janet dailey- the healing touch

THE HEALING TOUCH Janet Dailey

Chapter One

I'm sorry to bother you at this time of night, Dr. Barclay. But we have an emergency here at Casa Col- ina." The male voice on the phone had a gentle Irish brogue, but not gentle enough to soften the blow. Rebecca Barclay groaned as the words sank into her half- asleep brain. No... no more emergencies tonight, please! Rolling over in bed, she peered at the clock on her nightstand. Three o'clock in the morning.

"What seems to be the problem, Mr. O'Brien?" she asked, hoping it would be something simple. Normally, Rebecca would have been pleased to hear from Neil O'Brien, one of her favorite people. He was quite proficient at animal husbandry himself, and Rebecca knew he would never call her unless he truly needed her services. She just didn't want to be needed... at least not for the rest of the night.

"I've got myself a fine little nanny goat here who's tryin' to deliver her first kid," the Irishman replied. "But surely, somethin's amiss. She's been at it for hours, and she's made no headway at all."

A birthing. A goat birthing. Rebecca groaned again. Something simple, huh? Wishful, but naive thinking on her part. It was some sort of cruel cosmic rule that no call was ever simple at three o'clock in the morning.

With an effort she forced a note of cheer into her voice. False, perhaps, but cheerful all the same. "I'd be glad to come out, Mr. O'Brien. I'll be there as quickly as I can."

There's no rest for the weary, Rebecca thought as she hung up the phone and heaved her aching body out of bed. She had only been asleep for an hour. One lousy hour since the last emergency.

At midnight she had been wakened by a frantic phone call—a distraught cat owner who lived across town and far out in the country. As she had tried to find her way in the darkness, Rebecca had decided that the area was so rural it could be considered a suburb of the boondocks.

Weighing in at almost thirty pounds, sleek and shiny black, the feline named Butch had more closely resembled a panther than a common house cat. Her next two hours had been spent reassembling the tomcat's mangled ears. Having lost a skirmish with an even bigger and meaner male, Butch had been in a foul mood. Rebecca's hands and arms still stung from his scratches, and her left thumb bore several holes where he had sunk bis cute little fangs into her flesh.

Unfortunately, Rebecca was the only veterinarian in the small town of San Carlos who was willing to do house calls. As a result, she could count on being hauled out of bed several times a week... at least.

Exactly why did I want to be a vet ? she asked herself as she pulled on her jeans and a plaid flannel shirt that she had only recently draped over a chair nearby. Wasn't

it something about helping animals... relieving suffering, healing the wounded?

Ugh! Altruistic reasons aside, right now she didn't want to see another furry face for at least a month.

Grabbing a favorite old woolen sweater and her case full of pharmaceuticals and surgical instruments, she hurried out to her ancient, battered pickup.

For a brief moment she allowed herself the luxury of pausing to breathe in the sweet smell of the California night. The delicate scent of the star jasmine planted beside her door blended with the heady perfume of the orange blossoms in a nearby grove.

The night air was silent and unusually cool for summer. Her breath frosted, white puffs in the moonlight, as she pulled the sweater more tightly around her and climbed into the truck.

Not a single headlight shone on the highway that ran in front of her house. The town of San Carlos was asleep... except for her and Neil O'Brien... and, of course, that poor little nanny who was struggling to deliver her first baby.

"I'll be right there, sweetie," Rebecca whispered as she pulled the old jalopy out of her driveway, grinding a gear or two in the process. "Just hang on. Help is on the way."

Ten minutes later, Rebecca arrived at Casa Colina, a lavish estate on the northern edge of town. The enormous house gleamed blue-white in the moonlight, an

old-fashioned Spanish hacienda with a red-tiled roof and graceful arches covered with climbing roses.

Rebecca knew the place well. As a child, she had spent many happy hours playing on the estate, exploring the nooks and crannies of the old house, the gardens, bams and orchards. The Flores family had five daughters and she had been friends with them all.

But over the years, the girls had grown up, gone to college, established careers and gotten married. Finally, even the youngest, Gabriella, had left home. Last winter, feeling lost and alone on such a large property, Jose and Rosa Flores had sold Casa Colina and moved to an apartment in town.

Rebecca had been told that the new owners were private people, but she had heard little else about them. Even the standard town gossips seemed in the dark and hungry for tidbits of information about their reclusive neighbors.

She had been pleased to hear that they had chosen to keep Neil O'Brien as their caretaker, and his wife, Bridget, as their housekeeper. After working for the Flores family for twenty years, Neil and Bridget knew more about running Casa Colina than anyone. Rebecca felt a great deal of affection for the couple and enjoyed their company. She admired Neil's skill and compassion with the animals in his care, and he always seemed to have a big smile and a corny joke for everyone he met. Bridget was equally friendly, graciously offering a cup of Irish breakfast tea and queen cakes, as

she called her special cupcakes, to visitors at Casa Col- ma.

Having paid many social calls to the property, Rebecca was intimately familiar with its layout. She didn't bother to go to the house first; Neil would be in the barn with the goat and Bridget would probably be sleeping. So she drove around the front of the house and toward a series of outbuildings in the back.

With her bag in hand, she climbed out of the truck and headed for the stables, where a light shone from one dusty-paned window, throwing a golden glow across the lawns. She rushed inside, hoping she wasn't too late.

O'Brien was kneeling beside a small white nanny goat, who lay on her side in a pile of straw. She was a Nubian, Rebecca's favorite breed of goat, known for its friendly, playful disposition and long, floppy ears. The animal was panting hard, straining with the contractions. But, in spite of her efforts, there was no sign of a new arrival.

