settled outside, leaving Jordan and Dr. Watney with Marina.

While the vet worked her way slowly to the mare’s hind end, Jordan tried not to think about anything other than comforting Marina. He became so focused on connecting with her and keeping her calm and happy, he didn’t even notice when Dr. Watney finished her examination and stepped out of the stall.

It wasn’t until he felt a broad hand on his shoulder that Jordan lifted his head and blinked away the fog. Russ studied Jordan’s face with deep brown eyes, but his expression was unreadable.

“It’s okay, Jordan. She’s done with the examination.” Russ’s voice was softer and gentler than Jordan had ever heard it, which kind spooked him more than if Russ had snapped at him.

“Does she know what’s wrong?”

“It’s an infection,” Russ replied somberly. “She’s not sure what kind yet. She’s taking samples back to her office tonight for the tests. Once she knows, she’ll be back with medicine.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Jordan asked hopefully. Except Russ looked anything but relieved.

Shaking his head, Russ said, “The infection has probably spread to the placenta. That’s why we’re seeing swelling in her udder. Signs like that usually mean the mare will abort the foal before it reaches full term.”

Jordan’s stomach twisted, and the fear he’d managed to banish while calming Marina returned as he stepped away from her and into the aisle with the others. “Isn’t there something we can do?”

“We wait,” Russ replied. “She’s too thin to be pregnant anyway. It’s probably better for her if she loses it now. Then she can concentrate on healing herself first without the added strain.”

Jordan understood the logic. It just didn’t make him feel much better. Marina was sick and might lose her baby. That was all his heart cared about.

Dr. Watney returned, drying her hands after washing them in the sink at the front of the barn. “I’ll take the samples in now, and I’ll call as soon as I have results on whether it’s fungal or bacterial and we can decide on treatment. I recommend keeping a close eye on her. I have a bad feeling it won’t be long before we know if the foal was affected. If she starts labor, give me a call and I’ll come back. She just hasn’t had enough time to get healthy for this yet, so she may need some help.”

“I’ll watch her,” Jordan offered before Russ could say anything.

Russ flashed him one of his small smiles, which up until that point had seemed to be reserved for everyone else on the ranch but Jordan, before turning back to the vet. “I’ll walk you out.”

Over his shoulder, Russ said, “I’ll bring you some coffee and your tablet, if you want it.”

Jordan nodded, and they disappeared through the doors.

Once they were gone, he moved to Marina’s stall door again and said, “It’s just you and me tonight, girl. I’m going to keep an eye on you, and we’re going to do everything we can for you.”

Fifteen minutes later, Russ returned with a thermos full of coffee, a basket with some of Phyllis’s muffins, a bowl of sugar, and a carton of half-and-half. He had a blanket draped over one shoulder and Jordan’s tablet tucked under his arm.

“I’d stay out here too,” Russ said apologetically, “but someone’s got to see to everyone else tomorrow. Plus, tomorrow’s Friday, so the weekenders will be here before we know it. I think we got another Girl Scout troop coming our way on Saturday.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t take two people to watch her. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

“Yeah, all right.” Russ turned to go but hesitated. “Eat those muffins. Don’t want you keeling over on us too.”

Jordan forced a smile and nodded. The last thing he wanted right now was to think about food. “Good night.”