I got up and went to gather more towels, returning to put them under the mare to absorb the blood.When I returned, the foal—as black as coal, but with a white star shape on his forehead—was trying to lift its head.
“I feel so helpless,” Danica whispered as the foal tried to stand.His legs were too weak and uncoordinated, and even with Danica’s help he couldn’t put any weight on his legs.
Laying down a towel next to Angel, we moved the colt there so he could perhaps suckle if she had any colostrum.He rooted a little, but struggled to keep his head up for very long.
“There’s nothing else to do,” I said solemnly.“We wait for fate now.”
“We what?”Sam asked, staring at me with wide eyes.“They could die.”
“The storm prevents the vet from coming.I am only one man.We are only three people with very little knowledge of horses.And no supplies.Trust me,piccola, I am sad too.”
Danica stood up and helped her daughter to her feet as well.“Come on, sweetheart, it’s getting late.We should head home.”
“But … what if they die?”Sam’s gaze swiveled between her mother and me.She focused on me, though, as if I had more sway than her own mother did.Her eyes took on a pleading look.
Danica wrapped a protective arm around her child, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.“You said so yourself; you can’t save all the animals.Sometimes you just have to let nature take its course.”
Sam shrugged out of her mother’s embrace, frustration on her face as she stepped back and shook her head, tears brimming in her green-hazel eyes.“I also said, but we couldtry.And we’re not trying anything.”Anger flashed across her features as she dropped her focus to the foal and Angel.Her chin trembled and she swallowed, unable to take her eyes off the foal.“It needs a name before it dies at least.It can’t die without a name.”
“It is a little boy.A colt,” I said, my throat tight as I spoke.“And you should name him.Please.”
Tears trickled down her cheeks.She swallowed hard as Danica went to her again and wrapped her up in a hug.This time, she didn’t step away; instead, she clung to her mother for support.“Midnight.Name him Midnight.”
I nodded.“It’s a strong name.Maybe he will pull through.”
She regarded her mother with a pleading look.“Why can’t we stay?”
I could tell Danica was torn about staying too.But there really wasn’t anything else they could do at this point.It was nature’s turn.
“What … what if you called one of the doctors here on the island?Justine or Grayson?Or the new nurse practitioner, Brynn?Maybe they have something that horses can take too.Like IV.They could talk on the phone with your vet to know the dosage to give them.”Danica shrugged.“It’s worth a shot.”
She was right.It was worth a shot.Nodding, I reached into my pocket for my phone, only to realize she still had it.
Smiling, she punched in a number and handed it back to me.“I have Justine’s personal number.”
“Grazie.”
“I, um … I need to get Sam home, but … um … I put my number in your phone and texted myself.So please message me with an update.”
Heat wormed its way into my cheeks at the thought of this woman putting her number into my phone.Was there more to it than just wanting an update on these horses?It’d been so long since I’d dated or even been interested in a woman that I wasn’t sure how things were done anymore.
I put the phone to my ear as it rang, then stopped.
“Hello?”came an unfamiliar voice.
Ohmerda!“Si.Hello.Justine?”
“We’re going to go,” Danica mouthed, ushering her frustrated child out of the barn.
I watched her go as I reiterated my dilemma to Justine, and she agreed to come take a look as well as give Morty a call.
After hanging up with Justine, I went back into the stall where little Midnight continued to root at his mother’s udder, searching for colostrum.
There wasn’t any to be had.
I had nothing to feed the little guy either.
Even if Justine and Morty could figure out a way to help the foal, without his mother’s milk, there was a very good chance I could lose both of them.
