Conall's Legacy (6 page)

Luisa knew she needed help. She had only one option. Jumping to her feet, she ran for the bunkhouse.

She beat her fist on Drake’s door, then bolted in without waiting for his response. He stood in the bedroom tucking his shirt into unzipped jeans. His hair was wet and his cheeks freshly shaven.

When he saw her, he jerked to a stop and quickly zipped up. “Sorry, you didn’t give me--” he said.

“I need help.” She gasped for breath. “My mare’s foaling.” He looked blank and raised one eyebrow.

“She’s having a baby and she’s in trouble.”

“I’ll call a vet. Where’s the number?” He turned away.

“There’s no time. I need you now, or she’s going to die.”

Luisa bolted out the door, letting the screen slam behind her.

#

“But Miss Scarlet, I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ no babies,” he said to the slamming door, his sardonic humor lost on the empty room. Dread replaced the fleeting thought. What next? he wondered. He pulled on his shoes, cursing and hopping on first one foot, then the other as the shoes clung to still damp, bare feet. Then he hurried to the barn.

Luisa was on her knees, stroking the mare’s glistening neck. She glanced up when he stepped into the stall. Bits of straw clung to her hair and clothes. Strands of dark hair flew around her face. Fear shadowed her eyes.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked.

“Reach inside her and find the foal’s other foot. It--”

“Excuse me?” Disgust slid through him. He’d stopped the flow of blood from gunshot wounds, pulled mangled bodies from crushed cars, but he’d never done anything like this.

“Reach inside, grab the foot and the nose, and straighten them out so she can deliver.”

“Why don’t I hold her head and you do it?”

“I tried. I’m not strong enough. Do it--now!”

He shook his head. Rick was definitely dead meat. Drake knelt behind the mare. Her hind foot caught him square on the thigh with a tremendous punch. He landed in the straw on his ass. “Hey!” Drake rubbed his pain-numbed leg.

“Quit fooling around and help her,” Luisa snapped.

Drake glared at her and moved away from the mare’s thrashing legs. “Can’t you keep her still?”

Luisa frowned at him. “In these circumstances, you wouldn’t keep still either.”

The mare’s sides heaved in another contraction, and a groan rumbled free from her lungs.

“Get on with it!”

“Easy girl,” Drake crooned. “Easy now.” He tenderly patted her hip, then forced his hands inside the straining mare. He met a slimy, wet wall that felt like fish guts. “That’s disgusting,” he grumbled, forcing down the swell of nausea that hit his gut. He struggled to find the twisted foot. “I’ve got it!”

“Great. Now push the baby away from the foot so you can pull it free. When she starts to deliver, you need to see two feet and a nose so she can finish.”

The silence grew, throbbed, broken only by Drake’s grunts as he tried to correct the foal’s position.

He swiped his shoulder across his damp forehead, then tried again. “Uh-oh,” he muttered.

“What?”

“I’ve got the foot straight but the head feels weird. I don’t think it has a nose.”

“Of course it does. Find it!”

Drake looked at Luisa and saw terror carved in her features. Sorrow dimmed her eyes, extinguishing the spark he had seen there. He knew that look, had seen it many times before. She thought her mare was going to die. Pain twisted in his gut like a knotted rope. He couldn’t let Luisa down.

“What do I do?” he asked.

“Follow along the head. Can you feel if it’s twisted back under the foal’s leg?”

He reached for the head again. Another contraction caught his wrists in a vise he feared would break them. He waited one heart beat, two, hoping it would pass so he could try again. Finally, he found the nose. “You’re right. It’s going the wrong way. She’s wedged in tight.”

He heard Luisa’s in-drawn breath, and watched her fight to maintain the control he’d seen the first day. She seemed unaware of the dust and straw particles hanging in the still air that bothered his throat, and the stringent odor of urine making his eyes water. She was lost somewhere far away.

“Luisa?”

“All right. Wait for the contraction to stop for a few seconds then pull as hard as you can. You’ve got to get its nose down.”