With her attention focused on her patient, Rebecca didn't notice the little girl who sat huddled in the corner of a stall. She was hugging her knees, which were drawn up to her chest, her big blue eyes filled with tears.

"How long has she been in hard labor?" Rebecca asked. Kneeling beside the goat, she ran her hand over its bloated belly. She could feel the animal shivering with fear and fatigue; the goat couldn't take much more. But Rebecca felt something else, which gave her hope—the movement of the kid
inside. There was still
a chance of a posit
ive outcome for both mother and
baby.

"She's been at it since yesterday morning," Neil replied, pulling a red kerchief from the pocket of his coveralls. He wiped his brow, which was wet with sweat, despite the coolness of the night. "As you can see for yourself, nothing's happened. I'm thinkin' that some- thin' must be tangled up in there."

Rebecca opened her bag and pulled out a tube of antiseptic, lubricating cream. "I believe you're right."

"Since I called you, she's been goin' downhill fast," Neil said, his ruddy, freckled face registering his concern. He looked exhausted, and for the first time, the thought occurred to Rebecca that Neil O'Brien was growing older. When had those lines appeared on his face? When had he lost his youthful vigor? He brushed back a lock of his curly red hair from his forehead—red that was mixed with more silver than Rebecca remembered. "Hilda's a nice little goat," he added, stroking the Nubian's long silky ears. "I'd hate to lose her."

Rebecca heard a sob from the far corner of the barn. Turning around, she peered into the shadows and saw the girl for the first time.

"Hilda's going to die...isn't she, Doctor?" the child asked, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I knew something awful was going to happen. And I was right, it is."

Rebecca walked over to the girl and dropped to one knee beside her in the pile of straw. "My name is Rebecca," she told her. "What's yours?"

"Katie," she said with a sniff.

"Well, Katie, I don't think you need to worry so much about Hilda," Rebecca said, reaching out and gently touching one of the girl's shining black curls, which lay on her shoulder. "I run into this sort of problem all the time. It usually works out just fine."

"Really?" The girl choked back her sobs. "You do it all the time?"

"Ten times yesterday," Rebecca replied with a teasing smile.

The child laughed through her tears. "I don't think it happens that much," she said.

"I think you're right. But I think Hilda's going to be fine. You'll see."

Having comforted the child, Rebecca returned to Neil and the goat. She rolled up her sleeves and smeared the antiseptic cream from her fingertips to her elbows. Then she pulled on a pair of long, surgical gloves.

"I'll check and see what's going on in there," she said. "We need to know what we're dealing with."

As Rebecca examined her patient, the animal lay still, too weak to resist. After only a couple of minutes, she had her answer.

"Well, we have twins," she said. "And the first one is a big fellow. He's the one who's holding up the works."

"What are you going to do?" Neil asked.

"I'm going to turn him a bit to get him in the proper position. Then I can ease him out."

As gently as she could, Rebecca performed her task. Hilda seemed to sense that som
ething had changed and,
encouraged, she began to bear down again and push with a vengeance.

In only a few minutes, Rebecca delivered the first kid. As she had predicted, he was huge with an especially large head. But he didn't seem any the worse for having gone through his ordeal. He snorted his disapproval as Rebecca aspirated his nose and mouth and wiped his face with a towel.

Grabbing a handful of straw, Neil began to give the youngster a brisk rubdown. Hilda bleated and craned her neck around to get a better look at her newly arrived offspring.

From the corner of her eye, Rebecca watched as Katie slowly left her spot by the wall and inched toward them.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" the child asked. Her tears had evaporated, but her blue eyes were still big and round with wonder.

"It's a billy," Rebecca said. "A fine, strapping fellow. I certainly won't want to fool around with him in another year or so."

Katie looked disappointed. "Oh... I was hoping for a girl."

Neil laughed as he pushed the kid toward his mother's face. She sniffed him curiously, then began to give him his first tongue bath. "Poor Katie," he said, "I promised her she could have one of the kids for a pet if it was a nanny."

"Well, there's one more left in there," Rebecca said. "And we'll know soon whether it's your nanny or this billy's brother."

Katie lost her shyness as she scrambled to Rebecca's side and knelt on the straw. Reaching out her small hand, she stroked the goat's belly. "You're okay, Hilda," she said in a soft, soothing voice. "The nice doctor is going to take care of you.''

"Yes," said a deep voice from behind them, "it looks like everything is under control."

Rebecca glanced over her shoulder and caught her breath. The man who stood in the doorway was the most knock-down-dead gorgeous guy she had ever seen. With his shining black hair and blue eyes, it was obvious that he was Katie's father. He almost filled the doorway with his broad shoulders, and the room seemed to vibrate with his presence.

But Rebecca didn't have time to think about a handsome man at the moment. As attractive as he was, she had work to do. With its oversize brother no longer an obstruction, the second kid was on its way into the world.

She felt a pang of concern when she saw the baby. It was much smaller than the first, and it seemed limp and lifeless as she eased it out and onto the straw.

Quickly she cleared its nose and mouth, then began to rub its body with the towel. Neil understood the urgency and did the same to its legs.

"Come on, little one," she whispered. "Let's get you going. Breathe for me... come on..."

She noticed that it was a female and her heart sank. Katie would be crushed if she didn't live.

Just when Rebecca was about to give her CPR, the tiny animal shuddered. She gasped for air, and kicked her hind legs.

"There she goes," Neil said, his fa
c
e splitting with a wide grin. "You did it, Doc!" Jumping to his feet, he grabbed Katie, lifted her and gave her a bear hug.

"And it's a girl!" Katie said when he set her back on her feet. "It's a little nanny... for me!"

"Tha
t'
s right, Katie," Neil said. "A bonny nanny for a bonny lassie."