Luisa spoke to the mare in low tones, her voice sliding into the soft melody of an ancient Spanish lullaby.

Queenie relaxed for a moment, and Drake struggled with the foal’s long legs and head. “Come on, baby, cooperate, would you? Come on now, quit hanging on in there.”

At last Drake got the baby in line. He sat back on his heels and reached for a towel to wipe off.

“What now?” he asked.

“Get back and wait.”

The sentence barely out of her mouth, another contraction hit Queenie. The remaining fluid and bloody water gushed all over Drake’s legs.

“Oh, man.” He tried to scoot out of the way, but there was no time. A tiny chestnut nose with a white snip on it poked through the torn sac. Drake watched, mesmerized as the head and neck followed. The foal slipped from the mare and landed in his lap.

Forgetting his own condition, he lifted a hand, palm out to the tiny nostrils. The gentle in and out of air reassured him. “Look! It’s breathing.” His voice thickened. He looked at Luisa. “Are they going to be all right?”

Luisa nodded silently, unable to speak. A single tear slid down her cheek, leaving a dusty trail. She chewed on her lower lip fighting emotion. Drake realized these animals were her family. Her only family as far as he could see. No wonder she’d been so upset by the mare’s troubles. And yet, she’d stayed steady as a rock, done what had to be done to save the horse and baby. She is one cool-headed woman, he thought.

“Well? Is the horse going to be all right?” His voice shook, just once, but once was enough to tell him he’d lost his battle for distance.

Luisa nodded. “I think so, at least if the foal didn’t tear her.” She moved to his side and wrapped the baby in towels, rubbing it dry and getting the circulation going. Queenie rolled onto her belly and curled around to clean off the foal’s coat.

Drake watched Luisa give the baby a quick examination. The woman was a never-ending source of amazement. Pride warmed him and made him wonder about her history. She loved the animals, that much was clear. What made her stay on a ranch that no longer belonged to her? Surely, she wasn’t trapped here. An intelligent woman like her had to have options, didn’t she?

Her voice drew him back to the moment.

“It’s a filly, and she looks fine. Thank God for that.”

Drake frowned. “Your determination and knowledge and my strength got the job done, not some outside force.”

She shook her head. “Serendipity brought you here to the ranch at the right time. There are no coincidences, Drake. If I’d been here alone she would have died.” She lifted her gaze to his face. “So thank you. I would have lost them both if you hadn’t helped.”

It was just lucky I was here, he thought. If there were a true deity out there, he wouldn’t save animals and let men like Conall die because of lunatics with bombs. He shrugged, not wanting to follow that train of thought with Luisa.

“No problem. Can’t say I care to do this again any time soon, though.” He looked at the mare and the fragile baby. He thought of Rachael born less than six months after her father died. Life was indeed a fleeting thing.

Luisa stuck out her hand. “Well, anyway, thanks.”

Drake lifted his hands, palms out. “I’m a mess.” Bloody, wet clothes clung to him.

She chuckled, the sound low and intimate. He wondered what it would be like to feel that chuckle against his throat during a warm embrace. He forced his attention to her voice. That was a mistake. His gaze landed on her full lips. Drake’s heart began a heavy, rhythmic thumping as need ignited the blood coursing through his veins. What’s happening to me? he wondered. This whole thing was too personal, and too close for comfort. Things had to get back to normal between them. He was leaving as soon as possible. Knowing that didn’t allow for a flirtation that could lead to more. His heart wasn’t free to give to any woman, no matter how much he admired and wanted her.

Drake shook his head clear. “What did you say?” he asked.

“I was apologizing. When things like this happen, you don’t stop to think on a ranch. You do what needs done. And you did it.” She nodded at his soaked body. “I’ll take care of your clothes if you bring them over.”

“No need. I can handle it.”

“Right. Okay then.” A rosy flush kissed her cheeks.

Desire continued to race through Drake’s body. He fought the urge to pull her close. He dropped his hands to his sides before he made a move he’d regret. It wouldn’t be right to take advantage of her when she’d just had the daylights scared out of her.

His thoughts shifted and pain stabbed through him where desire had been moments before. Cops helped people, didn’t they? Conall always had. Person, animal, it didn’t matter to him. The Conman could never resist a creature in jeopardy. When it came right down to it, neither could Drake.

Helping, being of service, it was all part of what he did and who he was. It was a major part of what Drake had lost, at least for a time. His job. Something, he admitted to himself, he might not get back if Rick and the medical board didn’t believe he was fit for duty.

He looked into Luisa’s smiling face, swung his gaze to the baby curled against her mother in the deep straw. Now peace and happiness radiated in this place.

Would he return to his normal life? Would he ever again know such contentment? Somehow, Drake doubted it. Contentment for Luisa came from her life on the ranch and faith in an invisible force. For him, there was nothing but the here and now--and fate.

CHAPTER SIX

“You owe him, big time.” Cindy sounded smug. “After all, he did save Queenie and her foal.”

“Cindy ...” Luisa tucked the receiver between her ear and shoulder so she could pick up a dishtowel. “I don’t need or want a man in my life.” She dried her dinner plate and set it on the spotless, uncluttered counter.

“Everyone needs someone special in their lives,” Cindy argued.

Luisa dried her salad bowl and set it on the plate. “I’m perfectly happy with my animals. They don’t hassle me like some pushy people I know.” She smiled and reached for her fork.

“I want you to be happy and--”

“I am happy.” She set the fork beside her dishes. Her gaze settled on the lone place-setting and sorrow settled over her heart. Her gaze slid around the room. The refrigerator’s face was uncluttered. No sloppy children’s pictures hung there. No tacky magnets.

Cindy’s voice drew her back to the present. “What did you say?” Luisa asked.

“Darn it all. I asked if you want a family anytime in the near future--like before you go gray.” Exasperation fluttered in her friend’s voice.

Maybe I do
. Luisa fought to erase the picture that sprang up: Little, dark haired kids playing in the grass under the cottonwoods as she had done, or begging for rides on the Welsh pony she’d buy for them. Raising them to appreciate and respect nature the way she did and as her father had taught her.

Luisa turned her back on the solitary place setting and leaned against the counter.

“I told you, he only helped me because I didn’t give him a choice. We haven’t said three words to each other since the filly was born.”

“So--do the neighborly thing and bake him one of your great cakes.”

Luisa twisted the phone cord around her fingers and thought about Drake. “I’m not sure I should do that. He seems ... I don’t know ... to be hiding somehow.” Compassion rippled through her. “He’s keeping to himself as if he only wants to be alone right now.”

“What do you mean?”

Apparently Cindy’s psychiatrist antennae had gone up.

“He’s hiding from something. I think he’s really hurting.”

“So why is a man any different from the animals you take in and repair?”

Luisa frowned. Her friend knew which buttons to push. “Cheap shot, Cindy. I guess that comes from being a shrink.”

“I know.” Her unapologetic laugh carried over the wire. “Hey, before I forget. You need to be careful out there.”

“You know I am.” Luisa had heard this before.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But the ranch south of you experienced a home invasion a couple days ago.”

“Oh no! Were the Wilsons hurt?”

“Roughed up, but not bad. I saw them in the ER when I pulled duty the other night.”

“Thanks, Cindy. I’ll call them, but don’t worry here. Rooster gives me plenty of warning, and I still have a couple of Dad’s old shotguns around.”

“Just watch out. They think they may be drug runners or smugglers following the river.”

“Stop worrying, mom. Can I go now?”

Cindy laughed. “Okay, fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Now, start baking, girl. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

Luisa looked at the suddenly dead phone. “Fine,” she grumbled. “Just fine.” She hated it when Cindy was right. Courtesy dictated that she do something nice for Drake after all he’d done for her.